Mom didn't know that people would look up and make people happy. Having five fingers can also be exciting. Running around telling everyone that it is worthwhile to say the word "Oh" from a person's mouth-but you hold your mother's hand and lead her through the void of existence to rediscover the miracle of life. Now, my mother is stunned by the light of this miracle. My mother only hopes that you can always be patient with her, and that you will never let go of holding her hand, no matter rain or shine, no matter how things change.
Little cuckoo, may you grow up slowly.
May you have good luck, if not, may you learn compassion in misfortune.
May you be loved by many people, if not, may you learn to be tolerant in loneliness.
May you wake up naturally every day of your life.
Yu Guangzhong-Poems for Future Children
Son,
I hope you are an idealist from beginning to end.
You can be a farmer or an engineer.
Can be an actor, can be a tramp,
But you must be an idealist.
When we were young, we told you heroic stories.
You don't have to be a hero,
I hope you have a pure character.
Teenagers, we expose you to poetry, painting, music,
Is to fill your mind with noble interests.
These noble interests will support your life,
Let you never forget the fragrance of roses in the harshest winter.
Ideals will make people outstanding.
Don't worry about your appearance, son.
Ideal purifies your temperament,
And the most beautiful woman will be boring because of vulgarity.
The road to the ideal is often unsatisfactory.
You will pay for this.
But, my child,
You just do it,
The idealist's ending is tragic and never pitiful.
In a seemingly bumpy life,
You will meet many wise men and gentlemen,
You will see many landscapes and wonders that others can't meet.
Although it is safe to choose mediocrity,
But there is no color.
Don't give up your ideal for petty gain.
Don't change your beliefs for a certain trend.
The physical world is too complicated,
You should know how to resist the temptation of vanity.
Ideal is not something you can afford,
It often can't bring you earthly enjoyment.
So you have to get used to not being appreciated,
Learn to enjoy the spirit,
Learn to be different from others.
Love yourself and others,
Know yourself and others.
Your heart should be as soft as a stream,
Your eyes should be as bright as spring.
If you cry,
Will listen to sad music alone in the dark.
You should know how to appreciate tragedy,
Tragedy can enrich your mind.
Xi Murong.-My daughter.
My daughter just sent me a poem. I'll read it to you. The title is "Mother's Hand".
When I was a baby—
Mom's hand is a master at making milk.
I always shout, "milk, milk."
When I was a teenager-
Mom is an expert at cooking lunch.
I always shout,' Mom, what's for lunch?'
When I was young-