Red classic poetry recitation 3 articles

Why is recitation a kind of re-creation? The reason is that in the recitation language is full of, condensed with the reciter's deep taste, unique feelings, skillful techniques, sound charm. Below I have organized the red classic poetry recitation, for your reading reference.

Red classic poetry recitation 01

In honor of the Xinhai Revolution

By: Quit Nian

I remember that year,

a gunshot,

from now on opened,

a new history.

The end of this period of time,

is the endless darkness,

a trace of starburst,

gradually become bright.

The corridor of history,

will always bring us,

a lot of revelation,

but never wear out.

Our today,

is with their yesterday in exchange for,

Our smile,

mixed with the blood and tears of our forefathers.

Thinking of this history,

We have high morale,

Looking back,

is our new beginning.

Please don't forget,

our forefathers,

Please don't forget,

their struggle.

The Xinhai Revolution,

The moment the light flashed,

was the beginning of the new China,

the course of life.

The red classic poetry recitation piece 02

words of revolution

By: South Lake water

Xinhai year gone dynasty,

Ming Qing Qing Qing bully Qing gone nowhere.

Restored, democracy, **** and,

Came life.

This is only the beginning;

With, thoughts, customs,

Farewell, everything.

It was only when China became China,

that China was restored.

Is it true that from this moment on, talents are people,

He said, shake hands, bow,

Gone, bend your knees, long live.

Is it, or is it not,

Hope has come to the East,

I think so, surely.

Snow the barbarian's shame,

No, no, no, no, no,

Seems like this is just, just the beginning,

Will revitalize our China,

Familiar with the righteousness of the three peoples,

Who would have thought that there are thieves usurping the plot,

Lost the righteousness,

Whether you can still remember,

The righteous flag of that year,

Raised.

The flag of righteousness was raised that year.

With the wooden boat on the water of the South Lake,

carrying up the yellow soil,

ushered in, sickle, hammer.

Started,

Started.

Do you still want to listen,

listen to the mountain azalea red,

you,

still the same you,

I,

still the iron bone of me.

Promised the silent earth full of silos,

smoked out the fragrance of rice.

The Long March

The belief is getting higher and higher, the suffering is shorter and shorter

The resounding footsteps make tens of thousands of mountains wake up collectively

The gold of the sunlight flickers on a trekking shadow

The green uniform's pallor contains the power of endless birth

The deep nest of the feet is the flower of the revolution.

Twenty-five thousand miles is not just a road

It is a sharp knife that cuts through the enemy's schemes

Twenty-five thousand miles has shaken off grief and despair

It has brought out strength, bravery and optimism, and has lit up

9.6 million square kilometers of light

At this moment, I want to walk on the same road that the Red Army has walked on again

To see the place that the Red Army has walked on.

Look at the blue sky, white clouds, snow-capped mountains, and touch the roots of the grasses that fed

the hungry, and I want to sit in the midst of the high mountains and steep hills

Sitting on a slightly aching wound of the hard times

Turning into a drop of blood, no! I want to brush off the dust of history and touch the road

like a string of pearls of memory