Bees produce honey, love flowers;
Fish swim, love water; birds sing, love the sky.
My baby, if humans want to survive
They must love their comrades, love their brothers.
A single star does not bright up the night;
A single stalk of rice does not make a harvest;
A single man—doesn’t he make up the world?
If he lives, he’s just like a smouldering fire!
Mountains are high thanks to the piling earth,
And scorning that it is low, where else will mountains sit on?
Thousands of rivers pour into the deep ocean,
And scorning that they are small, how will ocean find water?
Old bamboos love bamboo shoots;
They pamper them as mothers shower love on their offspring.
Later on when you grow up
In your two strong arms you can embrace the world all around.