Mother looked at the woman outside the door.

My brother saw his sisters,

Eldest sister-in-law frowned when she saw her eyes.

What are you blinking at?

Why are you frowning?

I didn't come back to divide the fields!

I didn't come back to break up!

I came back to see my parents.

My parents are old and have gone to the mountains.

(Otherwise) I won't return the eight big cars.

Unless the stones on the threshing floor are rotten to mud,

I'll be back when the pole blooms!

People in his hometown may not know what "bi" and "xing" mean, but he added "wild ducks fly in the harbor" before talking about secular human feelings. The word "bluff" here only takes the meaning of its sound and "speech", because dialects generally have sounds but no words. "Han Yuefu" swears that "the mountains have no edges, the rivers have brown, Lei Zhen in winter and rain and snow in summer." This is polished by scholars, and cultivators will only compare it with what is in front of them. Stones on the threshing floor and farmers' poles will not only die, but also blossom.

People in my hometown have probably never heard of thimble, but I heard a long nursery rhyme when I was a child:

Toad cries, spring is coming.

I don't want to play with sandals,

I want my mother to make flower shoes.

Want to pick up money in the field.

Clear the money book and pick up the horn.

A dead end, pointing to the sky.

It's too high. Pick up the knife.

This knife cuts vegetables quickly and conveniently.

The food is deep, pick up a needle.

Needle without nose, pick up the pen.

The pen has no stick. Pick up a bowl.

If the bowl is not along, pick up a boat.

The boat is bottomless, and I married all the way to Fenglinzui.

In Linxiang dialect, the last word of each sentence rhymes and is the thimble between sentences. Fenglinzui is a real local place name.

There are two other songs I read when I was a child listening to my mother coaxing my grandson and niece.

Three years old, wearing red shoes,

Swing to school.

Dad, don't hit me,

I'll go to my mother's house to eat something and then come back.

Writing about children's childishness and coquetry is easy to understand. The following one will take some time to explain.

Rub the lines.

Cook porridge with glutinous rice.

I ate three bowls,

Mom ate four bowls,

The baby scratched the bottom of the can.

When reading this nursery rhyme, let the child sit face to face on his knees and hold his two little hands. As soon as you let go, the child will lean back, then pull back and repeat this action. So this children's song is very rhythmic to read. The first two phrases are half-beat, pronounced as "pushing the valley" and "wiping the valley". Read these four phrases. After that, every sentence is a beat. As for where to stop, friends who like rhythm may wish to see and listen for themselves. I remember my mother was careful and slow when she sent the child out to lean back. After this action, she has read the word "glutinous rice boiled". Maybe she pulled the child back because she thought it was safer, so she moved faster. With this pulling action, the word "porridge" is shortened. The next few sentences are the same. I added the word "baby". When reading this children's song, I used the name of the child on my knee instead, but it must be overlapping. Especially I added the word "wipe" in the first sentence. This word is also pronounced without words in Linxiang dialect, meaning "pull". Push-pull is the action that people in my hometown use a T-shaped wooden handle to turn the stone mill. Actually, it is grinding glutinous rice and cooking glutinous rice porridge. In just two sentences and eight words, this complicated work is clearly explained. Parents eat three bowls and four bowls and even forget to leave some for their baby son, so that the baby can only scrape the bottom of the can. We can imagine the sweetness of glutinous rice porridge. This kind of handwriting is only found in the Book of Songs.

When their mothers and grandmothers taught them to sing these children's songs, the children didn't really understand them. They are too young. When they were older, they skipped out to play by themselves. At that time, all they read were some jingles they heard from their brothers and sisters, or the words "Toad, spring is coming." So these children's songs are actually passed down from mouth to mouth among adults. Maybe my mother was there when my grandmother read these children's songs to coax her grandson. She heard them. When she became a grandmother, she read them to coax my sister's children. I just heard them nearby, but I probably won't teach my children anymore, because my children will learn Mandarin when they are born. It's embarrassing for adults to say these things in dialect. Hometown people will teach a child to be sensible from an early age, instead of teaching an adult child to pretend to be young.

So when I asked my mother to tell me some nursery rhymes, she said she didn't know or didn't remember. I went home this National Day and stayed with her in the hospital ward for half a month. When she was happy, she told me a few more songs.

Give me five. Pick up Gaga.

There's nothing to croak about.

Toad jumped on the kang and looked down.

The "kang" mentioned here is not a kang bed in the north, but an attic, and some boards are laid on the beams to pile up sundries. "Gaga" means grandma. This song is also rhythmic, and half a sentence is a beat.

Yellow bitch, dragging her tail.

Three years old, sing a good song.

Don't tell me,

I learned it by biting myself.

"Bite to learn" means learning, which probably means learning English in dialect.

Fly a little, fly to Gaga.

Gaga doesn't kill chickens, she wants to go back outside.

This song is about holding the child's two index fingers after breastfeeding, touching them slowly and then pulling them apart like a string, and saying in a long voice, "Fly a little-yeah."