I don't remember my mother.
Just in the middle of the game
Sometimes there seems to be a tune.
Spinning around on my toy
She is shaking my cradle.
Those songs I hummed.
I don't remember my mother.
But in the early autumn morning,
The smell of acacia flowers is floating in the air.
The smell of morning prayers in the temple
It's like blowing my mother's breath to me.
I don't remember my mother.
It's just that when I look through the bedroom window,
Looking at the blue sky in the distance
in my opinion
My mother cured my eyes.
Filled the whole sky
Jinhua
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.
2. Tagore's maternal love poem "Mother"
I don't remember my mother,
Just in the middle of my game
Sometimes it seems that a tune revolves around my toy.
It's the song she hummed when she shook my cradle.
I don't remember my mother,
But in the early autumn morning,
Albizia flowers float in the air,
The smell of morning prayers in the temple blows me like a mother.
I don't remember my mother,
Only when I look at the blue sky in the distance from my bedroom window,
I want my mother to stare at my face.
Filled the whole sky.
3. Poems about Motherly Love Tagore's aphorisms and proverbs praising his mother:
Motherly love is a huge flame. -romain rolland (France)
Motherly love will never dry up. -Goncharov (Su)
Motherly love is a simple, natural, rich and inexhaustible thing in women's hearts, just like a major factor in life. -Balzac (France)
Women are fragile, but mothers are strong. -Hugo (France)
Mom, you are the perfect combination of mother, confidant and friend! Tagore (India)
Motherly love not only refers to the mother's love for the child, but also includes the child's love for the mother. -Munir Nassov (Kuwait)
Mother is the only force that can make death yield-Gorky
All the glory and pride in the world come from mothers. Gorky
There is one of the most beautiful voices in the world, and that is the mother's call. -Dante
Bing Xin's Paper Boat
I never throw away a piece of paper,
Save it forever.-save it.
Fold into a 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 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 was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wan Shui Qian Shan, please carry her love.
And sadness.
Eternal mother
When I first opened my newborn eyes.
The first thing I saw was the incomparable holiness of my mother.
Love eyes and tears of joy-
Staring at you without blinking an eye.
Your hazy and ignorant heart beats instinctively
But I can't express my feelings, just dancing around.
I am so anxious that you can't help crying loudly.
After many days and nights of cultivation
Sit up straight at last, your little body.
After adjusting EQ and IQ
Never wait, shout out life.
The most precious first sound-mom
This is the most touching original moral.
No matter how many languages there are in the world.
Only this cry is absolutely the same.
No music, no poetry.
It can be more touching than this.
A traveler's song
The mountains are unwilling to send away the sunset.
Affectionate sailors are unwilling to sail.
Hope is calling.
The outside world is my paradise,
A free heart is flying.
Mom, do you care about me?
Mother looked at me uneasily.
Mom, do you want my life to be more exciting?
Mother looked at me with relief.
Listen to the train, the flute ...
Holding hands tightly through the window.
Mother's love
We also love our mother. Half brilliant and half brilliant.
But mom doesn't love us. That's where the spring breeze passes.
We like streams.
Mom, dear is the ocean, our happiness.
It's the smile on mom's face.
Dew on Achnatherum splendens illuminates our pain.
Round and bright is the deep sadness in my mother's eyes.
That's light from the sun. We may go far away.
But I can't walk out of my mother's square.
April day
Dry old clothes.
The robe is still there and the collar is still warm.
I can't bear to take it lightly when sewing again, and there are old thread marks of loving mothers on it.
Author: (Qing) Zhou Shouchang
Mom!
The wind and rain in the sky are coming,
The bird hid in his nest;
The storm in my heart is coming,
I only hide in your arms.
Tagore's motto about maternal love seems to be
Tagore
I don't remember my mother.
Just in the middle of the game
Sometimes there seems to be a tune.
Spinning around on my toy
She is shaking my cradle.
Those songs I hummed.
I don't remember my mother.
But in the early autumn morning,
The smell of acacia flowers is floating in the air.
