Song of the Parting Son
by Meng Jiao
From the threads a mother's hand weaves,
A gown for parting son is made.
Sewn stitch by stitch before he leaves,
For fear his return be delayed.
Such kindness as young grass receives
From the warm sun can't be repaid.
7j2tpj4pxmysq4nebevy
🤯🤯🤯🤯