Shu Ting I am the shabby old water wagon on your river side Will hundreds years spinning tired out song I am you black miner's lamp is fumed on the forehead Fumble all right according to the cochlea in your Sui hole in the history I am the roadbed that; of shrivelled spike of rice is disrepair It is the barge on silt beach Strap towline deeply into your humeral arm -- the motherland! I am impoverished I am sad I am your for generations Painful hope Be " flying Apsaras " between sleeve Will did not fall to the flower of the ground 100000 -- the motherland I am the ideal of your brand new Just flounced off from mythological cobweb I am your snow the embryo of Gu Lian be issueinged I am the dimple that you are hanging tear I am to brush the snow-white mark that give newly It is the dawn of bright red Gushing -- the motherland I am your billion 1/0 It is your summation of 9.6 million square Your breast with bruise again and again Feed I perplexed, I thoughtful, I boiling That goes up with respect to the human body from my flesh and blood Go obtaining Your abundant, your halo, your freedom -- the motherland My dear motherland |
Orignal From: The motherland, my dear motherland
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