My dear mother, the melody of the Yellow River, the Yangtze River and the song for you is playing. The action of the celebration held high the giant's arm and set up the image of the national forest of the world. Golden rice and wheat weave your gorgeous clothes and lead us all the way through the storm. The sunshine smiles at you affectionately, the ice and snow melt, the spring tide surges, and the songs dance with the pigeon whistle, boiling the children's hearts. It opens the long scroll of memory and walks into the distance of time. In the deep picture of history, the pride and glory of the nation have been strong and brilliant, but also humiliated and declined. It is the belief that steel is intertwined. Heavy suffering and anxiety have left many scars in our hearts and bred the blood of the eastern dawn. No matter how difficult and distant the journey is, we believe that the future is not a dream, and the land of China will surely bloom with the flowers of victory. When the October sunshine illuminates China, the solemn declaration will spread all over the five continents. You inspired us to March all the way to sing and watch Dajiangdong go to Langtaoshachun. The story of Heaven records a new era, and the development of western Gobi is in full swing. On the road of reform and opening up, you are strutting high and high-spirited. We describe the grand plan of the new century, listen to your sonorous pace, which is the melody of strength and beauty, and see your majestic rise. That is the totem of China's revival. Go ahead, take off, my motherland, my mother.