The soldier's soul soared and the general returned to the field;
Some people's names are engraved on this tall monument.
Their names frightened their enemies.
In the sunset, the sharp stone tablet is like a bayonet of blood.
In the twilight, low weeds covered the broken wall.
Festival salutes, songs and laughter came from distant cities.
Silence, I pay homage to the heroes of my predecessors in the cold wind.
Are they a group of coal diggers or a group of cultivators?
Did they snuggle up in the arms of a desirable beauty?
Are they wandering singers or weak scholars?
Why use hate bullets to kill their boredom?
Where are they from? Why did you leave home?
Why do they raise their swords and guns and fight for what?
Old lady YinShuang is her mother?
The young woman by the door is his family?
Look, the enemy is attacking me in phalanx.
Listen, the sound of machine guns and cannons makes the earth tremble.
Their blood has run out and their bodies can't be found.
The survivors were caught in another more cruel war.
They killed the enemy and were killed by another enemy.
Their lives were exchanged for a feast to celebrate the success of others.
Killing or being killed is the law of war.
No beautiful laurel can cover up bloody deception.
Come back, come back, come back.
The old woman dragged her broom and cried sadly.
Young women scattered snow-white paper money along the way.
A couple of children are playing hide-and-seek, which is really childish!
The wind sings softly, insects whisper, like crying and complaining,
The river is calm, Shan Ye is desolate, and the sky is full of stars.
Those bright stars are their incarnations?
They still look down on this miserable world in the sky!
Do they understand the full significance of that war?
Can all their ideals come true now?
Their names were stolen from the stone tablet by robbers,
The robbers are busy bluffing in the busy city!
I'm going home, I'll come again,
Come to the festival and mourn the hero with my poem!
Walking down the crumbling stone steps, a loud horn suddenly sounded in my ear.
Suddenly looking back, a group of heroic soldiers are training in the cold wind!
The dead Hua Lian team sacrificed to the martyrs who visited the grave one day.
In the night before dawn, Gao Fengshan lit a torch.
In order to solve people's livelihood, Yingjie is willing to bury wasteland!
The noble wind festival is handed down from generation to generation, the team day is clear, and the tomb of the hero is presented with flowers.
After the rain and dew, the new seedlings will become immortal trees!
Sprinkle blood on the battlefield,
The spirit of martyrs can be carried forward.
Sweep away the old feudal forces,
Establish * * * and new ideas.
There is no head and scattered sand in the darkness.
Follow the party and Qi Xin will shine brilliantly.
The legacy of the younger generation is inherited,
Enriching the people and strengthening the country with this health.
Car guns rumbling, heading south, military emergency.
When attacked by air, Yinghu Lake was splashed with blood and flew to the enemy.
The soldier was nameless and ruined, and he rushed to clean up people's worries.
The sun rises, the water gurgles, and the monument follows.
Seek liberation and resolve.
Please don't die. Keep fresh.
Justice should be unforgettable and memorable.
The elder sister was heartbroken and the martyr was buried in peace.
A thousand generations of red flags stand upright in the wind.