Famous words of maternal love: 1. Motherly love will never dry up. This shows that maternal love is very great and will always be with us. (Gonchard) 2. Losing a loving mother is like putting a flower in a bottle. Although there is still color and fragrance, it has lost its roots. I think this sentence shows that loving mother is as important to a person as roots are to flowers. (Lao She) 3. All the glory and pride in the world come from mothers. (Gorky) 4. Motherly love is a huge flame. (romain rolland). There is one of the most beautiful voices in the world, and that is the mother's call. (Dante) 6. A loving mother's arm is made of love. How can a child sleep in it without sweetness? (Hugo) 7 The sweetest word a person's lips can utter is mom, and the best call is "mom". (Ji Bolun). Motherly love is the greatest power in the world. (Mill) 9. When you succeed, everyone is a friend. But only mother-she is a partner in failure. (Zheng Zhenduo) 10. How strong, selfish and fanatical is maternal love. (Duncan) 1 1. How similar mothers all over the world are! Their hearts are always the same. Every mother has a very pure heart. (Whitman) 12. My mother loves me so much that I will try my best to prove that this love is worth it. (Xia Jiaer) 13. How strong, selfish and fanatical is maternal love. (Duncan) 14. A mother's heart is an abyss in which you will be forgiven forever. (Balzac) 15, Motherly love is the greatest power in the world (Mill) Sogou Encyclopedia-Mother &; lt； & amplt； The wrinkles on mother's forehead &; gt； & ampgt； Mother left a deep, shallow and winding road on her forehead, specifically reminding us to remember her marks. These marks, whether brilliant or disastrous, bright or secret, or legend, or long-term hope or profound reminder, or symbol of madness or profound introspection, are deeply and clearly depicted in the distance from her eyebrows. Immediately ... What is a mother? My mother smiles as sweetly as a blooming lily. Warm sunshine always shines on my heart. This is a vicious scolding. I ate two cakes this morning because I didn't answer the math paper well. At noon, she suddenly sent me a cake at school. You asked her when her birthday was. My mother said she didn't know. In fact, I want to influence the distant mountains to carve a towering monument for you. You have worked hard to store your prophetic words, mother. In fact, I want to stir up the slowly flowing waves in the valley, find the bright spring of your soul for you who have worked hard and dried up, and thank you for your meticulous warm mother. In fact, I want to cover the whole colorful spring, remember the happy spring and autumn for the people who have been running around all your life, and extend your happy time, mom. In fact, I want to find my long-lost mood of writing poetry, and I don't want others to praise you. Write a sincere thank-you letter to prove what your great heart is. My mother is a sweet smile like a blooming lily, and the warm sunshine always shines on my heart. This is a vicious scolding because I didn't answer the math paper well. At noon, she suddenly went to school to send me a cake. You asked me when her birthday was. Dear mother, she said she didn't know her mother. In fact, I want to influence the mountains in the distant sky and carve a towering monument for you who are trying to store your prophetic words. In fact, I want to stir up the slowly flowing waves in the valley, look for the bright spring in your heart for you who have worked hard and dried up, and thank your meticulous and warm mother. In fact, I want to cover the whole colorful spring, let you remember the happy spring and autumn, and prolong your happy time, mom. In fact, I want to find my long-lost mood of writing poetry, and I don't want others to praise you. I want to write a letter full of sincere gratitude to prove your great heart. Mother: Shu Ting, your pale fingertips manage my temple. I can't help but hold on to your skirt as I did when I was a child. Mother, in order to keep your drifting figure, although the morning light has cut the dream into wisps of smoke, I still dare not open my eyes for a long time. I still cherish that bright red scarf, for fear that washing it will make it lose your unique warmth. Isn't mom's running water the same in those years, heartless and afraid of fading her memory? How dare I open its screen easily? I cried to you for a thorn. Now I'm wearing a watch and dare not say anything. Mom, I often look up at your photos sadly. Even if I call for penetrating the loess, how dare I disturb your sleep? I dare not show the sacrifice of love like this. Although I have written many songs for flowers, the sea and the dawn, my sweet and tender memories of my mother are not rapids and waterfalls, but dry wells and ice hearts that can't be sung among flowers and trees: paper boats-I never gave up a piece of paper for my mother, but I kept it one by one. Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind, and some were wet by the waves and stuck to the bow. I still don't give up and fold every day. I always hope that a place can only flow where I want it to go. Mom, if you see a white boat in your dream, don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason; This is my beloved daughter with tears in her eyes. Wanshui Qian Shan, please bring her love and sorrow home. Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring? Agree with 9| Comment (2) 2011-319: 28 I _ know _ more | Level 41,Jiao's Poems of Wandering Children, a thread in the hands of a kind mother. Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged. Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring? 2, "Don't be an old mother" Zhong went to worship the mother river beam, worried about tears. This is a tragic snowy night in Chai Men. It is better to have children than nothing at this time. 3. Wang Song Anshi put her mother in the ditch and her family in the shade during the Tenth Five-Year Plan. When I heard about Du Yu in the moonlight, I was always worried about the North and the South. 4. "Arriving home at the end of the year" Qingjiang Shiquan loves his son endlessly and is happy to return to his hometown. Cold clothes are needle and thread, and letters from home are ink stains. If you encounter pity, you will ask for it. I am ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh. 5, "Mother Biezi" Tang Baijuyi's mother Biezi, son Biemu, crying during the day without lights. General Guan, an ancient general title, won a new title last year. Welcome Luoyang as a flower with a gift of 2 million yuan. New people welcome old people and abandon them. Lotus in the palm is a thorn in the side. It's not sad to welcome the new and abandon the old, it's sad to leave two children at home. At first, I walked with my hands. At first, I sat and cried and grabbed people's clothes. With your new beauty, my mother and son will be separated. It is best to have a crow and a magpie in the forest, and the mother will not lose the young males and females. It should be like a peach and plum tree in the garden, with flowers falling on the branches with the wind. Newlyweds, newlyweds, listen to me, Luoyang infinite red chamber girl. I hope the general will make contributions and there will be more new people who are better than you. 6, "Motherly Love" Yuan Yang Weizhen loves her chicks, and Zhao is the Crown Prince. The dragon and tiger are different every day, and the dog looks forward to the eagle. There is no six-foot orphan under the knee, and a Zhao is not born in May. At night, the ghost lights are blurred, and the snow leaks more than four drums. A hundred officials don't hold Dong Hu's pen, so why do widowed wives shout? What's more, Han Wangjin stabbed a silver axe in front of the bed, which was a disaster. 7, "Xuan Mo Map" Wang Yuan Mian colorful daylily flowers, Luosheng Beitang. The south wind blows the heart, for whom do you vomit? A loving mother leans against the door, but a wanderer cannot walk. May the sun be sparse and the day be fearful. Looking up at Yunlin, I am ashamed to listen to birds. 8. "Whose Son" Tang Hanyu was neither crazy nor crazy. He went to the palace to call a Taoist priest. The old white-headed mother hid her face and cried bitterly, and her shirt sleeves were torn. Cui Mei's bride, twenty years old, sent her home and cried all over the city. Or Yun wants to learn to fight, Mu Biqiang. It's also vulgar and ordinary, risking your position. Although there are legends about immortals, everyone who knows them knows their falsehood. Sages can be bullied, but how can they die of poverty? Alas, Yu Xincheng is my brother, and I am willing to teach in the end. It's never too late to punish a hundred strategies. Whose relatives and friends can pity me and write my poems as gifts? 9. "Short Songs" is the day when Tang was born and came out. Going up the mountain late, going down the mountain ill. Thirty-six thousand dynasties in a hundred years, half a day at night will be better. There are songs and dances, so be sure to be early. Yesterday was better than today. People see men and women as good, but they don't know that men and women make people old. Short songs, no music. 10, "Answer to the Old Man in Zhou Bei" Zhang Tang said that the old man with negative salary went to Zhou Bei, and Wangbei Township was worried about his life. He said that the old man had three sons, all of whom had died in Huangsha. Now that the child has just grown up, he will confess next year. Knowing this, we will fall apart and cannot live and die together. Borrow a farm house from Wu next door, and then go to the countryside alone. It's even harder to have more children. Recently, it is said that the Emperor advocates martial arts and vegetables, and Qiang Bing wants to be quiet. Ensuring border security is a long-term policy, so there is no need to expel China people. 1 1, "Night Shift" Don Hotel has no sleep on a cold night, and the guest's heart turns to sorrow. Tonight, my hometown is full of thoughts, and the Ming Dynasty is worried for another year. Agreed 13| Comments 2011-3-1418: More than 23 years is a good rainy season for Du Fu in the first-class Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night, when spring occurs. Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently. The wild path is dark, and the river is bright. Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy. Spring Rain (Prose Poetry) ◆ Text/Lin Yuhong Spring Rain is like silk, looking at tall buildings in the distance, filled with rain and fog, and it seems that there are countless ups and downs of mountains. Litchi is leafy, with dark red tops and swaying in the rain. Shrubs along the road stretch out bright green leaves and suck nectar, and several sparkling pearls hang on their tips. Spring rain is like silk, like smoke and fog, recalling the past eventful years, with little sorrow. The envy of the red owl soars in the blue sky, and the desire of the eagle fights in the sea. However, there is no wisdom of Zhuge, no stupid ambition and no mediocrity. I don't know when I can return to the sea! The spring rain is like silk, caught in the wind, and the traffic outside the window is endless, extending a rugged life track. Leave your hometown, try to change the status quo and run for life. Although you are satisfied with the present situation, you must turn sparrows into swans. Spring rain is like silk. Through the spring rain, we can look forward to the beauty and magic of this vast world, and look forward to the ambition of Hongyan, so that we can co-prosper with the mountains and rivers, and the dragons will flourish. This list agrees with 8| Comment 2012-3-2919: 01 Enthusiastic netizen jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow. I still don't give up and fold every day. I always hope that a person can only flow where I want him to go. Mom, if you see a white boat in your dream, don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason. This is your beloved daughter with tears in her eyes. Wanshui Qian Shan, please let it go home with love and sorrow. Lotus leaf and red lotus (Bing Xin) have been eight years, and I haven't seen lotus flowers in the yard-but there are many in my hometown's yard: there are not only three stalks, but also four stalks, all of which are red lotus. One moonlit night nine years ago, my grandfather and I were enjoying the cool in the garden. Grandpa smiled and said to me, "When Santi Lian Gang opened our garden, you three sisters joined our big family." The whole family was very happy and said that they had accepted Huarui. I feel a little bored when I hear the complicated rain in the middle of the night and get up early on a cloudy day. When I looked out of the window, the white lotus had withered, and the white petals floated on the water like a boat. There is only a small lotus and a few pale yellow flowers on the stem. The red lotus that bloomed last night has bloomed this morning, standing gracefully among the green leaves. Still uncomfortable! -wandering for a while, the thunder outside the window, and then the heavy rain came, intensified. The red-violet flower was scattered by dense raindrops. Under the empty sky, I dare not go downstairs or think about it. Calling my mother in the room, I quickly went over and sat next to her-when I turned around, I suddenly saw a big lotus leaf next to Honglian, leaning over slowly ... My restless mood disappeared! The rain did not subside, but red-violet did not waver. Raindrops kept beating, only on the brave and kind lotus flowers, some weak water droplets gathered. I was deeply moved-mom! You are a lotus leaf, and I am a red lotus. The raindrops in my heart are coming. Except you, who is the shade under my unobstructed sky? On this beautiful day, with the breath of spring, a hymn dedicated to my mother came to you and me. My heart is like the sea. I really want to sing an ode for you. I am neither a singer nor a poet. I won't write touching melodies into poems. Oh, I lack flash inspiration and genius thinking. I am ashamed that the deepest love can't be explained by a trickle. But today, I want to present a heart song for you. May my song turn into a needle and thread to mend your split wound. May my songs turn into raindrops and nourish your thirst. May my songs turn into a cloud and bring fragrance to your life. May my song turn into a cloud and refract sunshine for you. Time has crossed my shoulders, sweet and delicious food, warm and soft sweater. Tireless teaching; Connect you with my life. I finally know that there is something in this world that is more continuous than the water of the Yangtze River and more breathtaking than the trend of the Yellow River. Tougher and evergreen than the green of pine and cypress; That's your love, your deep love, selfless love, my mother. I don't understand everything you give me, but if you polish my eyes, the world will be displayed before my eyes. I can always see a pair of big hands helping me move forward on my strange life road, so my life is no longer lonely and my road is no longer strange. Looking at your beautiful big hands, the sight in front of you is blurred. ...........................................................................................................................................'s big hands are stroking their historical vicissitudes, but they can't help but sigh that the