The original singer of the song "Country Mom" ??is Yan Weiwen.

Yan Weiwen, born on August 26, 1957 in Pingyao County, Shanxi Province, is a tenor singer in Mainland China and graduated from the China Conservatory of Music. In 1970, he was admitted to the Shanxi Provincial Song and Dance Ensemble. In 1979, he joined the Song and Dance Ensemble of the General Political Department. In September 1983, he began to act as a soloist in the group. In 1984, he participated in the first Youth TV Singer Grand Prix. In 1988, he participated in the CCTV Spring Festival Gala for the first time, and he has also appeared on the CCTV Spring Festival Gala sixteen times.

In the same year, he also participated in the 3rd CCTV Young Singer TV Grand Prix and won the first prize in the professional group of ethnic singing. In 1990, he won the National Film and Television Top Ten Singer Award. In 2000, the single "Mother" was released. In 2004, the first album of the folk song series "Love Songs of the Western Regions" was released.

Lyrics of "Country Mom"

Sow your spring and autumn in one-third of an acre, planting melons and beans while busy in front of and behind the house. The sun and moon are squeezed out of oil with both hands, and the years can't be restrained by the melon and fruit stand and slip away quietly. With a needle, you embroider hardships into flowers and sew love into your pocket. Countless times I have missed my way back to my hometown. A glass of wine has the sour, sweet, bitter and spicy taste. Mom, Mom, my country mom, you always say that you can't get used to living in high-rise buildings in the city. It makes you feel uncomfortable when you go to the city and sit idle. It's not as good as our hometown, with its beautiful scenery and clear water. You can tell me that your son has a filial piety.

Mom is just enough for a needle. You embroider hardships into flowers and sew love into your child’s pocket. Countless times I have missed my way back to my hometown. A glass of wine has the sour, sweet, bitter and spicy taste. Mom, Mom, my country mother counts the years with her rough fingers, turning her black hair into white hair, and turning her curved back into a bridge. Your comfortable smile always remains at the end. Mom, Mom, my country mother counts the years with her rough fingers and turns her black hair into white hair. Her curved back turns into a bridge. Your comfortable smile always remains at the end.