Years ago, long before 1938,
Our ancestors, sailing by boat, crossing the vast ocean,
Leaving behind the family,
Arrived on this land, America.
At that time, America was but a barren land
Of mountain ranges with no sight of humanity.
Through our ancestors’ tireless work, reclaiming,
Turning it into high-rising metropolises today.
Take a look: That piece of earth—the forest, the mines,
Don’t you see our ancestors’ blood and sweat?
Take a look: That railroad, the ranches and factories,
Don’t you know that they are our ancestors’ handiwork?
Once the air-horn blasted, it’s time to work.
They picked up...