"Stars" written by Bing Xin Mother, the wind and rain in the sky are coming; the bird is hiding in its nest; the wind and rain in my heart is coming, and I am hiding in my mother's arms. The corn is ripe. Mother ants crawl over every grain of corn - it is mother's finger. Corn yellow becomes a poem. Mother is a poet who chants in pain. The season of reincarnation. The finished product of blood and sweat. The price is as high as the lifeline. Time and face have not carved the scenery outside the mountains. Mother is just smearing it silently. Primitive indifference and tranquility. When mother looks alone at the field, she is mostly thinking about mother. Mother is the best crop in the field. To be precise, it is a pear tree. In the days after father left, family affection is withering and yellowing in the stubble fields. Strange weeds are deserted. Homes are humid in the rainy season. One after another, the mother murmured in her dreams. She stood stubbornly in the garden, with her feet deeply embedded in the loess and wind and rain. Her thin body held a lifetime of sorrow. The years drove away the seasons and time, carving the annual rings. The autumn wind gently walked by and pinched away the mother's life. I am used to wandering around. Every time I come home and tell my mother about people and things far away, she always listens so carefully. She cannot bear to interrupt my words. Whenever this happens, my eyes are always filled with tears. My mother is shaking in the summer. I open your beautiful festival with my light fingers. The pride of women is fleeting. Our sons and daughters should be the fragrant jade bones of Yaotai. But the voice of blessing is slowly rippling in the boundless sea. You make me believe that life is pity and the faint spring fragrance is reflected by the sun and the moon. Qionglou bends her happy face towards the night, she is so happy that she lowers her eyebrows and stares at her mother, telling me not to forget to smile. But we lament the futility of seventeen-year-old love. We lament that those who fall into it leave behind wasted years that are broken and cannot be glued together. However, our fairy tales are constantly being written in my heart. No matter how beautiful the moonlight is in my mother's heart, the fairy tales of autumn can't help but bring a bit of desolation. Our account books are just memories. I'm glad that I can freeze my thoughts with words that my mother can't understand and let them go. I started to feel the life given by my mother with those hands and that face. I once tried to change the space of my longing, but at that time I was just hovering on the edge of love. Now I have learned to use my longing to close the distance and create motivation with my heart. Now my wish is to let my mother be like that. A pair of beautiful eyes opened with the happiest smile in a thousand years, allowing the string of snow-covered goodbyes to reappear, and the vow blocked by the door to revive. Mother, when the weather is cold, think of mother, mother is not afraid of the cold, mother is afraid of her children, winter is coming, mother Wearing thin clothes, we sew warm cotton clothes for our children. Mother’s hands are red, but mother’s lips are purple. Mother always says it’s not cold. Mother never goes near the stove. The children gather around the stove. Mother always surrounds her children when they were little. I don’t understand. Now that I have grown up, I know that mothers are really not afraid of the cold. They are only afraid of the coldness of their children. Who is it? My wandering footsteps are on the road to a foreign land, and your tears have begun to flow quietly. My journey has traveled to all corners of the world, and my heart will always be by your side. Mother, your tears are my sadness, your smile is my comfort, and your love is The warmest words make me strong, your arms are the biggest harbor, let me act coquettishly, I am your concern that cannot be left behind, you are the eternal attachment in my heart, mother - you are the hometown of my life, Shen Ye*Haoyue*Mother, the depth of night Boundlessly pouring over, drowning the hustle and bustle of youth, the brightness of the moon smeared the quiet earth, and the anxious dreams were somewhat soft and comfortable. Catching the shadow of the tree under the moonlight, I had a mottled drunken state. Any heart was soft. My heart is blown away by the gentle breeze, my soft heart is drifting away from the heavy dust of my memory, falling back to my mother and childhood peasant family, my mother’s joyful smile is blooming with kind joy, that’s because the wanderer from afar has returned. The mother's joyful and kind smile gradually spread in the sky and became the brightness of the moon that filled the sky and the earth. Accompanied by the depth of the night, in the "Fifteenth Day", King Anshi of the Song Dynasty sent his mother to Han ditch and left Bai Hanyin at home. When the moon comes out and Du Yu is heard, the north and the south are always concerned. 2. "Arrived Home at the End of the Year" by Jiang Shiquan of the Qing Dynasty. My love for my son is endless, and I am happy to return home. The cold clothes are densely stitched, and the letters home are freshly inked. When I met, I felt pity for my thin body, and I called my son to ask about my hardships. I feel ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh in the dust. 3. "Motherly Love" by Yang Weizhen of the Yuan Dynasty A loving mother who loves her young, Zhao Jiaguangyi is the crown prince. The steps of the dragon and the tiger change day by day, and the dog and the eagle follow each other in different directions. Isn't there a solitary child six feet below the knee? Ah Zhao and Amei are not crotches. The ghost lights are dim at night, and the heavy snow is falling. If all the officials do not hold Dong Hu’s pen, what will happen to the orphans and widowers? Suddenly, a silver pillar ax was poked on the ground in front of the bed, causing trouble for the books in the golden cabinet of King Han. 4. "Mo Xuan Tu" The Mian of the King of Yuan Dynasty. The bright day lily flowers grow under the north hall. The south wind blows his heart, shaking it for whom? A loving mother leans on her door with love, but a wanderer's journey is painful. The sweet taste is sparse every day, and the sound is blocked every day. Looking up at the cloud forest, I feel ashamed to hear the words of the wise bird. 5. "Dan Ge Xing" by Wang Jian of the Tang Dynasty When a man is born, the sun rises. Going up the mountain late, going down the mountain quickly. One hundred years and thirty-six thousand dynasties, the night will be strong for half a day. Singing and dancing must be done early. Yesterday is better than today. People think that men and women are good at birth, but they don't know that men and women make people grow old. Short song line, no music. "Sending Mother Back to Hometown" I parked my car and stared blankly, making me a prisoner of Chu. Sentiment arose from it, and tears choked my throat. My loving mother is seriously ill and wants to see a famous doctor.
I'm in a hurry to pick up my car, but the sky won't spare me! If there is nothing to repay for maternal love, what more can you ask for in life! Although I haven’t said hello to you or written to you for a long time, don’t let your doubts arise in your heart, as if the deep love your son should have for you has disappeared from my heart. It's definitely not like that, just like that rock, which has deep roots in the water for thousands of years. It will never leave its original place, even if the water is flowing, sometimes wind and waves, sometimes soft waves will flow over it, making people unable to see it. To it, my love for you is also inseparable from my heart, even though the long river of life is sometimes whipped by pain and rolls around violently, sometimes it is caressed quietly by joy, and is covered and blocked, making it I cannot show my face to the sun, I cannot reflect the sunshine all around, and show you in front of your loving mother how much your son admires you.