When my mother was seriously ill, I returned to my hometown to visit her.  I wanted to take care of my parents, but they have no time to wait.  Weeping I composed this poem.

To my mother for 60 years I've had deep feeling,

At sickbed I bore woe to keep weeping harder.

The flowers flourish just due to the dew in spring,

Even the grass has a graceful heart to the nature.

Weeping I would like to learn the feedback from crow,

And learn bird's biting circles but now's gone my mother.

The gown with dots to delight her just hung in yard,

With grateful heart to her I'd drink alone slower.

Translated by Zhao Yizhong