I don't know if it's moonlight or
Mother's white hair.
Late at night,
She sat in front of the bed, staring at something.
Maybe waiting for her delayed child.
Son, where are you?
Make a low call in the dark night.
Next to my cheek, there is a drop of liquid.
I don't know if it's dew or
Mother's swollen eyes shed tears.
In loneliness,
She stared at it, wondering what she was thinking.
Probably miss her runaway child.
Come back, son. I need you.
Just a mother's voice.
Mom, don't be sad, I've been here,
I'm not always with you,
Don't cry, please smile.
You see, I'm wearing all your clothes,
I love you,
I've been with you,
So, please don't cry.
Mom, my dear mom,
I will bless you again.
I can use magic,
Dye your white hair blue,
Will make a smile instead of a sad face,
Will write poems to praise you,
My dear great mother!