The smell of morning prayers in the temple
It's like blowing my mother's breath to me.
I don't remember my mother.
It's just that when I look through the bedroom window,
Looking at the blue sky in the distance
in my opinion
My mother cured my eyes.
Filled the whole sky
! ! !
5. What are Tagore's poems about "maternal love" 1? Tagore has only one poem about "maternal love", and that is "Golden Flower". The original text is as follows:
Jinhua
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 in front of the window and read "y m 4 n".
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.
2. Appreciate:
(1) The Golden Flower is undoubtedly a work full of bold and novel imagination. The poet borrowed the imitation of "Golden Flower" to make childlike innocence seem real and unreal.
(2) Usually, when people write about a child's innocence and naughtiness, they can only think about how cute and naughtiness he is, how he behaves like a fool in front of his mother, or deliberately creates contradictions to attract her more attention and care.
(3) Tagore's imagination is often beyond people's expectation, and he chose the metaphor of "golden flower" to deal with this common theme. Most great writers have this talent. They are good at digging out unusual miracles in what people take for granted.
3. About the author: Rabindranath Tagore (186 1 year-1941year) is a famous Indian poet, writer, social activist, philosopher and Indian nationalist. 1861On May 7th, Rabindranath Tagore was born into a wealthy aristocratic family in Kolkata. 19 13 years, together with gitanjali, he became the first Asian to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. His poems contain profound religious and philosophical views, and Tagore's poems enjoy epic status in India, such as Gitanjaly, Birds, Sand in the Eyes, Four Men, Family and the World, Gardeners Collection, New Moon, The Last Poetry, Gora and Crisis of Civilization.
6. Poems about Motherly Love Tagore praised his mother's motto and proverb: Motherly love is a huge flame.
-romain rolland (France) Motherly love never dries up. -Su Maternal love is simple, natural, rich and never exhausted in a woman's heart, just like a major factor in life.
-Balzac (France) Women are fragile, but their mothers are strong. -Hugo (France) Mom, you are the perfect combination of mother, confidant and friend! Tagore (India) Motherly love means not only the mother's love for her children, but also the children's love for her.
-Munir Nassouf (Kuwait) Mother is the only force that can make death yield Gorky All the glory and pride in the world come from mother. -Gorky There is one of the most beautiful voices in the world, and that is the mother's call.
-Dante's "Paper Boat" Author: Bing Xin I never refuse to throw away a piece of paper, keep it-pile it up into a boat and throw it into the sea. Some were blown into the window of the ship by the wind, and some were wet by the waves and stuck 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 white boat in your dream, don't be surprised that it dreams for no reason.
This is your beloved daughter with tears in her eyes. Wanshui Qian Shan, please bring her love and sorrow home. When the eternal mother opens her newborn eyes for the first time, the first thing she sees is her mother's extremely holy and loving eyes and tears of joy-her eyes stare at you unblinkingly, and your hazy and ignorant heart beats instinctively, but you can't express your feelings. Her limbs danced wildly for you-she couldn't help crying loudly. After many days and nights of cultivation, she finally sat up straight. Your little body has never waited after adjusting her emotional intelligence and IQ. I shouted the most precious first voice in my life-Mom, this is the most touching original meaning. No matter how many languages are floating in the world, only this sound is absolutely the same. No music, no poem can be more touching than this one. Wandering among the mountains, passionate sailors are unwilling to send away the sunset and sail.
Hope is calling. The outside world is my paradise, and my free heart is flying.
Mom, do you care about me? Mother looked at me uneasily. Mom, do you want my life to be more exciting? Mother looked at me with relief.
Listen to the sound of the train, the flute ... hold a pair of hands tightly through the window. Mother's love, we also love our mother. Half brilliant and half brilliant, but not the same as mom's love for us. That's where the spring breeze passes. We like this stream. Mother's baby is the ocean. Our happiness is a smile on our mother's face. Our pain is round and bright. It is the deep sadness in my mother's eyes. That's the light from the sun. We may go far and far, but we can't get out of the square in our mother's heart. In April, we hang old clothes and carry robes.
