Ah, mom.
Author: Shu Ting
Your pale fingertips touch my temple.
I can't help acting like a child.
Hold on to your skirt
Ah, mom.
In order to keep your fading figure
Although the morning light has cut the dream into smoke.
I still dare not open my eyes for a long time.
I still cherish that bright red scarf.
Afraid that cleaning will make it
Lose your unique warmth
Ah, mom.
Isn't the running water of the years just as ruthless?
I'm afraid the memory will fade, too.
How dare I open its screen easily?
I cried to you for a thorn.
Now I'm wearing a Jing Guan, and I dare not.
I dare not moan.
Ah, mom.
I often look up at your photos sadly.
Even if the call can penetrate the loess
How dare I disturb your sleep?
I dare not show the sacrifice of love like this.
Although I have written many songs.
For flowers, for the sea, for the dawn.
Ah, mom.
My sweet, soft and deep memory.
Not a torrent, not a waterfall.
It's a dry well, and it can't sing under the shade of flowers and trees.
Third, the paper boat-send mother
Author: Bing Xin
I never give up a piece of paper,
Save it forever.-Save it,
Folding into a very small boat,
Throw it from the boat into the sea!
Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind,
Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow.
I still don't give up and fold every day.
I always hope that a place can only flow where I want it to go.
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason;
This is my beloved daughter with tears in her eyes.
Wanshui Qian Shan, please bring her love and sorrow home.
All the glory and pride in the world come from mothers. (Gorky)
Motherly love is a huge flame. (romain rolland)
There is a most beautiful voice in the world, and that is the call of mother (Dante)
Mom, where you are, where is the happiest place (UK).
A loving mother's arm is made of love. How can a child sleep in it without sweetness? (Hugo)
The sweetest word a person's lips can utter is mother, and the most beautiful call is "mother" (Ji Bolun)
Motherly love is the greatest power in the world (Mill)
Everything else in the world is false and empty, and only mother is real, eternal and immortal. (India)
How strong, selfish and fanatical is maternal love, occupying the feelings of our whole soul. (Duncan)
In the child's mouth and heart, the mother is God. (UK)
How similar mothers all over the world are! Their hearts are always the same. Every mother has a very pure heart. (Whitman)
Women are fragile, but mothers are strong (France)
Without the help of selfless maternal love, the child's mind will be a desert. (UK)
2、
Bing Xin: A Paper Boat for Mother
I never give up a piece of paper,
Save it forever.-Save it,
Folding into a very small boat,
Throw it from the boat into the sea!
Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind,
Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow.
I still don't give up and fold every day.
I always hope that a place can only flow where I want it to go.
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason;
This is my beloved daughter with tears in her eyes.
Wanshui Qian Shan, please bring her love and sorrow home.
-
Shu Ting: Oh, Mom.
Your pale fingertips touch my temple.
I can't help acting like a child.
Hold on to your skirt
Ah, mom.
In order to keep your fading figure
Although the morning light has cut the dream into smoke.
I still dare not open my eyes for a long time.
I still cherish that bright red scarf.
Afraid that cleaning will make it
Lose your unique warmth
Ah, mom.
Isn't the running water of the years just as ruthless?
I'm afraid the memory will fade, too.
How dare I open its screen easily?
I cried to you for a thorn.
Now I'm wearing a Jing Guan, and I dare not.
I dare not moan.
Ah, mom.
I often look up at your photos sadly.
Even if the call can penetrate the loess
How dare I disturb your sleep?
I dare not show the sacrifice of love like this.
Although I have written many songs.
For flowers, for the sea, for the dawn.
Ah, mom.
My sweet, soft and deep memory.
Not a torrent, not a waterfall.
It's a dry well, and it can't sing under the shade of flowers and trees.
-
Tagore
If I become a golden flower, for fun,
Growing on a tall branch, swinging in the air with a smile,
Mom, will you still know me?
If you yell, "Where are you, son?"
I snickered there, but didn't say a word.
I will quietly open my petals and watch you work.
When taking a bath, my wet hair falls over my shoulders and passes through the golden flowers shaded by green trees.
When you go to the small courtyard of prayer, you will smell the flowers.
But I didn't know the smell came from me.
At lunch, I sat at the window and read Ramayana.
When the shadow of that tree falls on your hair and knees,
I want to cast my little shadow on your page,
Right where you are reading.
But can you guess that this is a small shadow of your child?
When you take the lamp to the cowshed at dusk,
I'm going to suddenly fall to the ground again,
To be your child again, please tell me a story.
"Where have you been, you bad boy?"
"I won't tell you, mom."
That's what you and I were trying to say.
-
Mother is as humble as moss,
Solemn as the morning light,
As soft as the voice of Jiangnan,
Hard as a thousand years of cold jade,
When I raised my eyes,
She is Hao Yue:
When I looked down,
She is a vast land.
-Love