Mother’s love is like an idyllic poem, pure and elegant.
Mother’s love is like a landscape painting. It is washed away from lead and carved ornaments, leaving fresh and natural.

Mother’s love is like an affectionate song, euphemistic, softly sing.
Mother’s love is a warm wind, blowing the snow to fly, bringing out the unlimited spring light.

The friendship may fade, the vow may be forgotten, but the love of the mother will live forever.

Dawn comes after dusk; autumn comes after spring.
Every bit of our progress, which one is not the crystallization of the mother’s painstaking efforts?

Mother’s love is so deep and pure, like the wine the longer it brews, the purer it is.
It lets us indulge it, and we do not know it is a millennium wine.

Mother’s love is sacrificial and unconditional.
We are unable to make any repayment.
But we can pay back by our love.

On this mother’s day, we want to say to our mother :
“Oh mom, we love you!”