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.
But how much love there is in that inch-long grass, have you got three rays of spring?
lake
1. wind
The wind is beautiful and the fruit is beautiful.
Xiao Feng is beautiful.
Mammals in nature are also beautiful.
The water is beautiful. Water.
no one can match you
The moment of speaking is beautiful.
Your shabby door
Covered poverty is beautiful.
The wind blows all over the grassland.
The bones of a horse are green.
2. spring water
Spring spring
Biological lips
Blue mother
With the flesh
Wildflower piano
Cover the rock
Cover the bones and wine glasses
3. Cloud
mother
When you get old, your hair will droop.
Mom, you go to rest.
A quiet son is lying on the hillside.
Like quiet running water on a hillside.
Flowing through the sky
I sing clouds.
Sister of rain
Beautiful proposal
I know my poems praising couples are useless.
I sing clouds.
I know I will be happy in the end.
All sacred people
Gather in heaven
4. Snow
My mother sat on a low stool in her hometown and thought of me again.
That low stool seems to be my snow top.
Mom's stool
tomorrow morning
The beauty of light scattering at sunrise and sunset.
I want to see you.
Mom, mom
You face the barn.
Pedal dusk
I know you are old.
5. Language and well
Language itself
Like a mother
There is always a saying, walk by the river.
On both sides of the river of experience
On both sides of the river of images
Flowers are like gentle wives.
Listening ears and poetry
Covering the ground
Listen to the water of suffering
Water falls from a distance.
river
Mom often sits at the window recently.
How many times do you have to clean the glass a day?
The begonia outside is green and cherry red.
All her children are gone.
When she said she was pregnant with me,
How many times a day should I flatten my bulging clothes?
The knitted little clothes are neatly folded.
Thought I was coming.
She can't see me. Do you think I curled up and slept well?
The cluster of trees in front of the window is now
Weave her thoughts into the shaking leaves
She often paints the glass green.
I think I'll pull over.
May I have a good sleep before I come.
She made so many clothes and washed so many clothes for me.
I still keep the wool ball in my heart, waiting for today.
She always wants to see me, but can't see me.
Think about me and worry about me.
I'm afraid the world is beautiful.
Can you let me dance and cry again?
Tagore
I don't remember my mother.
Just in the middle of the game
Sometimes there seems to be a tune.
Spinning around on my toy
She is shaking my cradle.
Those tunes you hummed.
I don't remember my mother.
But in the early autumn morning,
The smell of acacia flowers is floating in the air.
The smell of morning prayers in the temple
It's like blowing my mother's breath to me.
I don't remember my mother.
It's just that when I look through the bedroom window,
Looking at the blue sky in the distance
in my opinion
My mother cured my eyes.
Filled the whole sky
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.