irreparable time is these eager eyes. You never stop walking, and you don't know what the destination is. Your soul has left the body. Aren't you tired? After all, the world will be gathered by eyes, and the street you walk through is no longer strange. Looking at those beautiful big hands, my eyes will feel blurred. Although ..................................................................................................................................... is not grinding, although he is not an ox, although he is not a painter, it is hard to grind, but he has the patience of an ox, but he has the deep affection of a painter. However, when children grow up, they grow up loving and beautiful. They only blame her and hate beautifying their children. However, children always forget her when they grow up. How many children in the world understand this truth? How many children in the world understand this truth? The cheapest and most priceless name is mom! Never return kindness. Call mom! ——————————————— Poem for Mother Volume One "A Harvest Life" From the day I was born, I fell in love with my mother's face. I stared at the slanting sunset, and the hippo was carrying the moon and the new stars, which filled me with sadness. My thoughts swim loudly in the ink, and my pen is full of summer thoughts on the manuscript paper. My eyebrows were twisted out of the muddy night, and my mother's messy hair was twisted out. In a delicate rain, by the river in my hometown, I remembered my mother's beauty and gentleness. I thought of my mother's smile, and acacia climbed up my cheeks. I am every cheerful river in the moonlight, and my dream lies on the riverbed of my hometown, with a hot land. My mother's eyes are full of traces of time. I stared at the years. Like a sickle waiting for autumn harvest. I swing in the sweet fruit. My autumn belongs to the season of poetry. Every memory of my hometown lives in my mind. A flock of sparrows flew in to grab all the poems related to dreams. I'm a kid with a slingshot. Suddenly, my eyes filled with tears. My eyes fly along the rolling mountains, overlooking the dreamy colors of human beings. Swallows flew to me and whispered kindly. I playfully hung upside down on the branch, playing with the secret of my palm print. Those wild vegetables, stones and rabbits, I walked through the night with the torch of spring, stood on the barren hills with the wings of my poems, and the eagle swept over to grab the mature grains. I sang songs in the early morning of autumn, and I selflessly planted the vision of my childhood and the wheat field where my soul lived. The language of poetry is now silent wheat. I lay peacefully in the eyes of fireflies, and my poems took me to heaven. Inadvertently picked up the wings of a pair of waterfowl and outlined a blue sky of their own. Agree with 0| comment 2012-4-9 20: 5110840719 | Second-class children worry about taking Wan Li Road. Only when the children are brought up can they know the kindness of their parents. The world is spacious and the parents are generous. All the glory and lesson plans in the world come from mothers. (Gorky) There is one of the most beautiful voices in the world, and that is the mother's call. (Dante) The sweetest words a person's lips can utter are his mother: The best call is that there is only one best woman in the world, and that is my mother. (Genghis Khan) Motherly love is a huge flame. (romain rolland) Motherly love is the greatest power in the world. (Mill) The most beautiful scene in the world is when we think of our mother. (Mo Bosang) Paper Boat (for Mother) Bing Xin I never refuse to throw away a piece of paper. I always keep it-keep it, fold it into a boat and throw it into the sea. Some were blown into the ship's window by the wind. Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow. I still don't give up and fold every day. I always hope that a person can only flow where I want him to go. Mom, if you see a white boat in your dream, don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason. This is your beloved daughter with tears in her eyes. Wanshui Qian Shan, please let it go home with love and sorrow. Lotus leaf and red lotus (Bing Xin) have been eight years, and I haven't seen lotus flowers in the yard-but there are many in my hometown's yard: there are not only three stalks, but also four stalks, all of which are red lotus. One moonlit night nine years ago, my grandfather and I were enjoying the cool in the garden. Grandpa smiled and said to me, "When Santi Lian Gang opened our garden, you three sisters joined our big family." The whole family was very happy and said that they had accepted Huarui. I feel a little bored when I hear the complicated rain in the middle of the night and get up early on a cloudy day. When I looked out of the window, the white lotus had withered, and the white petals floated on the water like a boat. There is only a small lotus and a few pale yellow flowers on the stem. The red lotus that bloomed last night has bloomed this morning, standing gracefully among the green leaves. Still uncomfortable! -wandering for a while, the thunder outside the