The rising sun in the morning,
A round sun crossed the beautiful scenery line of Bihaiwan School, that is-
The rising sun.
The rising sun shines on parents' happy faces.
The rising sun shone on the teacher's gratified face.
We are the flowers of our motherland,
We are the future of our motherland,
We are the rising sun.
We are the hope of our motherland,
Is the hope of parents and teachers,
Just as the sun is the hope of the earth.
The sky is blue to us,
The sun rises for us,
The sea is surging for us,
Flowers bloom for us.
Everything, everything,
Just because we are the rising sun.
We will grow up happily in the blue sea. ...
I send you a seed, I send you a seed,
Did you get it?
Please plant it in the soil,
If you have any hope, please let me know.
Oh, I heard that. You're saying:
"I hope to have a green world."
Look, my seeds germinate at once,
It grew a lush forest.
Every tree in the forest sticks out its branches,
Build a green palace for you,
You can breathe freely,
Even the air here is painted green.
Oh, I heard that. You're saying:
"I hope to have a pink dream."
Look, my seeds germinate at once,
It grows a pink garden.
Every petal in the garden exudes fragrance.
Build you a pink bed,
You lie down and sleep, sleep,
Dreams must be as warm as flowers.
Oh, I heard that. You're saying:
"I want to listen to a blues music."
Look, my seeds germinate at once,
It grows a blue ocean.
Every wave on the sea becomes a string,
Playing blue polka for you,
Enjoy yourself,
Paper money is blue and fluorescent.
Oh, I heard that too. You're saying:
"I don't want anything, I don't want it."
Look, my seeds have sprouted, too.
However, it was getting dark.
There is no color in the dark,
There was no sound in the darkness.
"This is unacceptable, absolutely unacceptable!"
This is the advice from the seed.
I sent you a seed,
Do you know who it is?
Please call my name,
It's me!
We hit the road, showing only the tender buds.
Just dyed a light pink,
I just found a very small stamp.
Stick on that big envelope.
Just out of that forest,
Holding a colorful flag, shaking down a peg or two.
Oh, no matter what the adults say,
Anyway, we are on the road, step by step.
Our footprints may be curved,
Our knees may be swollen by stones.
Maybe a sudden storm will throw us to the bottom of the cliff,
Maybe there will be illusory scenery that will confuse our eyes.
All the beautiful and cruel stories
It may happen, it may happen,
Maybe tonight,
Maybe tomorrow morning.
If we go back because of this,
Retreat into the warm arms of parents,
Then what can we be?
You might as well squat down and be a bear,
A bear for people to watch.
Oh, since we are destined to take two steps,
Now that it's doomed, we can only move on.
Even if it is only a few inches, or even less,
As long as we are marching, we won't blush.
There is no retreat, and the station of life does not sell return tickets.
There is no retreat, and the mountain stream will not flow back.
Go down, love birds and Golden Peacock are in front.
Go down, there are olive trees and mandolin in front.
Wind, rain, lightning,
The road we tread with our feet,
Is the real name of each of us in this world.
The above is my second grade reading draft. Thank you for reading.