In classical Chinese poetry, there is one that praises his father

Guan Ciwu feeds back.

There are birds and birds named Ciwu, and the group of children are dumb and dumb and compete with each other.

Feather Fu brainstormed and fed back to repay his parents' kindness.

Minyi Tianli has been declining for a long time, and hearing this liver and gallbladder is Zhaosu.

How can poultry and insects know the righteousness, and the black sex is filial piety from Zhongfu.

The roe hatchlings are cracked, and the shrike chicks have been cut off.

All creatures in heaven and earth are benevolent, and there is a huge disparity between good and evil.

The filial son of the poultry is Erwu, and the rebel son in the world is the second chick.

Parents love their children very much, and their children's hearts can be like their parents' nothing.

Who is really empty in life, and sighs for the feeling of things.

Sighing is not enough for the sun and twilight, and the old black hugs the chick and stays in the night tree.

Everyone in the world knows that the gods are good, only the children and grandchildren can't forget!

There are many infatuated parents in ancient times, who has seen filial piety to their children and grandchildren?

Silver bottle at the bottom of the well.

There is also family affection all over the hometown.

The pheasant flying deer is far away from the grass, and the chicken in the cow lane is oblique in spring.

The old father of the beautiful eyebrows is on the bottle of wine, and the daughter of the daughter of the sleeve is a hairpin with wild flowers.

The car remembers the dust meter, and the melancholy book the fine sand by the stream.

Guan Ciwu feeds back.

Shangshan Majian silver bottle at the bottom of the well.

1, "Father".

Father's way. Tell me.

Erected heart monument.

will be a signpost on the way forward.

this road. It's going on in my life.

Ordinary father.

There are no carols. There is no feat.

Only stories that I miss.

I should have a courageous faith.

Stride forward. Will be the father's way.

Stretch for a glorious tomorrow.

2, "Father's Love".

Father is a river, flowing through the years, telling the vicissitudes of the world;

Father is a piece of the sea, lifting the sun and flying the wings of the sky;

Father is a mountain, tough and strong, standing up for the fragrance of the earth;

Father's love is like a mountain, deep and powerful, sheltering me from the storm;

Father's love is like water, silent and gentle, smoothing the scars in my heart;

Father's love is like the sun, warm and brilliant, illuminating the darkest corner of my soul for me;

Father's love is like the moon, unheard and elegant, even in the most gloomy days, it can give me the light I hope.

Father's love is like a song, melodious and heavy, giving me the motivation to live;

Father's love is like the sea, broad and open, and accommodates my countless mistakes.

3, "Father".

Hands on the railings of the city.

Look at your hometown. Scented earth.

I think of my father, who walked on the dirt a thousand mountains away.

My father at that time.

Walk like the wind. Changing the posture of various hoes.

Together with farm implements.

Close to the dirt. Love the dirt.

Kiss us.

Roll through the fields of March in high spirits.

In those days.

I'm not too rich in poetry.

Grow in the fields.

Section by verse. Over the top of his father's head.

Stand like your father.

It was my father's wish for me for many years.

I have been away from home for many years.

A hunchbacked figure.

Vividly. Hand in hand with a shiny scythe.

Standing in September. Standing on the golden ridges of September. Blessing.

Here are some poems that praise fathers::

1, "Mourning Spring" (Five Uniques).

The spring rhyme enters the garden, but the kindness is strict but the voyage is far away. Who will protect the remnant red, and ask the wine to the sunset.

2, "Farewell Father".

The breeze and rain are all in the rain, and it is the new scenery in the world. I know that Heaven has issued an edict, and the immortal banner is my father's soul.

3, "Thinking of the Father" (Seven Uniques).

If you want to green mountains and start your father, it is difficult to say goodbye to the family affection of the prosperous world. From now on, I will slow down and revisit the night, and goodbye to the sound and the dream of a few changes.

4, "Thinking of the Father" (Seven Uniques).

The spring thunder is vigorous, and it is difficult to believe in the Nine Realms of Mercy and Strictness. When to plough the land again, the third watch dreamed of silent tears.

5, "Thinking of Father" (Seven Uniques).

Drunk with wind and rain, drunk and thinking of relatives, it is difficult to be filial and want to break the soul. It's a pity that the nostalgia is understandable, and a few times the dream is endowed with Xinghua Village.

6, "Yongmei" (Seven Uniques).

Who appreciates the beautiful plum and proud snow, and the harsh winter falls nine fangs. The years are traceless and often reminiscent of the old, and the cold wind is long.

7, "Homesickness" (Seven Uniques).

The breeze is drizzling and autumn is cool, and the pipa is still hurting the candle. I only hate family affection and have nowhere to complain, so I ask you when you will go to Chiyang.

8, "Seven Memories of the Father" (new rhyme).

I often think about my father's inauguration, and quit drinking and smoking for the sake of the tree. Leave any body lightly, and go home and feel sweet.

9, "Remembering the Birth of the King's Sun".

The dead branches are still borrowing spring green, and the tender grass is fragrant. Du Yuming surrounded the clouds and smoke, crying the dead, and the incense candles were swaying without responding.

10, "Thinking of Father" (new rhyme).

In the world, Yang Hua is drunk in May, and he thinks of his father every year. It seems that the snow has disappeared all its life, and the flowers that love flowers for half a lifetime are scattered.

