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祖国啊，我亲爱的祖国
舒婷
国庆70周年
我是你河边上破旧的老水车，
数百年来纺着疲惫的歌；
我是你额上熏黑的矿灯，
照你在历史的隧洞里蜗行摸索；
我是干瘪的稻穗；是失修的路基；
是淤滩上的驳船
把纤绳深深
勒进你的肩膊，
——祖国啊！
我是贫困，
我是悲哀，
我是你祖祖辈辈
痛苦的希望啊，
是“飞天”袖间
千百年来未落到地面的花朵；
——祖国啊！
我是你簇新的理想，
刚从神话的蛛网里挣脱；
我是你雪被下古莲的胚芽；
我是你挂着眼泪的笑涡；
我是新刷出的雪白的起跑线；
是绯红的黎明
正在喷薄；
——祖国啊！
我是你十亿分之一，
是你九百六十万平方的总和；
你以伤痕累累的乳房
喂养了
迷惘的我，深思的我，沸腾的我；
那就从我的血肉之躯上
去取得
你的富饶，你的荣光，你的自由；
——祖国啊，
我亲爱的祖国！
国庆70周年
My Homeland, My Dear Homeland
Shu Ting
I am an old, broken-down water-wheel by your river bank,
Creaking out my weary songs for hundreds of years:
I am the smoke-blackened miner’s lamp on your forehead,
Lighting your way in the underground tunnel of history;
I am the blighted rice sprout, the ill-kept highway;
The barge grounded on the shoals
Its towline cut more deeply into
The flesh of your shoulders.
O my homeland!
I am poverty.
I am sorrow.
I am your pained hope
Generation after generation
Flowers from the sleeves of flying apsaras, *
Not touching the earth for eons.
O my motherland!
国庆70周年
I am your newest ideal
Lately freed from the web of myth;
I am your lotus seed germinating beneath the snow quilt.
Your tear-stained dimples.
I am the freshly-painted starting line,
The crimson dawn
That’s bursting forth.
O my homeland!
I am one of your ten-thousand millions,
The sum total of your nine-million-six-hundred-thousand square kilometers.
With your bosom covered with wounds
You nourish me,
I who am bewildered, thoughtful, and ready to erupt.
Now receive
From my flesh and blood
Your riches, your glory, and your liberty.
O my homeland,
My dear homeland.
（Julia C. Lin 译）