The ancient poems of Qingming are as follows:

Ten ancient poems of Qingming Festival: Du Mu (杜牧) "Qingming" of Tang Dynasty, Wang Yucheng (王禹偁) "Qingming" of Song Dynasty, Huang Tingjian (黄庭坚) "Qingming" of Song Dynasty, Meng Haoran (孟浩然) "Qingming Immediate Events" of Tang Dynasty, Wu Wenying (吴文英) "Wind into the Pine" of Song Dynasty, Bai Juyi (白居易) "Night of Qingming" of Tang Dynasty, Qin Guan (秦观) "Jiangchengzi (江城子) - Drunken Tourist in the Weather of Qingming" of Song Dynasty, Song Dynasty Wu Qian's "Spring of Begonia", Song Dynasty Huang Xiaomai's "Night Moon in Xiangchun - Near Qingming", Song Dynasty Gao Zhu's "Wine Pairing on Qingming Day".

1, Tang Dynasty Du Mu "Qingming"

The rain falls one after another at the time of Qingming, and the pedestrians on the road want to break their souls.

Where can I find a tavern? The shepherd boy points to the village of apricot blossoms.

Translation: In the south of the Yangtze River, the rain falls one after another during the Ching Ming Festival, and the pedestrians on the road all want to break their souls. I asked the local people where they could buy wine to drown their sorrows. The shepherd boy smiled and pointed to a village deep in the apricot blossoms.

2. Song Dynasty Wang Yucheng's "Qingming"

No flowers, no wine, no flowers at Qingming.

Yesterday, the neighbors begged for a new fire, and the window was divided into reading lamps.

Translation: Spending the Ching Ming Festival without flowers or wine, the mood of depression is like that of a monk who lives in a temple in the wilderness of the mountains. Yesterday, I asked the neighboring family for a freshly lit fire, and at dawn, I lit a lamp in front of the window and sat down to read.

3. Huang Tingjian, Song Dynasty, "Qingming"

The festival of Qingming is a time for smiling peaches and plums, and the wild fields and barren graves are only a source of sorrow.

Thunderstorms in heaven and earth, dragons and snakes sting, and rain is enough to soften the grass and trees in the countryside.

People beg to sacrifice their concubines and women, while soldiers are willing to burn to death.

Who are the wise and the foolish in a thousand years, and who are they?

Translation: At the time of the Qingming Festival, peaches and plums bloomed with smiles. The graves in the fields that are full of weeds are dismal. The spring thunder rolls on, waking up the hibernating dragons and snakes; the spring rain is abundant, moisturizing the countryside, making the grass and trees green and soft.

In ancient times, there were Qi men who went in and out of graves begging for sacrificial food to boast to their wives and concubines, and there was also Jie Zi Tui who refused to become an official and was burned to death by fire. Whether they were virtuous or mediocre, who will know after a thousand years? In the end, what remains in the world is nothing more than a mess of weeds.

4, Tang Dynasty, Meng Haoran "Qingming instant incident"

The empire is heavy Qingming, the hearts of the people since the sad thoughts.

The sound of cars on the road, the color of willows on the east side of the city.

Flowers and grasses grow together, and warblers and butterflies play together.

The empty hall is filled with memories, and the tea is a substitute for drunkenness.

Translation: The annual Qingming Festival in Kyoto has come and gone, and people's hearts are naturally filled with sadness and longing. The sound of carriages on the road is busy sound, the eastern outskirts of the city breeze willows a lush green. Falling flowers and grass grow together, yellow warblers fly around, pairs of butterflies play. Sitting alone in the empty hall to recall the past, tea instead of wine, to comfort.

5. Wu Wenying, Song Dynasty, "Wind into the Pine"

Listening to the wind and the rain, after the Qingming Festival. The grass of sadness is a flower. The green in front of the building is dark, a touch of willow, an inch of tenderness. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get a good look at this, but I'm sure I'm going to be able to get a good look at this.

The Western Garden is a place where you can sweep the forest pavilion every day. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands on a new one, and you'll be able to do that. The first thing you need to do is to get your hands dirty. I'm not sure how much I'm going to be able to do this, but I'm sure I'll be able to do it," he said.

Translation: Listening to the sound of the wind and rain, I was alone and lonely in the Qingming Festival. I buried the fallen flowers all over the ground, and I drafted the inscription of the burial of the flowers with sadness. The place in front of the building to say goodbye is now a dense shade of green. Each strand of willow silk, are sent a tender love. In the cold of spring, I drank alone, wanting to dream of reuniting with my beloved, but was unexpectedly awakened by the crowing of the warbler.

The pavilions and woods of the Western Garden, which I sent to clean up every day, still come here to enjoy the beauty of the new clearing. The bees frequently swooped to the swing you swung, the rope and your delicate hands held and left the fragrance of the warmth. I am so depressed and sad, your silhouette is always no news. The moss that grows overnight on the empty steps of the silence has been green.