What are the poems with the lyric theme of mother in ancient and modern China and abroad?

the song of the homeless

Tang mengjiao

The mother used the needle and thread in her hand to make clothes for her long-distance son.

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?

human

Tang Bai Juyi

Mothers are different from children, and children are different from mothers. During the day, there are no lights and crying.

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.

Barcos de papel

backbone

I never refuse to throw away a piece of paper,

Save it forever.-Save it,

Folding into a very small boat,

Throw it into the sea from the boat.

Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind,

Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow.

I still fold every day and never give up.

I always hope that a person can only flow where I want him to go.

Mom, if you see a very small boat in your dream,

Don't be surprised that he dreams for no reason,

This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.

Wan Shui Qian Shan begged him to take her love and sorrow home.

mother

Shu Ting

Your pale fingertips touch my temple.

I can't help acting like a child.

Hold on to your skirt

Ah, mom.

In order to keep your fading figure

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.

Afraid that cleaning will make it

Lose your unique warmth

Ah, mom.

Isn't the running water of the years just as ruthless?

I'm afraid the memory will fade, too.

How dare I open its screen easily?

I cried to you for a thorn.

Now I'm wearing a Jing Guan, and I dare not.

I dare not moan.

Ah, 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 like this.

Although I have written many songs.

For flowers, for the sea, for the dawn.

Ah, mom.

My sweet, soft and deep memory.

Not a torrent, not a waterfall.

It's a dry well, and it can't sing under the shade of flowers and trees.