Mourn my parents, give birth to me, and work hard. The Book of Songs

What is it like to have no father, and what is it necessary to be without a mother? The Book of Songs

The virtue of the father, the inheritance of the son. The word is strict, and the parents are high; Good education for children. Aphoristic Couplet

Don't be happy if you have a child, don't sigh if you don't have a child. Tang Hanyu.

People see that it is good to give birth to boys and girls, but they don't know that men and women urge people to grow old. Tang Wang built the world's all-in-one parents; The rarest brother in the world. "Aphorisms".

Being a parent is the best in the world; As a child, the world is filial piety. "Aphorisms".

My father gave birth to me, my mother bowed to me, caressed me, raised me, raised me, cared for me, and restored me. The Book of Songs

If the father is not kind, the son is not filial; If the brother is not a friend, the brother is disrespectful; If the husband is unjust, the woman will not be obedient. The North and the South are pushing Yan.

There are no virtuous fathers and brothers in life, there are no strict teachers and friends outside, and there are few successful people. Song Lu Gong wrote what his parents wanted, and I will continue to describe it; What my parents recount, I love. "Aphorisms".

My father was a poet, My father was his manuscript paper, The hoe was the pen he worked on, The green lines were the most beautiful verses, The beads of sweat on my back were punctuated Father's poems were published on the front page of the granary after being reviewed by the sun.

Father's ballad [Hu Bingyan].

The son is cong and the father is wide, the son is happy and the father is at ease, the son is rich and the father is intoxicated, and the son is sad and sad.

The son cries and the father is soft-hearted. The son is strong and the father's heart is strong, the son is loose and the father is relieved, and the son is difficult to be father's heart.

Zi Rui's father's heart, Zi Qin's father's heart is happy, Zi Fall's father's heart is broken, Zi Lazy Father's heart is cold.

The father is tired and the son is not pity, the father is cold and the son is not warm, the father is sick and the son is not seen, and the father and the orphan son are not noisy.

The father and the son are not dusted, the father is not dusted, the father is hungry and the son is not asked, and the father and the son are letters.

The father is poor and the son turns his face, the father and the son finish picking out the money, the father turns against the son, and the father and the son don't care.

The father loves the son, the son has two eyes for the father, the twenty-four filial sons need to read, and the filial piety of the loving father is the first.

Chunxuan Hu Bingyan.

The temples are frosty, the hair is gray, and the back is bent.

Sitting in a cold courtyard, sad and lonely, ragged, lonely and lonely.

The dust and dirt are on the ground, and the heart is a leaf, sailing towards the cold autumn and the cold moon.

The world turns, year after year, fishing is free.

Lantian planted Dan seedlings, and the province Baishan respected the hair.

Mountains and rivers depend on each other, spit sweet and bitter, go back to dry and wet, and do not worry about hard work.

Compassion is deep, washing is not clean, and the teachings are earnestly and righteous.

As a son of man, he is extremely good and has no filial piety, and he is respectful to the sunset.

Father's ballad [Hu Bingyan].

The son is cong and the father is wide, the son is happy and the father is at ease, the son is rich and the father is intoxicated, and the son is sad and sad.

The son cries that the father's heart is soft, the son strengthens the father's heart, the son's heart is relaxed, and the son's father is worried.

Zi Rui's father's heart, Zi Qin's father's heart is happy, Zi Fall's father's heart is broken, Zi Lazy Father's heart is cold.

The father is tired and the son is not pity, the father is cold and the son is not warm, the father is sick and the son is not seen, and the father and the orphan son are not noisy.

The father and the son are not dusted, the father is not dusted, the father is hungry and the son is not asked, and the father and the son are letters.

The father is poor and the son turns his face, the father and the son finish picking out the money, the father turns against the son, and the father and the son don't care.

The father loves the son, the son has two eyes for the father, the twenty-four filial sons need to read, and the filial piety of the loving father is the first.

Sixty-eight years of hardship, the dragon and snake dance is unwritten. Idle books should have lifelong dreams, and it is difficult for piccolos to blow half the world. Who cultivates plum trees in the West Garden? In exchange for Twilight to watch the flowing clouds. The pen and ink on the desk are still the same, and two catties of liquor are hung in front of the door.

On the summer solstice, relatives are separated, and the sad rain spreads sad news. The jade plate is still in hand, where can I find the nectar? The night is cold, people don't sleep, tossing and turning. Fuqin's face is kind, and Wen Zhong's thoughts are far away. Stargazing is like seeing a father, accompanying a wandering son.

In the past, among the flowers, the cranes and children's words were played. The knee has not returned in time, and the hatred of the heavens is not a holiday.

Floating lonely geese flying alone, clouds agitating, what's the matter? A few winds and rains, a few degrees to see the sunset. Old people sit idle and talk about the vicissitudes of life, often look north, and read Huaiyang.

Who would have expected that the evening scene would gradually decline, the country would not be raised, and the illness would be injured. When the rebel son leaves home, where can he complain? When the days are the longest of the year, the people are dead, and the rain is raging.

After the rain, the stream swept the embankment flat, and watched the village children's evening love. The bamboo horse Langqiang washed away, and the paper kite roared in the wind.

Sandong temporarily studied Confucianism, and Qianlong still cultivated from his father. Literacy is good for servitude, and there is no need to work hard to make a name for yourself.