In late spring and March, during the Qingming Festival, I looked gloomily at the hillside in the north of the city. The newly-acquired kindling blazed and new flowers sprouted on the branches of the old tung tree.
I am depressed, ashamed of the flowers and plants updated every year, and embarrassed to invite friends to dinner. Alas, I can't compare with the birds in the forest. They can fly freely from tree to tree and comb their feathers from time to time.
Original text:
day of mourning
Tang Dynasty: Sun
In the late spring of Qingming, I look at the northern hills. Flirting opens a new flame with a fire, and tung flowers make old branches.
Shen Ming was ashamed of the past and kept the banquet secret from his friends. Not as good as a bird in the forest, moving Joe and feathers.
Extended data:
Tomb-Sweeping Day's other ancient poems
1, Qingming
Tang Dynasty: Du Mu
A drizzling rain falls like tears on the Mourning Day; The mourner's heart is going to break on his way.
Excuse me, where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy pointed to Xinghua Village.
During the Qingming Festival in the south of the Yangtze River, the drizzle drifted one after another, and all the passengers on the road were down and out. Where can local people buy wine to drown their sorrows? The shepherd boy just smiled and pointed to Xinghuashan Village.
2. Tomb-Sweeping Day wine
Song Dynasty: Gaozu
There are many tomb fields in the north and south hills, and the Qingming sweeps each other.
Paper ashes fly into white butterflies, and tears are dyed into red azaleas.
When the sun goes down, the fox sleeps in front of the grave, and the children smile at the lights when the night returns.
As long as you are alive, enjoy your wine and indulge yourself. In the grave after your death, you can't taste a drop.
Tomb-Sweeping Day, south and north of Nanshan Mountain, people are busy paying homage to the grave. Burned paper ash flies around like a white butterfly and cries sadly, just like a cuckoo will spit out blood when it cries.
At dusk, the silent cemetery is desolate, and only the fox sleeps on the grave. At night, the children who came back from the grave laughed and laughed in front of the lights. Therefore, people should drink when they are alive, and enjoy when they are blessed. After death, how could a drop of wine from a child's grave ever flow to the underworld?
3. Qingming
Song Dynasty: Huang Tingjian
Every holiday season, I miss my parents, and the peaches and plums smile, and the Noda wilderness is only sad.
Thunder stung dragons and snakes, and the original vegetation in the suburbs was soft after the rain.
It's unfair for people to sacrifice my arrogant concubine and wife, but it's unfair to burn them.
A clever fool has known who it is for thousands of years, and his eyes are full of chrysanthemum.
During the Qingming Festival, peach blossoms are in full bloom, and Li Bai smiles like a flower. Graves overgrown with weeds in the fields are sad. The spring thunder rolled and woke up the hibernating dragon snake worm; Abundant spring rain moistens the countryside and makes the vegetation soft and green.
In ancient times, Qi people went in and out of graves to beg for food and sacrifice, showing off to their wives and concubines. Some mesons refused to be officials and were burned to death. Sage or mediocrity, who knows in a thousand years? The last thing left in the world is weeds everywhere.
4. Qingming
Tang Dynasty: Du Mu
A drizzling rain falls like tears on the Mourning Day; The mourner's heart is going to break on his way.
Excuse me, where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy pointed to Xinghua Village.
During the Qingming Festival in the south of the Yangtze River, the drizzle drifted one after another, and all the passengers on the road were down and out. Where can local people buy wine to drown their sorrows? The shepherd boy just smiled and pointed to Xinghuashan Village.
5. Cold food is sent to the assistant minister for political prayer.
Song Dynasty: Yang Huizhi
During the Qingming Festival, I went out of the suburbs and went to Liuyingmen in Gushan City.
Water is separated by light smoke to repair the bamboo temple, and the road passes through the village of sparse rain and falling flowers.
It is hard to get drunk when the wine is thin in cold weather, but it is easy to break the soul when the ground is high.
Looking back thousands of miles away, who should I tell when my heart is gone?
During the Qingming Festival, I walked out of the country alone, and there were green willows hidden in every door of Gushan City. Through the faint mist of water, you can see the Buddhist temple pruning bamboo into shade, drizzling all the way, and the passing villages falling flowers.
Cold weather and thin light wine can't immerse me in a kind of intoxication. When I climb a tall building and see the sky is vast, when I miss my hometown and friends, I feel extremely sad more easily. Looking back at my hometown thousands of miles away, who will I say with parting feelings?