Chapter 1: A poem praising great maternal love (female) is you, who brought me into this world.
Teach me how to walk through ditches when I grow up.
When I was learning English, you showed me the outside world.
When it's freezing, you put my hand in your arms to keep warm.
You use the needle of love to thread the thread of patience, needle by needle, needle by needle.
Weave a warm home
That delicious food, clean clothes, are all your love quietly spread.
(Female) If I were a kite, you would be the string to pull it.
The child walks on Wan Li Road, and the mother's heart is filled with that sentence, telling.
It is the yearning for wanderers.
If I were a boat, you would be a lighthouse in the harbor.
Emit eternal light.
Guide me to the lost ocean
Sail to the other side of safety
This is mother's love. She is as soft as a child, as light as smoke, as deep as the sea and as grateful as a mountain.
Woman: One day two thousand years ago, the ancient city of Pompeii in Italy was instantly submerged by volcanic lava.
After two centuries of changes,
People were deeply shocked by a fossil.
This is a mother, curled up on the ground and holding a baby tightly in her arms.
As we can imagine,
When the suffocating lava pounced on the residents who could not escape.
The desperate mother bent down and held her young son in her arms with her back, head and limbs.
She hopes to use her own flesh and blood to resist the hot magma for the children in her arms.
She wants to give her child a chance.
This is a mother's most instinctive hope in do or die.
Although, ruthless magma still drowned them.
But the scene of mother and son embracing each other has become history forever.
(Male) One day after two thousand years, the sky in Tangshan collapsed.
A mother and son were buried under the rubble.
Eight days, eight whole days.
When rescuers found them, the seven-or eight-month-old children were safe and sound.
And the mother, but never left this world.
In a cold, water-free and food-free environment
It is the mother who continues her child's life with milk.
The milk was sucked dry and she bit her finger hard.
Let the children suck their own blood.
Until the last drop of life passes
It was not until people discovered the miracle of life created with the loving mother's heart (together) that the mother paid and chose without regrets.
This is the mother's highest interpretation of the meaning of life
Flowers can wither and the sea becomes a mulberry field.
But mother's love will remain in our hearts forever.
(Female) When youth shines on our faces.
Years have also frosted my mother's temples.
We sheltered from the wind and rain under our mother's big tree.
However, they are indifferent to the care and friendship of trees.
However, mother contained our extremes with kindness and soothed our anxiety with warmth.
Dear mother, let your children do something for you.
Maybe, in a word, a glass of water, a hug,
A carnation
It will make you happy and smile.
Because the mother's heart is always so easy to satisfy.
(Female) Dear Mom, today is your holiday.
Your children use the most sincere language in the world.
Bless the mother of the whole world:
Happiness, well-being and beauty forever.
Chapter two: Poetry recitation, praising the great maternal love when I was a child.
Motherly love is the cradle.
Mother hummed nursery rhymes.
Shake it, shake it.
I rocked to Waipo Bridge.
When I grow up
Maternal love is a bowl.
Hot egg noodles
And a new cotton-padded coat.
There is heat in my heart
Body warmth
afterwards
Motherly love is just some trivial nagging.
There are thousands of instructions before leaving.
Son, it's good to be at home. It's always difficult to go out.
It's not good to be outside. I miss home.
Just come back early.
Now
Motherly love is the telephone in your hand.
There are also long telephone lines that are pulled.
Home phone number
Wanderers dial their hearts every night.
Chapter III: Praise the great maternal love. Mother Reading Poetry Manuscripts is a heavy book, enough to read for a lifetime!
Pull the needle and thread carefully,
Spring shirts are still afraid of leaking cold.
Hard work, hate not having wings,
Cut off all the blue light and look pathetic.
People often say: 500 times in previous lives.
Only for the passing of this life.
I don't know how many times I have saved my memory.
In exchange for being in love with your mother and daughter
Mother, you gave me life with great love.
In more than forty years of life,
I have been reading you in my own unique way.
Your simple and rich connotation
It is worth my life to understand and appreciate.
Mom, it is your love that keeps me growing up.
Your vicissitudes of life, how many dusk misty rain you have experienced.
Your wrinkled face is engraved with the vicissitudes of nearly a century.
Your deep eyes have read all the rain, snow, wind and frost on earth.
How much hope did those calloused hands weave?
That full head of hair, years have dyed her frost.
The wind blows the old year, telling the lost time.
How many bumpy mountains and ridges have you climbed with strong steps?
Dream, the overflowing map, still radiates dazzling light.
Reading mom, bend your back.
How much pain and sorrow have you suffered?
Reading mother, a long time.
Carrying the dream of your life
Reading mother because of kindness
-These are your strong wings.