When a row of bronze bells rang, the rich and clear left sound and right rhyme went from far to near, and through the long years of 5,000 years and the colorful flower season of 53 years, they rippled in layers on the shores of rivers, rivers, mountains and seas, echoing each other from afar, and condensed a theme in the hearts of hundreds of millions of China people: motherland! We use the voice of Guan Ju in The Book of Songs; With the rhyme of Qu Yuan's Ode to Orange; There are ancient styles and Yuefu, regular poems and Sanqu; Sing the glory of your magnificent years and your magnificent scenery with Beijing Opera, Shaanxi Opera, Bangzi and ancient porcelain. We use Yue Fei's Red River, Wen Tianxiang's Song Zhengqi, Lu Xun's Scream and Zhu Ziqing's Back to sing your unyielding backbone, your unyielding dignity and sacredness. We used the bunch of wild flowers in Qu Qiubai's hand; With Fang Zhimin's share of poverty; With those grass roots in Yang Jingyu's belly; With a patch on Liu Zhidan's chest; Under the oil lamp in front of the coke window; Sing out your tenacity and tenacity, and your soul and spirit with the footprints left on the snowfield of Kong Fansen. Dear motherland, let's weave colorful lanterns and brocade with the hands of picking EU, tea and mulberry. Let's shout at the throat of the river and sea, sing the national anthem and the flying five-star red flag in the golden morning of the golden season, and sing the passion that has been surging for thousands of years. The Yellow River is fierce, the Yangtze River is strong, Mount Tai is strong, and Kunlun Mountain is rugged. Wan Li mountains and rivers walked in front of Tiananmen Square, past teams of Lei Feng, past teams of Xu Honggang, past teams of Li Xiangqun and past teams of Fang Hongxiao, the most romantic, beautiful and affectionate steps of China people. Get out of the most spectacular phalanx of the Chinese nation! Looking up at the blue sky, "shenzhou spaceship", the space shuttle; Overlooking the earth and the Three Gorges Project is breathtaking. Dear motherland, five thousand years of implication and accumulation, fifty-three years of sublation and inheritance, an oriental giant can say "no!" " "When you can talk. You have gathered the largest, widest and greatest popularity and prosperity in the world today. No matter how rough it is, peace and development are your aspirations! You are neither humble nor supercilious, striding at the dawn of the new century with a generous, open, profound and quiet attitude! In the east wind of the 16th National Congress, a new generation of China is forging ahead into the future and leading the Chinese nation to new glories.
I love my motherland, and I also love its natural scenery.
I not only love the mountains and rivers of the motherland, but also love every grass, tree, flower, stone, brick and tile. I also feel kind and worthy of my nostalgia and care.
Not to mention the forests in Russia, the oceans in Britain, the lakes in Finland and the islands in Indonesia. We in China have our own magnificent and great natural scenery.
We have Mount Everest with thousands of years of snow on our heads, a vast loess plateau, a lush Xishuangbanna, an endless North China Plain, a mighty Yangtze River, a virgin forest in Xing 'an Mountains, a coconut grove and a blue sea in Hainan Island, a vast green pasture in the northwest provinces, and an endless river, lake and swamp in the motherland! Which place is not run by the hands of workers, and which place is not filled with the sweat of workers and the blood of soldiers?
I love the land of our motherland! Strong winds swept it, hail hit it, frost and snow blocked it, fire burned it, heavy rain washed it, soldiers of foreign slave owners trampled it, and imperialist shells bombarded it. However, despite these hardships, it still exists silently. In spring, it woke up again, confidently showing full commerce and brilliant scenery.
This is the motherland's answer to the workers. Bare mountains are covered with dark green robes, hills become green stacks, valleys become vast fields, and swamps become mirror-like lakes. The mountains are stacked to show that they are obedient, and the violent river is willing to run. ...
The mountains of the motherland always have feelings for us. Every time we sing them a song, they always respond with equal loudness and enthusiasm.
I love the working people of my motherland. They open up wilderness, grow food, pick rivers or dig wells to feed me.
I miss my mother. She fed me with her breast milk, and she stroked my head with a big slap. To this day, I can still feel the temperature in her arms.
I love the culture of my motherland. Sometimes, when reading the famous sentences in China's poems, I feel the most subtle feelings, grasp the thought that is thought-provoking, imagine the beautiful picture, feel the sonorous rhythm and melodious rhythm, and appreciate the indescribable charm. When I read it proudly, I don't want to say it over and over again. Carefree, fascinating. I shed tears when it touched my heart.
I love the language of my motherland. Every word of it is closely related to my life, with my heartbeat.
From the simplest sentence, I can think of a long line of corridors, a series of mountains, forests, cottages, fields, ponds and lakes.
