我不是最初的耕耘者。这片墨黑的压严的土地它的黑蕴含着光明，世纪的顶霎田它说出。我抬起手臂撒下“好好学习，天天门上”八出闪闪发光的你干理进孩子们的心中。从此我就是园丁了，松工、施肥、浇水满怀希望；从此，我就是人梯了“孩子们，踩着我的肩头往上攀登”我用浓于擦 I am not the first cultivator. This dark, dark land of darkness contains the bright, centuries-old roof Sharpfield it says. I raised my arm and sowed “a good study, every day on the door,” eight glittering you dry into the hearts of children. Since then, I was a gardener, pine work, fertilization, watering full of hope; from then on, I was a human ladder, “children, stepping on my shoulders up” I use thick rub