The human body can leave,
People don't leave,
Just as we will never forget our ancestors,
Forget about mother.
Mother is the quilt on her body,
She will feel cold without it.
Mother is the salt in the dish,
Life is tasteless without her.
Mother must have her pain.
The pain of wandering,
It often hangs on her face,
Watching the children's laughter intertwined.
2. Mother's five-leaf tree
I got deeper and deeper. This world?
One world.
The pentaphyllum is full of poems.
mother
I am your forced mature child.
The child is wearing a faint tsing yi.
I am a handful of dirt, and you love every aspect of it.
Tonight you sit under the eaves of the country.
Gently wash one of the five leaves on your finger.
An autumn leaf
Dream cave
Mother and son are watching you by the river thousands of miles away.
Don't tell me where life takes place.
Something pierced my river.
Tears of reproduction!
There are many stars tonight.
ripple
Nocturne melodious
Mother's fingers are covered with the sanctity of youth.
The pentaphyllum is full of poems as heavy as autumn.
Her son stood on trembling hair.
Don't get excited because the flute blows out of my mouth. ...
Your life touched my dream of walking with you.
Every autumn, I shoot a horse under the tree.
Every autumn
I am under the tree.
Beat a horse