A Troubadour's Lament Sewing threads in my kind Mother's hand ， was shuttling through a coat for me a wayward boy . She sewed them before seeing me off neatly closed, for fearing that I might return much too lately . Oh , how can I believe a human being's gifts， can repay the blessings of the god in any way !
A thread is in my fond mother's hand moving. For her son to wear the clothes ere leaving. With her whole heart she's sewing and sewing. For fear I'll be roving and roving. Who says the little soul of grass waving. Could for the warmth repay the sun of spring.
• 冰心《纸船——寄母亲》 • • • • • • • • • • • • 我从不肯妄弃一张纸， 总是留着——留着 叠成一只只很小的船儿， 从舟上抛下在海里。 有的被天风吹卷到舟中的窗里， 有的被海浪打湿，沾在船头上。 我仍是不灰心的每天叠着， 总希望有一只能流到我要它到的地方去。 母亲，倘若你梦中看见一只很小的白船儿， 不要惊讶它无端入梦。 这是你至爱的女儿含着泪叠的，万水千山， 求它载着她的爱和悲哀归去。
游子吟 孟郊 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。
For Her Son Who’ll Be Away for a While
• Needle and thread in doting mother’s hand • Turn out garments for her son out to roam the land. • She puts in more stitches e’en as he leaves • And frets that his homecoming may be moved back. • Who says the tiny inch-tall blade of grass • Can e’er repay the warm sunshine of spring?
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冰心，原名谢婉莹，笔名冰心，取“一片冰心在玉壶” 之意。原籍福建福州长乐横岭村人。著名诗人、作家、翻 译家、儿童文学家。曾任中国民主促进会中央名誉主席， 中国文联副主席，中国作家协会名誉主席、顾问，中国翻 译工作者协会名誉理事等职。她的散文和诗歌一度产生很 大的影响，分别被茅盾称为“繁星体”和“春水体”。中 国现代文学史上第一位著名女作家，她以宣扬“爱的哲学” 著称。1999年2月28日晚九点于北京医院病逝，享年99岁。 因一生刚好跨过一个世纪，被称为世纪老人。
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e'en 英 [i:n] 美 [in] adv.恰好， Nhomakorabea使，甚至
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?
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Paper Boats—to Mother Never willing to waste a sheet of paper, I save and save Then fold them into small, small boats And throw them into the sea from my ship. Some are blown back into the portholes, Others are stuck on the stern, soaked by waves, And I, undiscouraged, keep on folding and hoping That one will finally reach its destination. O Mother, if you ever see a tiny white sail in your dream, Don't be startled by its unexpected presence for It was folded by your loving daughter to carry homeward Across the sea and mountains her love and sorrow.