farmer

There was a loud cry in the deepest depths of darkness,

For the sake of your most precious land, I am willing to shed my last drop of blood!

Now that the revolution has triumphed, never forget. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

(a)

Memories depart along the mottled Qianmo, sowing the seeds of grains in the chronology,

A pair of big rough hands held up the sky and the earth.

The wind swirling in the dark is sweeping through the spring, summer, autumn and winter,

Sprinkle the rain and snow on the ridges,

Life, soul, clinging to each other,

Shoulder to shoulder, shouting the trumpet of majestic mountains and rivers,

Let the barren land become rich,

Now forced by life to go away,

How many times have I woken up from a dream and stood concentrating on the land of my hometown.

(b)

Remove the weeds, just for the golden harvest,

In the rice fields, the feet wrapped in mud become a kind of scenery.

The scorching sun tanned the skin,

Looking at the wrinkled face is a hardworking and simple image,

Smiling old parents, looking affectionately at every inch of land under their feet,

It's like an oil painting hanging in my heart.

Layers of terraces, like ladders to the sky,

Under the blue sky, wielding a scythe, sweating like rain,

In the blood flows the ordinary greatness,

It all starts with that sincere heart.

(c)

The Chinese have an eternal concern for the land,

On the land that our ancestors have cultivated for generations,

Grandfather died here,

Father died here,

The resolute personality is passed down in the blood,

It has never changed!

endure the sun and rain,

Not for a false name,

Not for gold and jewels,

I choose to pay silently for a lifetime,

Just because I love the land under my feet.

(iv)

Say goodbye to the land of your homeland,

Farewell to wife and children,

Farewell to my old father,

Farewell my dearest mother.

The travel bag is full of nostalgia,

Parting instructions word by word,

haunting in the ears,

Watch everything go away in the crowded carriages of the train......

In the shed where the cold wind swirls,

A bowl of instant noodles is all there is to it,

Tired and sleeping in the shed,

Break into the child's innocent dreams.