I was so weak when I was a child.
Mom is afraid that my little soul will be hooked by a kid.
It's money for burning paper, spreading tea and spreading rice.
As soon as the sun went down, he cried eagerly, "Great! You come back! "
However, the waves echoed in the small mountain village.
And I, leaning in my mother's arms, fell asleep sweetly.
The hatched chicks are far from home.
Spring comes and goes.
Only the old lady stubbornly sticks to her native land.
Plant a mountain of camellia oleifera and a ridge of peaches, plums and oranges.
That kind of lifelong concern
Every lonely night
I leaned against Chai Men.
Let the mountain wind blow dry.
Look at the direction of running water
I seem to hear it again: big ya! Come back!
2. Mother
Your love
It's a masterpiece without words.
Let me spend my whole life
It's hard to read them all.
Your eyes
Shining with simplicity and innocence
Guide me
Along the path
go straight
Your breasts.
Just a little.
But let me be in my heart.
In the blue sky of the soul
Found the dignity of the word man.
You are the seed before and after Grain Rain.
The inevitable scene.
Proper rain
When you are filling sorghum and corn,
The temperature of the sun is neither too hot nor too cold.
You are in front and behind the house.
A harvest determined to win
You're still
On a winter night
Under the candle lamp by the mud stove
Hands that are always busy.
3. Women
A woman in a yellow headscarf
Bend over the green potato field
Fight those reckless weeds.
Look at those hands with clear joints.
Dragging a gray vegetable that refused to surrender.
Bite your teeth until
There was a giggle in my throat.
The sun on the hillside is tired and owes half a body.
Reflect that a woman's face is red.
Much like the days when women struggle.