I can't bear to take it lightly when sewing again, and there are old thread marks of loving mothers on it. Author: (Qing) Zhou Shouchang's mother! The wind and rain came, and the birds hid in the nest; The storm in my heart is coming, so I can only hide in your arms.
7. Tagore's mother Poem Cloud and Wave %D%A Mom, people who live in the clouds call to me %D%A "We play when we are awake until the end of the day.
%D%A "We play with the golden dawn, and we play with the silvery white moon." %D%A I asked, "But how can I contact you?" %D%A They replied, "Come to the edge of the earth, raise your hand to the sky, and you can be caught in the clouds."
%D%A "My mother is waiting for me at home," I said. "How can I leave her?" %D%A, so they floated away smiling. %D%A But I know a better game, Mom.
%D%A I'm Yun and you're Yue. %D%A I cover you with both hands, and our roof is the blue sky.
%D%A People who live on the waves call to me %D%A "We sing from morning till night; We go forward, go forward, and don't know where we have gone. " %D%A I asked, "But how can I join your team?" %D%A They told me, "Come to the shore, stand there, close your eyes, and you will be taken to the front of the waves."
%D%A I said, "My mother often lets me stay at home at night. How can I leave her! " %D%A So they came laughing and jumping. %D%A But I know a better game.
%D%A I am a wave, and you are a strange shore. %D%A I rushed in, rushed in, rushed in, and broke into your thigh with a smile.
%D%A No one in the world will know where we are.
8. Tagore's poems about childlike innocence and maternal love
Boy, you are so happy. You have been sitting in the dirt all morning, playing with the broken branches.
I watched you play with that broken branch with a smile.
I'm busy with the accounts, adding figures there hour by hour.
Maybe you are looking at me and thinking: this boring game wasted your good time in the morning!
Boy, I forgot how to concentrate on playing with branches and mud cakes.
I look for expensive toys and collect gold and silver.
You, whatever you find, play your happy game. As for me, I waste my time and energy on what I will never get.
I struggled to sail across the sea of desire in my fragile canoe and forgot that I was playing games there.
astronomer
I just said, "The full moon hangs on the branches of Catambo at night. Can anyone catch it?"
My brother smiled at me: "Son, you are really the stupidest child I have ever seen. The moon is so far away from us, who can catch it? "
I said, "Brother, you are so stupid! When mom looks out the window and smiles and looks down at our game, can you also say that she is far away? "
My brother still said, "You silly child! But, son, where are you going to find a net big enough to catch the moon? "
I said, "You can naturally catch it with both hands."
But my brother still smiled and said, "You are really the stupidest child I have ever seen! If the moon comes near, you will know how big it is. "
I said, "Brother, what you teach at school is really useless! Does mom look big when she bows her head and kisses us? " But my brother still said, "You are such a silly child."
Yunhelang
Mom, the people who live in the clouds are calling me.
"We play from waking to the end of the day.
"We play with the golden dawn, and we play with the silver moon."
I asked, "But how can I contact you?"
They replied, "Come to the edge of the earth, raise your hand to the sky, and you will be caught by the clouds."
"My mother is waiting for me at home," I said. "How can I leave her?"
So they laughed and floated away.
But I know a better game, mom.
I am the cloud and you are the moon.
I cover you with my hands. Our roof is blue sky.
People who live on the waves call to me.
"We sing from morning till night; We go forward, go forward, and don't know where we have gone. "
I asked, "But how can I join your team?"
They told me, "Come to the shore, stand there, close your eyes, and you will be taken to the waves."
I said, "In the evening, my mother often lets me stay at home. How can I leave her! " "
So they came running, laughing and jumping.
But I know a better game.
I am a wave, and you are a strange shore.
I rushed in, rushed in, rushed in, and broke into your thigh with a smile.
No one in the world will know where we are.
9. Tagore's "Golden Flower" praising maternal love
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 in front of the window and read "y m 4 n".
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.