What are the ancient poems praising mother?

1, Meng Jiao's Wanderer in Tang Dynasty.

Original text:

The mother used the needle and thread in her hand to make clothes for her long-distance son.

Before leaving, I had a stitch for fear that my son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged.

Who can say that a filial child like the weak can repay his mother's love like the sunshine in spring?

Translation:

A loving mother makes clothes for her long-distance son with a needle and thread in her hand.

Before leaving, he sewed a needle tightly for fear that his son would come back late and his clothes would be damaged.

Who can say that a child's filial piety as weak as grass can repay the kindness of such a loving mother as Chunhui Puze? ?

2. The Zhou Dynasty's anonymous "Guofeng Li Feng Kai Feng"

Original text:

The wind blew from the south, blowing his spine. I want to die, and my mother has a reward.

The wind blows from the south, and the wind blows from the other side. God, I have no family.

Is there any cold in the spring? Under Xun. With seven children, my mother is very hard.

The yellow bird, with its voice. There are seven children, don't comfort your mother.

Translation:

The breeze is blowing from the south, blowing on the buds of jujube trees. Jujube trees are tender and strong, and mothers are busy raising children.

The south wind is warm, and jujube trees grow into firewood. The mother is reasonable and kind, and she doesn't blame her if her son is not good.

Cold spring water is cool, and the source is next to Junyi. The mother raised seven children, and the son grew into a tired mother.

The yellowbird is singing euphemistically. It's so beautiful and noisy. It is difficult to comfort a mother who has raised seven children.

3. The Spring of Chang 'an was anonymous in the pre-Qin period.

Original text:

Polygonum hydropiper and Folium Artemisiae Argyi; Mourn for my parents and give birth to me.

I'm a loser. I'm a robber. Mourn for my parents and give birth to me.

It is a pity that the bottle is used up. A fresh life is better than a long death! What if there is no father? What can I do without my mother? Get a shirt when you go out, and you're exhausted when you go in.

My father gave birth to me and my mother bowed to me. Spoil me, cultivate me, nurture me, care about me, go in and out. The virtue of wanting to repay kindness. Heaven is so chaotic!

Nanshan is fierce and the wind is blowing. No one is unhappy, but I am very sad.

Nanshan method, drifting with the wind. People are like me, I'm not alone!

Translation:

Is that tall plant mugwort? So it's not Artemisia annua, it's useless Artemisia annua. My poor parents worked hard to raise me!

Is that tall plant mugwort? Not Artemisia ordosica, it's useless Artemisia ordosica. My poor parents, they raised me from overwork!

The small bottle of wine is empty, which is a disgrace to the altar. People who have lost their parents are better off dying early than living in the world. Who can I rely on without my father? Who can I rely on without my mother? Go out, feel sad, step into the house, as if I didn't go home.

My parents gave birth to me and raised me. You caress me, let me grow, nurture me, take care of me, shelter me, take care of me in and out. I want to repay your kindness, as if heaven is endless.

Nanshan is high and the wind is fierce. Everyone else has a chance to raise their parents. Why am I the only one suffering from this scourge?

Nanshan is high and the wind is fierce. Everyone else has the opportunity to raise their parents, but I can't die with my adoptive parents.

4. Bai Juyi's "Yan Shi Xian Liu Sao" in the Tang Dynasty.

Original text:

There is Shuang Yan on the beam, a male and a female. Between two rafters, a nest gave birth to Si Er.

Si Er is a long day and night, and the voice of asking for food is diligent. Caterpillar is not easy to catch, and the yellow mouth has no heyday.

Paws are eager for us, but they are not tired. For a moment, I was afraid of hunger in my nest.

After 30 days of hard work, mom's skinny chicken is getting fatter and fatter. Muttering, brushing sweaters one by one.

Translation:

A Shuang Yanzi, a male and a female are dancing on the roof. Mud nest in the middle of the rafters, a nest gave birth to four little swallows.

Four milk swallows grow day and night, and the crying of begging can't stop. Caterpillar is not easy to catch, Xiaoyan seems to have never had enough to eat.

Shuang Yan grabbed it with his paws, held it in his mouth, and worked tirelessly with all his strength. After a while, I turned back and forth ten times, afraid of starving Xiaoyan in the nest.

After thirty days of hard work, I lost my mother swallow and fattened Xiaoyan. Muttered and kept teaching Xiaoyan pronunciation, combing one by one.

5. Going Home at the End of the Year by Jiang Shiquan in Qing Dynasty.

Original text:

I love my son endlessly, and I'm glad to go home. Cold clothes are needle and thread, and letters from home are ink stains.

If you encounter pity, you will ask for it. I am ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh.

Translation:

There is no end to loving your son, and the happiest thing is that the wanderer returns in time. The stitches for sewing the cold clothes are dense, and the handwriting and ink on the family letter are as new as new.

Seeing that my son has lost weight, my mother felt distressed and called me to ask about the difficulty of the journey. Mom, my son has always been ashamed of you. He won't have the heart to tell the story of his wandering.