关于母亲节的诗句英语(关于母亲节的诗句英语版)
and their day goes over idleness,
and they sigh if the wind but lift the tress.
while i must work, because i am old,
and the seed of the fire gets feeble and cold.
Mom, you're a wonderful mother,
So gentle, yet so strong.
The many ways you show you care
Always make me feel I belong.
You're patient when I'm foolish;
You give guidance when I ask;
It seems you can do most anything;
You're the master of every task.
You're a dependable source of comfort;
You're my cushion when I fall.
You help in times of trouble;
You support me whenever I call.
I love you more than you know;
You have my total respect.
If I had my choice of mothers,
You'd be the one I'd select!
there’s a spot in my heart
which no colleen may own;
there’s a depth in my soul
never sounded or known;
there’s a place in my memory
my life that you fill;
no other can take it
no one ever will;
every sorrow or care
in the dear days gone by;
was made bright by the light
of the smile in your eye;
like a candle that’s set
in a window at night;
your fond love has cheered me
and guided me right;
sure i love the dear silver
that shines in your hair;
and the brow that’s all furrowed
and wrinkled with care;
i kiss the dear fingers
so toil warm for me;
oh! god bless you and
keep you, mother machree!
“M” is for the million things she gave me,
“O” means only that she is growing old,
“T” is for the tears she shed to save me,
“H” is for her heart of purest gold,
“E” is for her eyes,with love-light shining,
“R” means right,and right she will always be.
Put them all together,
they spell “MOTHER”,
A word that means the world to me.
They say that man is mighty,
He governs land and sea;
He wields a mighty scepter
O’er lesser powers that be;
But a mightier power and stronger,
Man from his throne has hurled,
And the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Before Two Portraits of My Mother
I love the beautiful young girl of this
portrait, my mother, painted years ago
when her forehead was white, and there was no
shadow in the dazzling Venetian glass
of her gaze. But this other likeness shows
the deep trenches across her forehead’s white
marble. The rose poem of her youth that
her marriage sang is far behind. Here is
my sadness: I compare these portraits, one
of a joy-radiant brow, the other care-
heavy: sunrise—and the thick coming on
of night. And yet how strange my ways appear,
for when I look at these faded lips my heart
smiles, but at the smiling girl my tears start.
If I could give you diamonds,for each tear you cried for me
If I could give you sapphires, for each truth you’ve helped me see
If I could give you rubies, for the heartache that you’ve known
If I could give you pearls,for the wisdom that you’ve shown
Then you’ll have a treasure, mother
that would mount up to the skies
That would almost match the sparkle in your kind and loving eyes
But I have no pearls, no diamonds
as I’m sure you’re well aware
So I’ll give you gifts more precious,my devotion, love and care
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