Every time I look at the fields of wheat,
Always think mother calloused palms.
I saw the smoke,
In the wind, always drift mother cooked rice incense.
Now, when I carry my bags on my back,
Never see you again
Mother looked around reluctantly.
When I wander in the night, with the shadow in pairs,
Where can I find my mother's warm eyes?
My dream again and again on sorghum,
Stand and stare, looking back,
Even if keep a mother vague figure,
I wish I had a dream every night.
Heaven on earth,
The road is far away and the longing is long,
If not, don't forget,
A mother's love, always weiyang.
Today, I spread my mother's knitting clothes,
Open an old door and window,
Think of the dream outside of the faint thoughts,
Hanging gently above the moon.
Tonight, not romantic, complaints from the war,
I just want to carpet the fallen leaves,
Scent the flowers of May,
Spread where mom had walked,
Then, quietly waiting for mom's footsteps,
Again on the way home, one riding ring.
相关内容：
