A modern poem about respecting elders

Good mother, old mother, the dusk has arrived at such an hour

The road has been blocked at such an hour

Close the cold cheek of the window glass

I know my mother is wading through the crowd and walking home. Oh, old mother, the sky has turned dark.

Hey, old mother, why haven’t we seen your return?

My grandparents are in the house. Trying to sleep

My father and younger siblings listened carefully to the door

The fire torch gave me a generous gift of red light

O old mother, why haven’t we seen your return yet? Streetcars are speeding by

Close to the window glass

Our noses vibrated slightly

The rain started to fall

What if you die

Good mother

What if you die? Oh, old mother, it’s already dark.

Hey, old mother, why didn’t we see your return?

Elders Waiting for what they are thinking in the house

Serene as the cups and plates on the dinner table that we have counted many times

The songs of my brothers and sisters flow into the distance

Is it the old mother? When disaster strikes, you are no longer there. The crowd is surging and the rain is falling

Good mother, you find yourself knocked down by a car

You close your eyes and endure the silence

Children came from afar and then stood upright and howled

Oh our young and good mother, old mother

Do you really want to shake our outstretched hands away and then the door opened and the steps were messy

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Our old mother stood in front of us

She said she dropped by so-and-so’s house

She said so-and-so greeted her father and asked him to choose a day to stay.

< p>She turned sideways and smiled at the dazed children

Bent down to dry their eyes. Our good mother, we are so happy that you are back

Please forgive our children's momentary illusions.

We won in the fight with the devil

We protected our mother even though she didn’t know it

At that moment we thought that our good mother could not Die

She can't die. What will we do if she dies