多少次,我站在高高的领奖台上,享受着鲜花与掌声,却不见台下那一隅灰暗中绽开的笑颜:多少次,我在这大干世界里左冲右撞,却不见你默默为我收拾行囊的身影;多少次,我像个长不大的孩子纵情地奔跑,却不见孤身的你对我默默的注视。我的母亲,你便如地下的泉水一般,默默汇集,哺育我成长;而我,又如地上 How many times, I stand on the high podium, enjoy the flowers and applause, but not seen in the corner of the dark gray smile blooming: how many times, I am in this world of left and right bump, but do not see you Silently for me to pack up the figure; how many times, I like a child grow up ran passionately, but you do not see the silent eyes on me. My mother, you are like an underground spring, gathered silently, nurturing me to grow; and I, like the ground