那把铁锤,仍在叮当响,砸碎了旧世界,敲击着新希望。用它盖高楼,用它架桥梁,脚下的一条幸福路,铺开万里长。那把镰刀,仍在闪金光,割断了苦根藤,收获着新辉煌。有它粮囤满,有它富村乡,手中的一串好日子,红火万年长。党旗在风中猎猎飘扬,旗下举起了多少臂膀,历尽风雨永远鲜艳,灿烂 The hammer, still jingling, smashed the old world and knocked on new hope. Use it to build high-rise buildings, use it to build a bridge, at the foot of a happy road, spread miles. That sickle, still flash gold, cut the bitter root vine, harvested a new glory. Have it grain full hoarding, it rich village, in the hands of a string of good days, prosperous years. Party flag fluttering in the wind flying, how many arms raised his hand, forever stormy and bright, brilliant