Whenever the distant sight stings, my father's entrustment will echo again.
Every time I read an article about my hometown, tears quietly flow down.
Missing will knock on the night window, and my father's spine and rough palm will appear in front of me.
My father's footprints are all over the field, silently cultivating the hope of life.
How I want to snuggle up to my father and fly in the smoke of my old house. Every sleepless night, I dream of returning to my hometown.
Father said that the outside world is wonderful and helpless, so we should inherit and carry forward the simplicity and innocence of farmers.
You can't forget your roots. Good character is your wings. Your words will never be forgotten by your father and son.
You are the helmsman in my life, guiding me when I am confused.
How much hope do you have in your eyes? I want to sit quietly in your palm, feel the strength of my loved ones, give me strength and sail in the waves of family gatherings.
I remember that year, you sent me to a foreign school and looked at strangers and dazzling buildings.
My heart is full of anxiety and confusion. You patted me on the shoulder, son. You are far from home. Take care of yourself and learn to heal yourself.
But I can clearly see your tears, hidden in the cuffs, and this deep love has cast my solid backbone.
That night, the dormitory was cut off. You lit a faint candlelight for me and stared at my face quietly.
You are speechless, and I know that, father, you must hope that I am as thick and unassuming as the mountain in my hometown.
Father, don't worry, I will keep your words in mind and follow your example in everything to be a good boy with both ability and political integrity.
Last year, you were ill. I brought you to me and took good care of you, and finally your face turned red again.
I said, dad, stay and let me be filial, but you said you have your own responsibilities and can't abandon everyone's family.
My tears are coming down again. I know, father, you still have to turn the old alley in your hometown into a classic poem.
Father and son's voice is worth a thousand words, but he won't cry, he will only sleep soundly with your name on his pillow.