Motherly love is the cradle.
Mother hummed nursery rhymes.
Shake it, shake it.
I rocked to Waipo Bridge.
When I grow up
Maternal love is a bowl.
Hot egg noodles
And a new cotton-padded coat.
There is heat in my heart
Body warmth
afterwards
Maternal love is some trivial nagging.
There are thousands of instructions before leaving.
Son, it's good to be at home. It's always difficult to go out.
It's not good to be outside. I miss home.
Just come back early.
Now
Motherly love is the telephone in your hand.
There are also long telephone lines that are pulled.
Home phone number
Wanderers dial their hearts every night.