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Modern poems in praise of mothers:
1, "Paper Boat" - Send Mother Bingxin 2, "Poems to Mother" Bingxin 3, "Mother" Shu Ting 4, "Mother" Love 5, "To My Mother" Goethe 6, "Dedicated to Mother Ben Heine" Heine 7, "The Wanderer" 8, "Mother's Poems" nine pieces.
There is a kind of love that does not ask for anything in return for a lifetime - maternal love ; There is a man who deserves my love for the rest of his life - Mother, you once held up a blue sky for me with your strong arms; Now, I will shield you from the wind and rain with my growing wings.
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A modern poem in praise of the mother, which reads as follows:Mother is a big ship, carrying me to the sea, to pursue the mystery of life, to explore the wonders of the world, mother is a high mountain, containing all things, feeding me to grow, strengthening my body and mind; Mother is a moving song, take me to travel all over the world, with her beautiful tune, singing the history of the motherland, mother is a spring breeze, blowing all things in the world, Yingying steps, bringing vitality. Yes!
Mother, I love you, you are the most loved person in my heart forever.
Mother is as humble as moss, solemn as the morning light, soft as the sound of water in the south of the Yangtze River, as hard as a thousand years of cold jade, when she raises her eyes, she is the bright moon, when she hangs her head, she is reckless earth.
I never gave up a piece of paper, but always kept it, kept it, folded it into a very small boat, and threw it out of the boat and into the sea. Some were swept into the windows of the boat by the wind of the weather, and some were wet by the waves and stuck to the bow of the boat. I still don't lose heart and stack it every day, always hoping that there will be a surplus of companions who can only flow to where I want it to go.
Mother, if you see a very small white boat in your dreams, don't be surprised that it falls asleep for no reason. This is your beloved daughter with tears in her eyes, carrying thousands of rivers and mountains, begging it to carry her love and sorrow back.
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Modern poems in praise of mothers:
1, "Paper Boat Shouting Branches" - Tanchai sent his mother Bingxin 2, "Poems to Mother Zheng Xinmin" Bingxin 3, "Mother" Shu Ting 4, "Mother" Love 5, "To My Mother" Goethe 6, "Dedicated to Mother Ben Heine" Heine 7, "The Wanderer" 8, "Mother's Poems" nine pieces.
There is a kind of love that does not ask for anything in return for a lifetime - maternal love ; There is a man who deserves my love for the rest of his life - Mother, you once held up a blue sky for me with your strong arms; Now, I will shield you from the wind and rain with my growing wings.
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Here are some of the modern poems that praise mothers:
1, "Poems to Mother" - Bingxin.
2, "Paper Boat" - Bing Xin.
3, "Mother" - Shu Ting.
4, "Mother" - Love.
5. "To My Mother" - Goethe.
6, "Dedicated to Mother Ben Heine" - Gao Ru - Heine.
7, "Dayan River - My Nanny" Yuqiao - Ai Qing.
8, "The Wanderer's Yin" - Meng Jiao.
9, "Golden Flower" - Tagore.
10, "White Jade Bitter Gourd" - in the afterglow.
Modern verses in praise of mothers:1. I am ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh for the dust.
2, the father and mother can't be slapped, but the stupid laughter is embarrassing.
3. When I came, my parents knew that they were in the next life, and they wore heavy clothes as if they were going to die.
4. People see that men and women are good, but they don't know that men and women urge people to grow old.
5. Bow to the mother river beam, and look at the tears in the white hair. The miserable snowy night in Chaimen, at this time, it is better to have a son than nothing.
6. Sier is the day of the chick, and when he flies high and carries his mother. Parents read it at that time, and you should know it today.
7, frost reed flower tears wet clothes, white head without leaning on the firewood. In the Huangmei rain in May last year, Zeng pawned the robe and returned to the rice.
8. When the town is virtuous, he returns to the mirror and reports to the Buddha lamp.
9, the mother is not the son, the son is not the mother, and the crying is bitter without light.
10, bow to the mother river beam, white hair and tears dry.
a) Huang He, my mother.
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