When I was young,
Homesickness is a small stamp.
I am here,
Mother is there.
When I grow up,
The nostalgia is a narrow ticket.
I am here,
The bride is over there.
Later,
The nostalgia is a short grave.
I am outside,
Mother is inside.
And now,
The nostalgia is a shallow strait of a bay.
I am here,
The mainland is at the end