Sit opposite your mother.
Only two feet away.
You close your eyes.
I'm thinking.
In every wrinkle on your face
How many bumpy stories are hidden?
But still so calm and kind
On the frosted bread
Something you've been wearing for decades.
Dark green hairpin
Show off in the sun
Father is a day in your life.
From your satisfied expression
I can't find it.
The test of life
Wipe a little thread off your knee.
I am very happy and grateful.
On this beautiful spring afternoon
I can sit quietly with you
So, very happy.
It's good to have you.
Like in the kitchen.
The scene of nourishing soup
Such as pot cover
The lingering kitchen smoke
Overflow from the electric cake stand
The taste of pancakes
The fire on the small stove is very strong.
The sweetness of baked potatoes
Mother is very busy and light.
Perform on the stage like a star.
Waist twisting is more beautiful than dancing girls.
Humming a ditty is more euphemistic than a singer.
Mom.
This is your hard work.
Make home so warm.
It's your skillful hand.
There are exquisite three meals.
Life is colorful with you.
Life is sweeter with you.
mother
Blend Fanghua into the kitchen smoke.
Shake the moss into a cream dye.
Someone who warms his heart.
Sing the sweet and sour days with nagging
Her name is old in my memory.
Her waist was bent under the weight of home.
The hardships of life
Didn't make her stage fright on the stage of life.
Knife of the years
Carve her chrysanthemum-like face
Mom, calm as a chrysanthemum.
Show your brilliance in the world.
A happy game.
Childhood. (early) morning
Always awakened by the sound of mother's bellows
She pulled breathlessly.
Make the flame in the stove stronger.
Make the smoke on the roof thicker.
A match lit the day.
My warmth
It was the smile on her face when she saw her mother urging her to eat.
Mother is like a match.
Light fireworks on a prosperous day
Light up the happy life of the whole family.
The color of the night
Night in a foreign land
Missing and moonlight reaction.
Erase the color of childhood night
Mother's orange headscarf
Wrapped in the smell of rice ears
Make a detour on the threshing floor in the moonlight
Remember very clearly
That warm color
Fly in front of my half-squinted eyes
Haystacks in the moonlight are silvery white.
The thresher sang a lullaby.
I dozed off on the haystack.
A scene engraved in my heart
Always makes me feel the color of the night.
It is orange, granular yellow and silvery white.