Coming from the antique Book of Songs,
"Green and green, leisurely my heart"
Just like the banks of the Yellow River for thousands of years, the original song,
That's like the March nutmeg singing moths
Like the bright moon in spring, printed in autumn water
Flowing to Jiangnan in Song Dynasty
Like the book of songs by the pillow
Accompany the night to Leon Lai Ming
Accompany youth to twilight
Accompany rivers and mountains
With the heartbeat of a poem
Cut the softest place in your heart
Bright eyes and white teeth, pink peach noodles,
let a person remember
"Peach blossoms on human faces set each other off"
"were like a rain in spring on the blossom of the pear"
"Sneaking into the night with the wind, moistening things silently"
Mom, your love can't be compared with anything!
Remember I learned from innocent and lively children,
Grow into a carefree teenager.
When I was sick,
You keep talking to me about happy things,
Makes me forget.
When I won the prize,
You keep praising me,
Make me continue to work hard.
When I got good grades,
You keep encouraging me,
Make me make persistent efforts.
I know how tired you are.
Let me hammer your back,
Let me wash your feet.
Let me write a poem for you.
I wish you a happy March 8th Festival!
I look like a wounded bird
Comb the feathers
Waiting for recovery
The wound has healed
Healing is just around the corner
A light sigh of relief in my heart
I opened the calendar
Find out which day is a women's holiday
It seems that the day when I found i query, I also walked slowly with the wound
International Women's Day,
It's a household name.
Rich life is shared,
Great power never fails.
Being kind and close to friends and relatives,
Important high realm of people's livelihood.
Joy promotes prosperity,
Cheerful and inspiring everything.
A river of youth suddenly rushes away
Mom! I stopped by a blue sky, and my bike leaned against the sun
Underwater blue sky and deep water: boundless clouds
Wandering clouds everywhere at this moment
The flowers in my life burst into full bloom
This is the messy beauty everywhere! I drank the waves, and the wheels rolled away on my bike
I'm far, far
The rest of my body is next to a large endless surge of blue
The rest of my poems record life, blooming the flowers that hit me-
I am left with green mountains and green waters, living and working
The rest of me lives with my mother's poems
Living, melancholy, singing and full of hope
Dedicated to mother
Sitting quietly on a flower has been integrated with books.
Books open countless indifferent, black eyes 111 because of her concentration
How beautiful and quiet! Those years
I grew up healthily by tasting this scene. She read softly and made waves in the air
Smell the homesick sea!
The posture of bending over makes the sun bend on the ground;
Such white hair makes every winter pure and beautiful.
Old mother! Read for a long time! Sitting quietly on the chill of early spring
The waves cover my years.
I wrote a magnificent poem when I was a student heading for the sea
Waiting for your reading!