Good wants to pull your microcheiria, pastes tightens in my chest.

好想牵你小手，贴紧在我胸口。

This year although the bumper crop, she does not discard a grain of grain, the microcheiria picks up the golden rice ear, in the dimple fills the wave which smiles.

今年虽说大丰收，她不丢掉一粒粮，小手拾起金稻穗，酒窝里充满笑的浪。