I'm here in the canyon.
The valley over there is full of warm spring flowers.
The spring flowers are all over my valley.
White clouds in the blue sky floated from your peak to mine.
White clouds in the blue sky floated from my mountain top to your mountain top.
We are all children of Dashan.
Dashan is our mother.
Mother raised the children in Dashan with her broadest mind.
Children in Dashan have been snuggling in their mothers' arms for generations.
When my mother survived, it was a generation ago.
Now we meet in a strange city.
The Beatles's crowded urban roads.
Urban forest cast with cement and steel bars
Cold reprimand, dirty air, smiling fraud.
At first we were at a loss.
How can people do this?
We are all children of Dashan.
In the dark corner of this growing city
Curled up in the bed of migrant workers
Bright lights and noisy city nights.
A beautiful shadow of my mother appeared in my dream.
We are all children of Dashan.
The mother in the dream didn't mean to blame us.
She still tells us with her broad mind.
I just hope we can live a good life, no matter where we are.
Dashan, our mother.
Wandering outside, we want to return to your arms.
Take a breath of fresh air.
Listen to the kind, friendly and simple local accent.
Look at your five colorful spring flowers.
Look at your cool summer dress again.
Take another look at your figure in red leaves and autumn.
Look at your winter clothes again.
Dashan, my mother
20 17-05-05