Tang) Wang Wei: on the mountain holiday thinking of my brothers in shandong

A lonely stranger in a strange land I am cast, I miss my family all the more on every festive day.

Think of the brothers body boarded up high, will also because of less than I have a regret.

Five Poems on Mount cornus on the 9th.

Tang Zhang said

Home in Luoyang, lift up your eyes and see Songshan. Carved as cornus Festival, it is a room of love.

Yellow flowers should be full of wine, and Qingyue is easy to climb. I'm sorry for my humble beginnings, but I work hard for the world.

Chrysanthemum wine carries mountain travelers, and cornus sac is a shepherd boy. Lu Yi followed with great concern, and his heart seemed to ask HarmonyOS.

On the 9th, the number of double ninth festival was counted, and Sanqiu became a success. When the time comes, after visiting the porch, go and sit in Pengying.

Celebrate the ninth festival in the evening, and climb five thousand on the mountain. When you are drunk, you will meet the saints, and when you dream, you will find the immortals.

Mao Zedong: Picking Mulberry Seeds for Double Ninth Festival

Life is easy to get old, but it's hard to get old.

Today, it is Chongyang, and the yellow flowers in the battlefield are particularly fragrant.

The annual autumn wind is strong, unlike spring,

It's better than spring, and it's like Wan Li frost on a vast river.

(Tang) Du Mu: "Climbing the Mountain on Nine Days"

The river reflected the autumn shadow geese just south fly, about friends with the wine with the Flagon hill.

The world is troubled with a smile, and the chrysanthemum blooms when it is in full bloom.

However, I will pay for the festival as much as I can, and I will not hate it when I board.

Life is short history, after all, why, like qi jinggong to tears in the eyes.

Visit Xuanwu Mountain on the 9th.

Tang Shaodazhen

Looking at the sky on September 9, the autumn wind is born in autumn.

As soon as the cold geese go south and far away, tourists will be surrounded by chrysanthemums several times.

Fenghe went to Jionji pagoda on September 9th.

Don Song Zhiwen

The phoenix brake invades the clouds, and the rainbow leans against the sun. Scattered flower pagoda, Bujintian, Zhang Le.

When the chrysanthemum is fragrant and fairy, the autumn orchid is moving. Xiang street is a little late, and the Qing dynasty is dead.

Looking at Shutai on September 9th.

Tang suxiang

When the king of Shu looked at the old stage of Shu, he clearly saw a river on the 9 th. From then on, the customs of Beiliu Township,

The south resigned from the city and the country remained the same. Qingsong is on the bank of Mazan Rock, and Huang Ju is on the side of the road.

Since the past, I have been annihilated, and I can spread it alone.

Feng He Sheng Zhi Chongyang Dan Ri Bai Liao Qujiang Banquet as a token of my gratitude.

Tang Cui Yuanhan

I am honored to see Chang, and I am ashamed of my weakness. Fortunately, every good party is a clear autumn day.

Far away from the pot, the clear blue reflects the hairpin. Canned lambs are prepared for rich meals, and the phoenix is set to tune the law.

Poor toilets are heroic, and fun is forgotten. Ping Gao goes under the geese, and Qu Zhu goes out.

Chrysanthemum morifolium blooms, and the frost branches and fruits hang down. Astronomy sees imaging, and the emperor is diligent and compassionate.

Exploring the Tao leads to the mysterious beads, and the heart is in the special room. Is it like singing in the wind, and it is arrogant and easy?

On September 9 th, I gave Cui Shijun a good deed.

Tangwangji

Savage fan season and climate, sitting across the dust. When I suddenly saw the yellow flowers spitting, I knew that I was back.

A thousand rocks are reflected, and ten thousand trees are opened in Linpu. The aroma is full, and no one brings wine.

(Tang) Li Bai: "September 10 th is the thing"

Climb the mountain yesterday, and lift it again today.

Chrysanthemum is too bitter, and it's a double ninth festival.

(Tang) Lu Zhaolin: "On September 9, the Xuanwu Mountain Tour".

Looking at the mountains and rivers on September 9, I hope to accumulate wind and smoke.

In another country, drinking golden flower wine, Wan Li shares the same sorrow with Hongyan.

(Tang) Wang Bo: "Nine Days in Shu"

On September 9, at Wangxiangtai, he took a seat in a farewell cup.

Human feelings are tired of suffering in the south, and Hongyan is from the north.

(Tang) Wang Jin: "Nine Days of Work"

Don't compare the border with Kyoto, the frost grass has withered in August.

I wonder if there will be chrysanthemums in the wine today.

(Tang) Yang Heng: "Nine Days"

Yellow flowers and purple chrysanthemums fall by the fence, and picking chrysanthemums is full of wine and loving fragrance.

I can't bear to look forward to my hometown today, but I am forced to join the crowd.

