Tagore's poem to his mother

"Mom" I don't remember my mother just playing in the middle. Sometimes there seems to be a tune spinning on my toy. She shook my cradle and hummed those songs. I don't remember my mother, but in the early autumn morning, the fragrance of acacia flowers floated in the air, and the morning prayers in the temple seemed to blow away my mother's breath. I don't remember my mother, but when I looked at the blue sky in the distance from the bedroom window, I felt my mother holding my eyes. If I become a golden flower, for fun, I will grow on a tall branch, swing in the air with a smile and dance on new leaves. Mom, will you 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 you take a shower, put your wet hair on your shoulders, walk through the golden flowers shaded by green trees, and walk to the yard where you pray, you will smell the flowers, but you don't know that the fragrance comes from me. When you sit at the window and read Ramayana after lunch, the shadow of that tree falls on your hair and knees, and I will cast my little shadow on your page, where you are reading. But can you guess that this is a small shadow of your child? When you go to the cowshed with a lamp at dusk, I will suddenly fall to the ground again and become 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. Acura mother's motto and saying: maternal love is a huge flame. -romain rolland (France) Motherly love never dries up. -Sue Motherly 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 anxiously. 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.