Author: Shu Ting
I am your shabby old waterwheel by the river, spinning tired songs for hundreds of years; I am a miner's lamp with your forehead blackened. When you grope in the tunnel of history, I am a withered ear of rice and a disrepair roadbed. It is the barge on the muddy beach that pulls the rope deep into your shoulder,-motherland!
I'm poor and I'm sad. I am the painful hope of your forefathers, the flower that will never land between the sleeves of "flying"-the motherland!
I am your brand-new ideal, just breaking away from the spider web of myth; I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow; I am your laughing vortex with tears hanging; I am the newly painted white starting line; What is breaking out is the crimson dawn; -the motherland!
I am one billionth of you, the sum of your 9.6 million square meters; You fed me with scarred breasts, confused me, considerate me and boiled me; Then get your wealth, your glory and your freedom from my flesh and blood; -Motherland, my dear motherland!
2. Motherland
Author: lermontov
I love my motherland, but with strange love! Even my reason can't win. No matter the glory of blood, no matter the peace full of pride and piety, no matter the sacred rumors in ancient times, it can't arouse my dream of comfort.
But I love-I don't know why-its desolate and indifferent silence on the grassland, its endless forest swaying with the wind, its rushing river like the sea; I love driving up the path between villages, looking at the boundless night with slow eyes, missing my home at night and meeting the trembling lights in abandoned villages on the roadside;
I love the light smoke from wildfires, the big chariots and horses that spend the night on the grassland, and the two shining birch trees on the hills in Huangtian.
With unknown happiness, I looked at the threshing floor full of grain, the farmhouse paved with straw, and the small window inlaid with embossed shutters; On a holiday night with dew, I can see more deeply at midnight when I watch the dance of the whistle in The Drunk Farmer's Joke.
3. "One sentence"
Author: Wen Yiduo
There is a curse, and there is a word that can be ignited.
Although it hasn't been said for five thousand years, can you guess the silence of the volcano?
Maybe he was possessed suddenly, and there was a thunderbolt in the sky.
Boom: "Our China!"
What should I say today? You don't believe that Cycas blooms,
Then there is a sentence: when the volcano can't help but be silent;
Don't tremble, stick out your tongue and stamp your feet until the blue sky thunders.
Boom: "Our China!"
4. I love this land
Author: Ai Qing
If I were a bird,
I should also sing with a hoarse throat:
This land hit by the storm,
This river of sadness and anger will surge forever,
This endless wind,
And the gentle dawn from the forest ...
And then I died,
Even feathers rot in the ground.
Why do I often cry?
Because I love this land deeply. ...
5. Song of the Seven Sons
Author: Wen Yiduo
The mother of seven is on pins and needles. Seven sons feel sorry for themselves, hoping to return to their mother's heart. The poet wrote "Kai Feng" to praise it. Since the Treaty of Nebuchadnezzar Chu, China has lost its land, lost the support of the motherland and been abused by other ethnic groups. It assumes that its sorrow is more than seven sons in Kaifeng, so it chooses seven places that have the closest relationship with China and writes a chapter for each song.
To express his loneliness and death, to be pregnant with the sorrow of the motherland at an early date, and to inspire the people of China to struggle. The collapse of national borders is a long-term accumulation, and Chinese people regard it as indifference. Alsace without alsace-lorraine? "If you are sincere, the stone can be opened." In fact, the return of China's "seven sons" is in jeopardy!
Song of the Seven Sons of Macau
Do you know that Ma Gang is not my real name?
I've been away from your children for too long, mom!
But what they took was my body,
You still have my soul.
The biological mother who dreamed for 300 years!
Please call the baby by his first name.
Call me "Macau"!
Mom! I want to come back, mom!
Song of the Seven Sons Hong Kong
I'm like Huang Bao who keeps vigil in front of the Phoenix Tower.
Mother, although my position is very small, my situation is very dangerous.
Now the terrible sea lion pounced on me,
Spit my flesh and swallow my ointment;
Mom, I cried and howled, but I shouldn't have called you.
Mom, let me hide in your arms!
Mom! I want to come back, mom!
Song of the Seven Sons: Taiwan Province Province
We are a string of pearls in the East China Sea.
Ryukyu is my younger brother, and I am from Taiwan Province Province.
I still have Zheng's heroic spirit in my chest.
Loyal blood dyed my heirloom red.
Mom, the hot summer is killing me,
Give me an order, and I can still hold on.
Mom! I want to come back, mom!
The Song of Seven Sons Ahava
Let me protect the oldest sea in China again,
The original sacred mountain on the shore here is.
Mom, don't forget that I am an expert in preventing the sea.
I have a Liu Gongdao as my shield.
Come back, it's time.
The remains of saints are buried behind me!
Mom! I want to come back, mom!