Sad Memories Brought on by Qingming

When I was little,

homesickness was a tiny postage stamp,

with me on this side,

and Mother on the other.

When I grew up,

homesickness was a narrow boat ticket,

with me on this side,

and my bride on the other.

Later,

homesickness was a low grave,

with me outside,

and Mother inside.

And now,

homesickness is a shallow strait,

with me on this side,

and the mainland on the other.