One, but how many love an inch of grass, and get three spring rays. -Meng Jiao's Wandering Sons.
Appreciation: Wandering Son is a five-character poem written by Meng Jiao, a poet in the Tang Dynasty. This is an ode to maternal love. The whole poem consists of six sentences and three crosses. By recalling a seemingly ordinary scene of mending clothes before he left, he highlighted and praised the greatness and selflessness of maternal love, and expressed the poet's gratitude for maternal love and deep love and respect for his mother.
This poem is sincere and natural. Although there is no algae painting or carving, its fresh, smooth, simple and plain language contains rich and mellow poetry, which has been widely read for thousands of years.
Second, Lin empty tears, see Ding Ning told home early. -Chen Quji, "Mother's Tomb Going to the West".
Appreciation: Chen Quji was an unknown poet in the Tang Dynasty, but this song "In the West, I left my mother's grave" wrote the voices of those whose mothers had died. The whole poem is simple and popular, poetic, vivid and touching. Gaogai Mountain is in the southwest corner of Fuzhou today. The poet is about to leave home and bid farewell to his mother's grave before leaving.
The main idea of the whole poem is: the sunshine in Gaogai Mountain is dim, and I stand alone on the mountain at dusk, and there are few birds in the mountain. I put a glass of wine on my mother's grave in the forest to express my respect and farewell to her. With my mother gone, I can only shed tears in vain, and I can never hear my mother's exhortation to "go home early".
Third, the heavy seam can't bear to be dismantled lightly, and there are old line marks on it. -Zhou Shouchang's "Drying Old Clothes".
Appreciation: Zhou Shouchang, a poet, saw his mother's hand-sewn old clothes and remembered her mother's dribs and drabs, not only bursting into tears. Thirty years; Robe: A robe made of coarse cloth. When the poet rummaged through the old things, he found that a coarse robe sewn for him by his mother thirty years ago was still kept in the cupboard.
The collar and sleeves of the robe are worn out, but I can still vaguely feel the temperature left by my mother on the robe. I want to sew this dress again, but I suddenly feel that I can't, because I really can't bear to remove the old thread marks left by my mother on this dress. In order to save it, we have to put this dress in the sun again!