"What is the motherland?" It's a poem by contemporary writer Lu Yao. Using parallelism, the author lists a large number of historical and cultural images of the Chinese nation, and outlines a unique hometown and irreplaceable cradle for readers.

The content is as follows:

I have thought more than once, what is the motherland? I think, think, every time I think of the word "motherland", my heart is full of gentle waves, tears in my eyes and blood in my veins. What is the motherland?

She is a mountain, not a sea; It is a forest, it is a grassland; It is a village and a city; This is an endless desert and rolling hills. What is the motherland? She is a smoke, a pigeon whistle; Dragon Boat Festival is a dragon boat and Mid-Autumn Festival is a torch. It's a lover's affectionate kiss behind the wooden fence, a baby's babbling in the cradle, and a mother's pancake baked on the pot.

It was my father's exhortation when he was far away. What is the motherland? She is the reflection of Confucius, Laozi and Zhuangzi; This is a poem by Qu Yuan, Li Bai and Lu You. It is the prose of Han Yu, Liu Zongyuan and Su Shi. It is the word of Li Yu, Li Qingzhao and Xin Qiji; This is a painting by Badashanren, Zheng Banqiao and Qi Baishi. This is the calligraphy of Mi Fei, Huang Gu and Lin Sanzhi.

This is the practice of Six Gentlemen, Sun Yat-sen and Mao Zedong, the creation of the most wise masters among our ancestors, and the labor of my most respected ancestors. What is the motherland?

She was humiliated again and again, fought again and again, failed again and again, and rose again and again; She is the gun in the hands of soldiers and the blood on the neck of volunteers; It is a carnival after victory and an immortal chapter in history books.

There are many beautiful places in the world, but are there Huangshan, Yellow River, Yangtze River and Great Wall? Did my mother have clothes when she gave birth to me? Are there any footprints that I trudged step by step? Are there any folk customs that my relatives and friends and I are used to? Are there any local folk songs that make me feel sad when I start humming?

Don't! Since there are none of these, then the motherland is an irreplaceable place. Motherland, she is a love song that can't be sung and a beautiful article that can't be written. She is the place where our ancestors have thrived, and it is also the place where our children and grandchildren live and develop.

I have thought more than once, what is the motherland? I want to, want to.