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In May last year，
A picture of my mother
Hidden in a book by me.
In May this year
I， in a book，
Encounter my mother.
My mother in the book
Becomes a thick book.
I open to one of the pages at random，
Breath of my mother
Blows on my face.
母亲，一个让人无法用语言来描述的称呼。因为有了您，无论孩子走得多远，都会记得家的方向。
A picture of my mother
Hidden in a book by me.
In May this year
I， in a book，
Encounter my mother.
My mother in the book
Becomes a thick book.
I open to one of the pages at random，
Breath of my mother
Blows on my face.
母亲，一个让人无法用语言来描述的称呼。因为有了您，无论孩子走得多远，都会记得家的方向。