Facing the loess, with the blue sky on his back.

Under the scorching sun, a plow and a sickle,

Plough the land, harvest the land.

Sweating profusely, reflected in the spicy sun,

It's like hanging a rainbow, it's so hard and happy.

This was my torment at that time,

But now it's a miss.

This is my family's land, not my land.

I can dig pits, fish and barren,

Anyway, this is my family's land,

I—I can do whatever I want, whatever I want.

Once upon a time the ground was full of hope,

Harvesting it is a trivial matter for my family to cry with excitement.

But this was the most nervous thing for me at that time.

Because I don't like to be busy,

I hate the swarthy long boundless land even more.

It's just that I got to know it then,

It's so cute that it's a little scary.

Hip-hopping, mischievous,

This is their martial arts.

But it's the story I'm looking forward to the most.

There wasn't much that changed then.

Times change, everything changes,

I'm an adult, and my parents are old.

The crickets, the grasshoppers, and the ants,

And these twelve years,

All of them disappeared and drifted away with the wind.

It's like a dream, but it's not a dream.

The past time is buried in the soil,

This is my land, my story.

What was once desolate, now desolate,

All in my land,

And I have always regarded it as my family's land.

"I Am the Emperor of Freedom" [Quartet Chronicles] 18: "This is the land of my family" is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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