When I was a child, homesickness was a small stamp.
I am here and my mother is there;
When I grow up, homesickness is a narrow ticket.
I am at this end and the bride is at that end;
Later, homesickness became a temporary grave.
I am outside and my mother is inside;
Now, homesickness is a shallow strait.
I am here and the mainland is there.
2. "Poetry for Mother" Modern: Bing Xin?
Mom, I have long wanted to write a poem for you.
But I wrote it many times, but I still didn't write it well. ?
Mom, I wrote this poem for you.
I don't know how to start or how to end.
I don't know what to write, just like slapping you when I was a child.
I don't know whether to accept it bravely or choose to escape. ?
Mom, I thought of you again tonight.
I decided to write a poem for you, even if it is not well written.
Even if it is far from home, you will never read it.
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that he dreams for no reason. Your beloved daughter folded it with tears in her eyes.
Wan Shui Qian Shan begged him to take her love and sorrow home.
3,' Mother' Modern Edition: Shu Ting
Your pale fingertips caress my temple, and I can't help being like a child.
Hold on to your skirt?
Oh, mom, in order to keep you from disappearing,
Although the morning light has cut the dream into smoke, I still dare not open my eyes for a long time.
I still cherish that bright red scarf, for fear that it will be washed.
Lose your unique warmth,
Oh, mother, isn't the running water of the years just as ruthless?
I'm afraid my memory will fade, too How dare I open its screen easily? I cried and asked you for a thorn, but now I'm wearing a jingguan, and I dare not.
Dare not moan, oh, mom,
I often look up at your photos sadly,
Even if the call can penetrate the loess, how dare I disturb your sleep? I dare not show the sacrifice of love in this way, although I have written many songs.
For flowers, for the sea, for the dawn,
Oh, mom, my sweet and deep memory,
Not rapids, not waterfalls,
It's a dry well, and I can't sing in the shade of flowers and trees.
4, "Mother" Author: love?
Mother is as humble as moss and as solemn as morning light.
Soft as the sound of water in the south of the Yangtze River, hard as the cold jade of a thousand years.
When I raised my eyes, she was Hao Yue.
When she lowers her head, she is a huge earth.
5, "Parents Love" Author: Qiu Hai
Parents' love is like a cup of strong tea, which needs us to savor carefully.
If maternal love is a ship, it carries us from adolescence to maturity;
Then fatherly love is a sea, which gives us a happy harbor.
If the mother's true feelings ignite the hope in our hearts;
Then my father's love will be our sail.