Poem in praise of the wonderful Jinghu

By Cotton

Bamboo, Rin, Ridiculously Sacrificing This Life

Donating Limbs Solidified with Youth

Ponytails and Snakeskin Martyrdom

Amber Tears Drops Drop by Drop

A Distant Promise Calls for You to Come Back to Life

Once you turn around and dedicate yourself to Peking Opera

From then on, you are called Jinghu

Your name is Jinghu, and people have come to recognize you as Jinghu.

A thin body

Just one spine

Two sinews

The handsome elite

A pair of bows

Tied up your sinews

Tired of bending your back

But still maintaining the tension

The pain of intertwining

The pain of sharpening the silence of the people

The pain of the people

The pain of the people

The pain of the people

The pain of the people

The pain of the people

The pain of the people

The pain of the people

The sound of Beijing accent

The music that haunts our dreams

The melodious and melodious sound of low and high

How many people have been obsessed with you

The sound of clanging strings

Tells of a thousand years of China's love affair

Though behind the scenes

You make the dust shiver

A symphony of the national art form.

You're the leader

You carry on loyalty, filial piety and righteousness

You've never given up the glory and loneliness

The immortal Peking Opera

Carrying on the great issues of traditional culture

We're lucky to have you

The good fortune of the Great China