热度 1|
找到05年的这个,改些,存这里。
Under the cap my hair hardens with rage
While the rushing rain eases to fold.
Leaning against the rail, to the sky
From my boiling heart, a long cry is rolled.
Years of rank seeking is meaningless and
Memory of long march in wildness gets cold.
Let's push forward so that
We'll not merely regret when old.
Emperors kidnapped -- an insult yet to be avenged.
Th's the hatred in my heart, ever growing bold.
Let us drive our chariots
To tread over enemy’s stronghold.
We will feast on invaders’ flesh when declaring resolve and
Their blood will quench our thirst when stories are told.
Let's take back our land, then
Towards Royal Palace, high will our hands hold.
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