What poems are there to commemorate mother?

1, pregnant at the pillow (late Yuan Dynasty and early Ming Dynasty) Wang Yi

In the cold weather, the traveler's clothes list, the dream around the home forest until midnight.

I think I miss my son. I lean against the door and look back at the saddle every day.

It's cold and my wandering wanderer has lost weight. I can't sleep well every day these days, and I dream about my hometown all night. I think: it should be my parents. You are always thinking about my long-distance son, leaning against the door every day and expecting me to go home early.

2. Remembering Mother (Ming) Zhang Ning

A loving mother died for seven years, and an idiot is still alive.

There is no bright moon in the end of the world, and there is nothing to the north of the hall.

Empty rooms are scattered, and wild gardens are poor.

People's lifelong efforts, the farther away they are, the more sad they are.

My mother has been dead for seven years, and now I'm still alone. When I see the moon far away from home, I always think of my hometown and my mother, but my mother, who is as warm as spring, can never expect my return.

In the past, my mother raised a lot of chickens and planted a lot of wild vegetables, but after my mother died, no one took care of it anymore. The yard was deserted and the countryside was deserted. Mom, the years have passed and my son has grown up. Your hard work and hard work over the past few days have made your children feel more and more empathetic and ashamed of you.

3. Remembering Mother (Qing) Shen Shouhong

Poverty is a Confucian thing, and it is difficult to settle down as an old relative.

If you pity a hacker from a distance, you will become an inclined person.

The night scene is lonely and black, and the white hair is new.

What are the advantages of having a boy? Just tired and hard.

Poverty is an inevitable situation for me as a Confucian, but I think it is not easy to drag my mother into a bitter life with me. When you were alive, you were always worried about your son's difficulties in making a living and supporting his family. You always hoped that his son would go home when he was tired.

Every night, you will always spin and weave under the dim yellow solitary lamp at home. When I get up early to comb my hair, I often find myself growing new white hair because of hard work. Now that I think about it, what benefits did you get from giving birth to me and raising me? You've worked hard for most of your life and endured humiliation, just wasting your time!