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 thread in the hands of a fond-hearted mother
Makes clothes for the body of her wayward boy;
Carefully she sews and thoroughly she mends,
Dreading the delays that will keep him late from home.
But how much love has the inch-long grass
For three spring months of the light of the sun?
