Give me black eyes, and history will open.
The cold wind comes back to the north and back to the south.
This ancient longitude and latitude weaves my ancestors.
The Yangtze River is my brother and the Yellow River is my sister.
The same curved back, the same salty tears.
The same self-improvement is not discouraged, the same essence.
How many incense ashes, how many Mengjiang tears.
Carrying weight, bending the back, but never retreat.
Ten thousand li long gray wall, ten thousand years of sleep.
Ten thousand years of horseshoe dust, ten thousand years of unyielding also do not regret.
The same as the back of the salty tears.
The same self-improvement is not discouraged, the same essence.
The same curved back, the same salty tears.
Our ancestors once told us never to retreat, never to retreat.
When the sun takes off, shining.
Let the tears condensed into history flow eastward and never return
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