Mom's birthday, a poem of gratitude

Grass can't repay the kindness of warm sun.

Unexpectedly, the silhouette of the lonely lamp at night is Xiao, and the child is like a dumpling, and the child is soaring.

The cold cream on your temples floats leisurely, reaching your skirt and waist in spring and your eyebrows in autumn.

In 32 years, the rainstorm poured down, the rain vanished, and my mind flooded.

Think of a loving mother who has worked hard for half her life and knelt on a suckling lamb to repay the present.

In October, the pregnancy is heavy, and the rewards and punishments are light. Song of advising filial piety

One-foot-three baby, ten years and eight years of work. Song of exhorting filial piety

The mother said that the child was dry when lying down, and the mother was wet when sleeping.

The mother's bitter son has not seen it yet, and the child's mother is uneasy. Song of advising filial piety

My mother is one hundred years old and often reads eighty children. Song of exhortation to filial piety.

The prodigal son will not feel cold when his loving mother is in front of him.