Author: 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 fading figure
Although the morning light has cut the dream 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 the memory will fade, too.
How dare I open its screen easily?
I cried to you for a thorn.
Now I'm wearing a Jing Guan, and 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 sacrifice 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 a torrent, not a waterfall.
It's a dry well, and it can't sing under the shade of flowers and trees.
■ Paper Boat-Ice Heart
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 still fold every day and never give up.
I always hope that a person can only flow where I want him to go.
Mom, if you see a very small 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.
Drying old clothes-(Qing) Zhou Shouchang
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.
■ Poems for Mother
Author: Bing Xin
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.
Source raven com