Wei Anshi: "Feng He was lucky to climb the height of Linwei Pavilion on the ninth day"

On the ninth festival, you have to make a move.

The golden wind flutters the chrysanthemum, and the jade dew weeps the dogwood branches.

Looking at eight miles away, there are seven wonders in astronomy.

Deep in the face should be just around the corner, so do not forget the danger.

(Song) Li Qingzhao: Drunken Flower Shadows

The mist is thick and the clouds are sad forever, and the brain sells the golden beast.

In the double ninth festival, lying in the pillow, in the middle of the night, the cold of the body has just been soaked.

Drinking wine in the eastern fence until after dusk, the faint yellow chrysanthemum fragrance overflowing with double sleeves.

Don't be ecstasy, curtain rolls west wind, people are thinner than yellow flowers!

(Southern Dynasty Chen) General Manager Jiang: "Yu Chang 'an returned to Yangzhou to visit Weishan Pavilion on September 9 to rhyme"

My heart went south to the cloud, but the body came back from north to south in the fall.

How many flowers are there under the fence in my hometown today?

(Yuan) Guan Hanqing: "Drunk with the East Wind"

The poem on the red leaves let it bear the emotion withstanding the royal trench, the people of the chrysanthemum lie in the song upstairs.

The shadows of geese are thin in the sky, and the moon is thin when it sets.

In the cold autumn, the willows are chilling and sad.

Who will teach white clothes to deliver wine?

Nine-day ascent

Tang Liu Yuxi

The world is dangerous, and the smoke in Junmen is deep. Go up high every year, and you will not be sad.

Mount Xuanwu on September 9th.

Don Lu Zhaolin

Looking at the mountains and rivers on September 9, I returned to my heart and looked at the wind and smoke.

In another country, drinking golden flower wine, Wan Li shares the same sorrow with Hongyan.

Chongjiuri Guangling Road Middle

Don Luo Yin

Where did Akiyama climb when he was ill? In the past, Wei Qu was now Guangling. Guangling' s drunkenness does not relieve boredom.

Wei Qu's old tour is admirable. The holiday season is divided with the time, and the time is helpless and disgusting.

But he drove his horse forward, and Luqi could not be imprisoned.

Climb the mountain at sunset

Tang xuxuan

In autumn and dusk, when the rice is high and the rice is ripe, guests will meet on the falling star mountain. Yellow flowers and wine are popular,

White hair is full of thoughts about the ancients. At night, the rock shadow sees the clouds coming out of the cave, and the lake light sees the guests from afar.

The wind and smoke don't change the length of the year, and they will eventually stay with Lin Quan.

Thoughts on Double Ninth Festival:

It's another cool autumn day. When I look back, the Double Ninth Festival has come quietly, and I think of my kind grandmother and kind grandfather. The vicissitudes of time have dyed their hair into white hair, and the wind and rain of life have carved wrinkles on their foreheads. No, but it's not white hair and wrinkles, but deep love for children.

There are many poems about the Double Ninth Festival, such as: "Being a stranger in a foreign land, I miss my family more often during the festive season. I know from afar where my brother climbed, and there was one less person in the dogwood. " Reciting this famous poem through the ages, I have a lot of thoughts. Perhaps, today will be the most homesick day for wanderers, but is everyone like this? It is true that many people in today's world have been carried away by money and fame. When they are developed, they forget their parents who raised them. Is it because they feel that they were all taken for granted before, or have forgotten their ancestors for a long time? "Old me and old people, young me and young people". Isn't this sentence enough to interpret the meaning of respecting the elderly and loving the young? People always get old. When you are not interested in all kinds of disputes in life, how do you want your children to treat you and spend a happy old age? "Love for the old is actually love for yourself". Love may be a heavy word for some people, but it is not. Love does not need to be vigorous and go through fire and water. It is a tiny action, which may be the greatest embodiment of love. As teenagers, we can't give the old people too much, but we can give them a hug, wash their feet and comb their hair once, which is also a kind of happiness for them.

I remember reading such a story: a couple disliked the old people at home, and always let him eat by the stove, and the food was also some leftovers and cold dishes. The wooden bowl always contained few things, saying that the old man would not break it. One day, their son was also making a wooden bowl, and when he asked, he realized that it was for their old age, and suddenly understood everything. Since then, the couple's attitude towards the old man has changed dramatically. I don't know whether people in today's society will treat the elderly in the same way, but I know that the elderly need care. Have you ever realized that? As one of the traditional virtues of the Chinese nation, "respecting the elderly" hopes that our generation of young people will join hands to hold up a blue sky for the old people.

It's another cool autumn day. When I look back, the Double Ninth Festival has come quietly, and I think of my kind grandmother and kind grandfather. The vicissitudes of time have dyed their hair into white hair, and the wind and rain of life have carved wrinkles on their foreheads. No, but it's not white hair and wrinkles, but deep love for children.