Qiu Yi wrote an article about the harm of Haizi s death to his mother, which was published in a cert

To live well is to love.

Li Xiao. In the early morning of March 26, 21 years ago, a young man was lying on the tracks of Shanhaiguan when a roaring train ran over the body of a Chinese idyllic poet. That day happened to be his 25th birthday.

This man is Haizi who wrote "Facing the Sea, Spring Blossoms".

A young life is lost in this season of spring. Spring is a beautiful season of vitality, but Haizi is gone, walking in this season of spring flowers.

However, this child, whose original name was Cha Haisheng, would not have known in the other world that on the morning of his birthday, his mother had already boiled a pot of red rice porridge in the smoke of the cooking in the countryside, and silently blessed her son in a foreign land in such a traditional way.

In that rain-dripping village in March, the ashes of this man named Zha Haisheng were sent to Chawan Village, where his mother lived, and a grave was erected under the woods more than 300 meters in front of the house.

Since then, the mother's eyes have never taken off her son's grave for a single day. It is the mother's soul that accompanies her son to sleep. In the wind and rain in the countryside for 20 years, the mother cried for her son Haisheng, crying and breaking his eyes.

When Haisheng was 15 years old, he was admitted to Peking University, a village was boiling, a county town was also a sensation, and his mother went door-to-door to deliver her steamed white cakes late at night. After graduating, this son became a poet in Beijing. The first time I went to Beijing and saw my son with such long hair, my mother just smiled and said:

Haisheng, go cut it! On the day his mother left, the poor poet borrowed 300 yuan and put it in his mother's bag. The mother's bag contains fifty eggs for the family, and the mother raises a flock of chickens for her son in the countryside.

After a few days and nights of turbulence, when I arrived in Beijing, none of them broke. The mother kept the cloth bag full of eggs in her arms, because she believed that every time her son ate an egg, the son called the poet, his pale face would become a little more ruddy.

The 300 yuan that her son stuffed into her, I heard, is still in the arms of her 80-year-old mother. The mother said that when she died, it would be enough to send her on the road with her son's 300 yuan.

After Haizi committed suicide, many people exclaimed that this was the fall of a comet; Some people even sighed that his poetry was thunder. However, in the eyes of the mother, there was no comet at all, only a life connected to her heart, and there was no thunderous sound in the mother's ears, and in the ears, only the cry of a child in a dream. A country can be without a poet, and a mother cannot afford to lose a child at all.

Haizi, he did not write the most painful poem into the land of his ode, but embedded it in the blood and heart of a mother's pain.

Therefore, I always feel that remembering such a poet in the spring is actually a kind of cruelty to my mother. The vast sky, how does it express deep love and gentle murmurs to the vast earth? I think it's dense, light rain and rain.

So, how does a child express his deepest love for his mother? I think there is only one answer, to live well, and that is to love your mother.

After Haizi's death, his mother buried his ashes under a locust tree 300 meters in front of his house, and his mother sat on the threshold of her house, facing the sunrise and sunset of his beloved son! Haizi, you ** know that your departure may be a relief for yourself, but at the same time, it drains your mother's hard work.

Do you want Haizi to write a poem to his mother or...