游子吟
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。
The Song of A Wandering Son
Threads in the hands of a fond mother
Clothes on her wandering son
Upon his departure, she sews it with fine stitches
For fear that his return will be postponed
Who says the heart of tiny grass
Can repay the spring sunshine
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