Who will dress us when we are cold? Who will cook for us when we are hungry?
Who encouraged us when we failed? Happy for us when we succeed?
She is not a robot; This is not a computer. She is my mother.
Mom is not Santa Maria or Jesus? Not god,
But she is as gentle and kind as Santa Maya, as loving as Jesus, and as wise as God.
Ah! Mom, that's great!
"Mother's Poetry" Mother is a heavy book, enough to read for a lifetime! Pull the needle and thread carefully,
Spring shirts are still afraid of leaking cold. Do you hate having wings if you work hard? 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 life has gone through many vicissitudes, and you have experienced many joys and sorrows.
Your wrinkled face is engraved with the vicissitudes of nearly a century.
Your deep eyes have read all the rain, snow and wind in the world.
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 mother, how much pain and sadness has she suffered on her bent back?
Reading your mother, the long years have carried the dream of your life.
Read your mother, because love is your strong wing.