window, and then the heavy rain came, intensified. The red-violet flower was scattered by dense raindrops. Under the empty sky, I dare not go downstairs or think about it. Calling my mother in the room, I quickly went over and sat next to her-when I turned around, I suddenly saw a big lotus leaf next to Honglian, leaning over slowly ... My restless mood disappeared! The rain did not subside, but red-violet did not waver. Raindrops kept beating, only on the brave and kind lotus flowers, some weak water droplets gathered. I was deeply moved-mom! You are a lotus leaf, and I am a red lotus. The raindrops in my heart are coming. Except you, who is the shade under my unobstructed sky? On this beautiful day, with the breath of spring, a hymn dedicated to my mother came to you and me. My heart is like the sea. I really want to sing an ode for you. I am neither a singer nor a poet. I won't write touching melodies into poems. Oh, I lack flash inspiration and genius thinking. I am ashamed that the deepest love can't be explained by a trickle. But today, I want to present a heart song for you. May my song turn into a needle and thread to mend your split wound. May my songs turn into raindrops and nourish your thirst. May my songs turn into a cloud and bring fragrance to your life. May my song turn into a cloud and refract sunshine for you. Time has crossed my shoulders, sweet and delicious food, warm and soft sweater. Tireless teaching; Connect you with my life. I finally know that there is something in this world that is more continuous than the water of the Yangtze River and more breathtaking than the trend of the Yellow River. Tougher and evergreen than the green of pine and cypress; That's your love, your deep love, selfless love, my mother. I don't understand everything you give me, but if you polish my eyes, the world will be displayed before my eyes. I can always see a pair of big hands helping me move forward on my strange life road, so my life is no longer lonely and my road is no longer strange. Looking at your beautiful big hands, the sight in front of you is blurred. ...........................................................................................................................................'s big hands are stroking their historical vicissitudes, but they can't help but sigh that the irreparable time is these eager eyes. You never stop walking, and you don't know what the destination is. Your soul has left the body. Aren't you tired? After all, the world will be gathered by eyes, and the street you walk through is no longer strange. Looking at those beautiful big hands, my eyes will feel blurred. Although ..................................................................................................................................... is not grinding, although he is not an ox, although he is not a painter, it is hard to grind, but he has the patience of an ox, but he has the deep affection of a painter. However, when children grow up, they grow up loving and beautiful. They only blame her and hate beautifying their children. However, children always forget her when they grow up. How many children in the world understand this truth? How many children in the world understand this truth? The cheapest and most priceless name is mom! Never return kindness. Call mom! ——————————————— Poem for Mother Volume One "A Harvest Life" From the day I was born, I fell in love with my mother's face. I stared at the slanting sunset, and the hippo was carrying the moon and the new stars, which filled me with sadness. My thoughts swim loudly in the ink, and my pen is full of summer thoughts on the manuscript paper. My eyebrows were twisted out of the muddy night, and my mother's messy hair was twisted out. In a delicate rain, by the river in my hometown, I remembered my mother's beauty and gentleness. I thought of my mother's smile, and acacia climbed up my cheeks. I am every cheerful river in the moonlight, and my dream lies on the riverbed of my hometown, with a hot land. My mother's eyes are full of traces of time. I stared at the years. Like a sickle waiting for autumn harvest. I swing in the sweet fruit. My autumn belongs to the season of poetry. Every memory of my hometown lives in my mind. A flock of sparrows flew in to grab all the poems related to dreams. I'm a kid with a slingshot. Suddenly, my eyes filled with tears. My eyes fly along the rolling mountains, overlooking the dreamy colors of human beings. Swallows flew to me and whispered kindly. I playfully hung upside down on the branch, playing with the secret of my palm print. Those wild vegetables, stones, rabbits, I walked through the night with the torch of spring, stood on the barren hills with the wings of my poems, and the eagle flew over to grab the ripe grain. I sang songs in the early morning of autumn. I selflessly planted my childhood dreams and planted a wheat field where my soul lived. The language of poetry is silent wheat. Now, I am lying peacefully in the eyes of fireflies, and my poems have taken me to heaven. Inadvertently picked up a pair of waterfowl wings and outlined a blue sky of their own.