In the usual study, work and life, many people have come into contact with some classic poems, which are concise and vivid with distinct rhythm. So have you really understood poetry? The following is Bing Xin's poem Mother compiled by Bian Xiao. Welcome to share.
A poem for mother
Author: Bing Xin
Mom, for a long time
I just want to write a poem for you.
But I wrote it many times.
I haven't written it yet
Mom, I wrote this poem for you.
I don't know how to start.
I don't know how to end it.
I don't know what to write.
It's like slapping you hard when you were a child.
I don't know whether to accept it bravely.
Or should I choose to escape?
Mom, I thought of you again tonight.
I decided to write a poem for you.
Even if you don't write well, even if you are far from home
You will never read your mother. If you see a small white boat in your dream,
I was surprised that he dreamed for no reason.
This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wan Shui Qian Shan begged him to take her love and sorrow home.
enclose herewith
Bing Xin's poem to his mother: excerpt from the stars
1、
Mom!
Put aside your troubles,
Let me fall into your arms,
Only you are the destination of my soul.
2、
Mom! The wind and rain in the sky are coming,
The bird hides in its nest;
The storm in my heart is coming,
I only hide in your arms.
3、
Xishan!
Farewell!
I can't bear to leave you,
But I miss my mother.
4、
Mom!
My hair,
Put it on your knee,
These are countless bunches of roses you gave me.
5、
Mom!
The wet nurse shouldn't lie to me,
Who opened it first?
Where is the sad door in my heart?
You dry my present.
Laugh with tears.
The plaintive voice of the female beggar begging outside the building,
Take my heart away from sleep
It's smashed!
She took my mother,
Mother is no longer at the cradle.
This is the first time I feel it.
The void of the world!
6、
Mom, can you use the hands of dead tree skin?
Brush off the frost that has turned gray on your temples? I know
The bow of the red ribbon bleached the black hair in my memory.
Long time no see. Mother, as if nothing had happened.
Or wriggle a loose tooth gently?
It's neither too tight nor too slow. Laugh in tears
Sing some songs that are still fresh in my childhood.
Memory is the snake of missing. Draw a word
Winding forward, my bitter ink in this life.
Mom, are you still willing to use this cracked tongue core?
Lick my arrogant poison. I am in front of you.
Always a child who doesn't grow up.
So there is a vague topic called maternal love.
It is undoubtedly the stupidest injury to a wanderer.
Mom, you are old. You used to be as famous as chrysanthemums.
The edge of the white porcelain bottle has your residual medicine fragrance.
Plain silk was very popular in the old days. manage
Brushed the heart of love, but still
I can't hide your crazy concern.
The autumn wind has started. Even in the shadow of loneliness, mom
Don't catch cold either. No matter when and where
Sunset depends on a crutch called a child.
And you, on fertile soil.
Seeds covered with vegetation are sprouting and growing.
And I, at the moment. I just want to hear your call.
My real name. In a trance, mother
I seem to be back in the yard, next to the well where I drew water as a child.
Bing Xin's mother poems
I never refuse to throw away a piece of paper,
Keep it forever
Keep it,
Folding into a very small boat,
Throw it into the sea from the boat.
Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind,
Some are wet by the waves and stick to the bow.
I am still not discouraged, folding every day,
I always hope that a person can only flow where I want him to go.
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that he dreams for no reason.
This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wanshui Qian Shan, please ask him to come back with her love and sorrow!