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A Poem by a Travelling Son - 游子吟

(2007-01-16 08:27:25) 下一个

                    by Jiao Meng
In the hands of my dear kindly mother,
will the thread for sewing be nervine?
Without knowing when I will come back home,
she has been sewing my clothes carefully and fine.
How can I repay what my mother has done for me,
which is the same as what grass owes the spring sunshine?


[原诗]: 游子吟
            唐.孟郊

慈母手中线,
游子身上衣。
临行密密缝,
意恐迟迟归。
谁言寸草心,
报得三春晖?


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