The moon has become a sickle for mowing grass.
Hanging in the night sky
The long hair of the stars caressed the rivers and mountains.
Whose hand is on my chest?
Beating the river and waves
Whose hand lit my eyes?
A never-ending bonfire at night
I listened attentively to the sound of a horseshoe watch.
Beating my fragile heart again and again.
No one will forget.
It penetrated the thick upper strata and historical days.
1, 29 Movement
Whether it's red wind or blood rain.
The voice of young people's blood boiling
incision
In the patriotic student movement of the descendants of the Chinese people
The most touching chapter
The song extends from the horizon of China.
People are chanting
The times are listening
Farewell
If I shed tears and breathe fragrant.
Fix the true feelings at the peak of the high-pitched world
Step by step towards the forerunner
See green everywhere.
Countless delicate little hands
Hold high the torch of happiness.
Full of sparks
Gradually condensed into a warm heart.
I saw his clear eyes.
A string of tears slipped.
He said the world belongs to you and me.
Wind, how to lift me up tonight?
Let me set foot on the moon and dance.
..... The eagle wings of the tree Hengtai are drifting away.
The most beautiful bluebird.
Has flown away from human childhood.
But my road has never left my yellow home.
Please give me something new and staring eyes.
Please give me listening ears and keen thinking.
Rebuild my weak chest
Oh, I'm flapping my wings.
think
Until it dissolves into a glume.
Shining on the blue planet
photic
star