1, paper boat
-Send it to mom.
backbone
I never refuse to throw away a piece of paper,
Save it forever.-Save it,
Folding into a very small 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 am still not discouraged, folding 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.
Wanshui Qian Shan, please bring her love and sorrow home.
2. "Like"
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 tunes you 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
Mother stared at me.
Filled the whole sky
3. Poems for Mother
backbone
Mom, for a long time
I just want to write a poem for you.
But I wrote it many times.
I haven't written it yet
Mom, I wrote this poem for you.
I don't know how to start.
I don't know how to end it.
I don't know what to write.
It's like slapping you hard when you were a child.
I don't know whether to accept it bravely.
Or should I choose to escape?
Mom, I thought of you again tonight.
I decided to write a poem for you.
Even if it's not well written
Even if you are far from home.
Never read ...
Mom, if you see a small white boat in your dream,
Don't be surprised that he dreams for no reason.
This was folded by your beloved daughter in tears.
Wan Shui Qian Shan begged him to take her love and sorrow home.
4. Ah, Mom
Shu Ting
Your pale fingertips touch my temple,
I can't help acting like a child.
Hold on to your skirt.
Ah, mom,
In order to keep your aging figure,
Although the morning light cuts dreams into smoke,
I still dare not open my eyes for a long time.
I still cherish that bright red scarf,
Afraid that cleaning will make it
Lose your unique warmth.
Ah, mom,
Isn't the running water of the years just as ruthless?
I'm afraid my memory will disappear,
How dare I open its screen easily?
I cried out to you for a thorn,
Now that I'm wearing a police uniform, I dare not,
I dare not moan.
Ah, mom,
I often look up at your photos sadly,
Even if the call can penetrate the loess,
How dare I disturb your sleep?
I dare not show the gift of love like this,
Although I have written many songs.
For flowers, for the sea, for the dawn.
Ah, mom,
My sweet, soft and deep memory,
Not rapids, not waterfalls,
It is an ancient well that can't sing among flowers and trees.