1. A fetus in the tenth month of the lunar month is more kind than a child, but the repayment in the third life is light. A one-foot-three-inch baby has ten and eight years of merit. The mother says that the child is sleeping when it is dry, and the child is sleeping when the mother is wet. The mother suffers and the child is not seen, the child is tired and the mother is uneasy. My mother is one hundred years old and she often reads her eighty children. The prodigal son does not feel cold when his loving mother is present. "Song of Encouraging Filial Piety"

2. The thread in the hands of a loving mother, and the clothes on the body of a wanderer. Before leaving, I was afraid of returning late. Whoever speaks of an inch of grass will be rewarded with three rays of spring light. "The Wandering Son" by Meng Jiao of the Tang Dynasty

3. Stopping and looking around, I became a prisoner of Chu. Sentiment arose from it, and tears choked my throat. My loving mother is seriously ill and wants to see a famous doctor. I'm in a hurry to pick up my car, but the sky won't spare me! If there is nothing to repay for maternal love, what more can you ask for in life! Li Shangyin's "Sending Mother Back to Hometown"

4. Leaving behind the curtains to say goodbye to my mother and going to Heliang, I will be worried for nothing and my eyes will dry up with tears. It was a miserable snowy night in Chaimen, and having children at this time was worse than having none. "Farewell Old Mother"

5. My love for my son is endless, and I will be happy to return home. The cold clothes are densely stitched, and the letters home are freshly inked. When I met, I felt pity for my thin body, and I called my son to ask about my hardships. I feel ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh in the dust. Jiang Shiquan's "Arriving Home at the End of the Year"

6. When Si'er is a young child, he flies high and carries his mother on his back. My parents thought about it then, but you should know it today. Bai Juyi's "The Poems of Yan Revealed to Liu Sou"

7. The white-headed old mother covered the door and cried, and rolled up the broken sleeves of her shirt. Selections from "Whose Son" by Han Yu

8. The mother went up to Han ditch, leaving Bai Han at home. When the moon comes out and Du Yu is heard, the north and the south are always concerned. Wang Anshi's "Fifteen"

9. Clothes are wet with tears of reed flowers due to frost, and the old man no longer leans on the wood door. During the yellow plum rain last May, Zeng Dian returned home from shopping for rice. "Missing Mother" by Yu Gong