I have been away from my motherland for several years. In those days, I really can't tell you how much I miss my motherland. This kind of nostalgia is both pain and happiness. What hurts is the comrades who are far away from the motherland and the mountains and rivers of the motherland; Happiness is having such a great motherland that I miss it.
Nature of the motherland often changes its clothes. In spring, it wears colorful clothes; Summer, covered with lush and light summer clothes; In autumn, it wears a golden red solemn dress; I changed into a simple white robe in winter.
The change of seasons in nature promotes the growth of new things.
This is the news of spring: look! The branches turned slightly blue, and insects began to sound outside the window. I know that a new generation of insects are celebrating their new happiness in my familiar language.
In spring, I walked to the window in the warm and humid breeze and asked about my health. "Thank you, lovely spring," I said.
How soft, lush and full of vitality the green spring grass is! Its green grass color extends to the distant horizon that the footprints of spring can reach. ...
Therefore, grass can cause many associations and reverie more than flowers.
Lush flowers and trees cover the ancient tombs, and moss covers the broken bricks and tiles. The world has changed, but spring is always circulating.
In the early morning of summer, the rural girl walked barefoot, stepping on the crystal dew on the grass and carrying a bucket of water covered with a silver stream. Larks are singing in the sky, and the morning glow shines on her bright red cheeks.
What a simple beauty of workers!
It's cold in the middle of the night in summer, and I've fallen asleep.
Suddenly I heard the moon knocking on my window and quietly told me that your son was playing the accordion in the Woods of the mountain village and having a Children's Day party with the children in the countryside. ...
In autumn, golden red fruits and colorful yellow leaves are everywhere. But it also makes people feel a little tired, because some trees have too many children.
On the clear autumn night, the feather clouds in the sky are like gauze, and the breeze slowly drags across the Tianhe River, and countless stars in the Tianhe River are extinguished.
The close-up of the world makes people forget the vastness of the sky!
Can't snow lotus get out under the ice peak and snow ridge? What do you think of it, compared with the water lilies on the rippling spring?
In the Huamu Palace, bees are buzzing there. I think this is the song of workers!
As the night gets darker, every tree stands on tiptoe, looking at the east and expecting the morning light. Sure enough, before long, the red-faced sun came out, and it kissed every tree tip happily and gave out a golden smile.
Twilight lurches in the boundless Yuan Ye. Finally, I saw him fall like a drunk and disappear into the night. When I wake up tomorrow morning, he has disappeared without a trace, only seeing the rising sun in Ran Ran in the sky.
Some people think that the sound of autumn insects brings the desolation of dusk, while others think that the chirping of orioles adds the joy of spring.
People often have different reactions to natural scenery and acoustics because of their different status and circumstances.
You may have seen the tiny shadow of the sun under the flowers, or you may have seen the delicate tree shadow beside the boulevard, but you'd better go deep into the forest and see the wonders of the arrow of light when the sun shines in the morning.
I have been to many famous scenic spots in my life, but what impressed me most is the stream in front of my hometown. In spring, the spring water overflows, and the two holes in the bridge are like a pair of smiling eyes. The drizzle is like smoke, and people walk by with umbrellas from time to time on the bridge. On the other side, red cotton trees are in full bloom, swallows are flying around in the rain, and there are intermittent residual flutes in the wind. ...
I often lie on the levee near the Yangtze River, listening to the sound of Jiang Tao patting the shore. I think of the battle between Battle of Red Cliffs and Caishiji, the heroic scene when the long-haired army captured Yuezhou, and the battle of Tingsi Bridge during the first revolutionary war. These figures are all in the past, only the giant factory chimneys beside the Linli River show our new era.
Facing the surging Yangtze River, I remembered its development.
At first, it was just a drop of water from Koizumi under the snowy mountain ice rock, and then it gradually became a trickle between moss and talc, and then it jumped into a deep valley with white happy waves. Then it gradually developed. A moment is a clear stream lingering between cattle and pasture, a moment is a boiling and roaring waterfall, and a moment is a lake with rippling mirror waves and quietly reflecting blue sky and white clouds. Another time, it was a torrent running between mountains and narrow valleys. I don't know how many twists and turns, and finally it accommodates many clear and muddy tributaries, forming an endless and mighty river.
During holidays, I often invite my companions to climb mountains.
We don't believe there are any "immortals" in the clouds around the top of the mountain, nor do we believe there are any "noble people" in the depths of the white clouds.
We go climbing to rest our brains, strengthen our physique, enrich our knowledge and exercise our revolutionary will.
When we climbed the first mountain with great strength, we looked back at the winding path we passed and the eagle flying under our feet. We didn't feel like shouting and whistling.
After climbing several hills, we saw higher mountains overlooking us. Very easy to climb the last peak, look around, looking at towering cliffs, abrupt cliffs, rugged rocks, standing pine trees. There is a vast sea of clouds under our feet. Through the cracks in the clouds, we can see the countryside and the road to the horizon. ...