Song of the Wandering Son
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
cí mǔ shǒu zhōng xiàn
yóu zǐ shēn shàng yī
lín xíng mì mì féng
yì kǒng chí chí guī
shuí yán cùn cǎo xīn
bào dé sān chūn huī
Thread in a loving mother’s hand; clothes on a traveling son. Stitches dense before departure, fearing a late return. Who says an inch of grass can repay three springs’ sun?
Care made visible in sewing; gratitude that can never fully match.
慈母手中线，游子身上衣——孟郊把爱写进针脚，离别在开口之前已被缝进布里。送别路径第四步：离开是别人替你付出的可见劳动。今日：替你收拾的行李、多打的一通电话。
The thread in a mother’s hand, dense stitches as the son leaves—the classic image of care you can see and touch. Meng Jiao’s Song lyric is short but physical: love measured in cloth before speech runs out. Fourth on the farewell path after stored rain: departure as someone else’s labor on your behalf. Today: the bag packed for you, the extra call, the person who still checks whether you ate.
给亲人的回报不必宏大；及时的一封信、一通电话，也是寸草对春晖。
Repayment need not be grand—timely care is grass answering spring light.
Read first, then practice — fill in lines and write a character.
Fill in the blanks
Practice calligraphy