First-grade poetry recitation for 3 minutes

Variations on the Stars If every corner of the earth is full of light, who needs stars, who will stare at the night for distant comfort, who won't think that every day is a poem, every word is a star trembling in his heart like a bee, who won't, and there is a night as soft as a lake, where fireflies and stars swim among water lilies, who doesn't like spring. Birds fall all over the branches like stars, and the twinkling sound of the sky comes from a distance. The clouds of white lilacs are hazy. If every corner of the earth is full of light, who needs stars, who will burn loneliness in the cold and look for stars and hope? Who wants to write poems about suffering year after year? Every capital is a group of stars trembling like ice and snow. Look at that night, frozen as stiff as a piece of land, and the wind blew off one thin star after another. Who doesn't like flying flags, like golden stars that spit out fire. When the stars in the sky are tired, they get up and light up the motherland where the sun cannot shine. My dear motherland (Shu Ting), I am the worn-out old waterwheel on your river, spinning tired songs for hundreds of years. I am the miner's lamp on your forehead, and I am the withered ear of rice that you grope for in the historical tunnel. Is it the dilapidated roadbed or the barge on the muddy beach that pulls the rope deeply into your shoulder-the motherland! I am poor, I am sad, I am the painful hope of your ancestors, the flower that has not landed for thousands of years-the motherland, I am your brand-new ideal, I just broke free from the spider web of myth, I am the germ of your ancient lotus under the snow, I am your tearful smile nest, I am the newly painted white starting line, and the crimson dawn is spreading-the motherland, I am one billionth of you and the sum of your 9.6 million square meters. Nurture the lost me, the considerate me and the boiling me with the scarred * * *, and then get your richness, your glory and your freedom from my flesh and blood-the motherland, my dear motherland.