Let me sink into your arms, only you are the destination of my soul. Mom! The wind and rain in the sky are coming, the birds are hiding in their nests, and the wind and rain in their hearts are coming. I have to hide in your arms. (2) Praise innocence. Bing Xin's praise of innocence is a natural extension of her maternal love in another direction. She prefers everything young, immature and budding. She regards children as the most innocent and lovely friends in the world, and compares the ugliness and goodness of society with innocent beauty. It is the truth in a dream, the dream in reality, and the tearful smile when recalling. Truth lies in the silence of babies, not in the debate of wise men. (4) Baby is a great poet. He tells the most complete poem with incomplete words. (3) Love and praise for nature. Bing Xin advocates and loves nature. This is in line with her advocacy of maternal love. She is. Deep Blue Sky, Twinkling Stars, Silent Shadows of Trees, Pink Lotus, Dark Green Lotus Cover, Pale White Flowers, Crimson Fruits, Meteors, the Sea, Mountain Shadows and Sunset ... all exude the breath of life, with rich images and single-minded feelings. (5) the waves in my hometown! The waves you splashed once pounded my rock drop by drop, and now they pounded my heartstrings drop by drop. (6) Creator-If there is only one blissful promise for my eternal life, I will sincerely beg: "I am in my mother's arms, my mother is in a boat, and the boat is in the moonlight sea." The theme of Bing Xin's poems is reflected in this collection of poems, which puts maternal love. The beauty of nature is integrated with innocence. (4) Thinking and understanding of life. The words "human" and "sentient beings" appear repeatedly in Bing Xin's poems. These poems are all produced by the poet in the process of exploring life, so some of her poems are full of feelings. They contain the philosophy of life and are thought-provoking. (7) A successful florist only amazes her present brilliance! However, from the beginning, her bud was soaked with tears of struggle and blood rain of sacrifice. (8) flowers in the corner! When you admire yourself, the world will become smaller. The last poem in the catalogue, stars in turn, stars in turn, springs in turn, springs in turn, springs in turn, welcome the Divine Comedy, send a white rose to the Divine Comedy. (1) the sick poet. (2) The goddess of poetry is ill. (3) If I were a writer, the "future" goddess yearned for evening prayers. (1) evening prayers. (2) I can't bear to see the homesickness of the ten-year mission chronicle-Ms. Shi HH defected to the enemy all the way. Be good, don't step on this flower, and dedicate it to our beloved grandma Song-remember a sentence from a primary school student. My secret after the rain.