1. Poems describing love. The most descriptive poem about love between men and women belongs to Qin Guan's "Man Ting Fang". The whole poem is as follows: The mountains are covered with faint clouds, the sky is sticky with decaying grass, and the sound of the horn cuts off the gate.

Pause the expedition and chat about sex to lead Li Zun.

How many old events in Penglai can only be looked back in vain, filled with mist.

Outside the setting sun, there are thousands of jackdaws, and flowing water surrounds the isolated village.

When the soul disappears, at this moment, the sachet is secretly dissolved, and the belt is lightly divided.

He won the brothel, but he survived in name.

When will we see you again?

There are crying marks on the sleeves.

From the injured place, Gaocheng can be seen, and the lights are already dusk.

Appreciation: This poem describes the sadness of male and female lovers when they part ways, and expresses the feelings of failure in career.

Gradually from the description of the scene, "wiping" and "sticking", the lower characters are exquisite and vivid, and the distant scenery is included in the painting.

The horn sounded the time, and after pausing for a moment, "Li Zun" said the farewell banquet, which was a scene of twilight and people walking in a hurry.

The three lines of "Old Things in Penglai" recall the old feelings, how lingering, infinitely lingering, and suddenly came to my heart.

Inserted descriptions of external scenes add to the sense of desolation and intensify the mood of farewell.

The sachet and the belt are decorated with "fen" and "jie", and at the moment of farewell, the tenderness and intimacy are inseparable, just in front of the eyes.

"I won't win", "When will we see you", thinking about the past and the past, feeling sorry for myself, helpless, forcing tears to stain my sleeves, and the separation reaches the climax.

The boat is sailing far away, the city is out of sight, and the night is deep, but I still look back and stare with endless care.

The brushstrokes are delicate, the thoughts are lingering, and the scenery is poetic and profound.

The above is for reference.

2. Poems describing love. The most poetic poem describing love between men and women belongs to Qin Guan's "Man Ting Fang". The whole poem is as follows: The mountains are covered with faint clouds, the sky is sticky with decaying grass, and the sound of the horn cuts off the gate.

Pause the expedition and chat about sex to lead Li Zun.

How many old events in Penglai can only be looked back in vain, filled with mist.

Outside the setting sun, there are thousands of jackdaws, and flowing water surrounds the isolated village.

When the soul disappears, at this moment, the sachet is secretly dissolved, and the belt is lightly divided.

He won the brothel, but he survived in name.

When will we see you again?

There are crying marks on the sleeves.

From the injured place, Gaocheng can be seen, and the lights are already dusk.

Appreciate this poem to describe the sadness of male and female lovers when they part ways, and to express the feelings of failure in career.

Gradually from the description of the scene, "wiping" and "sticking", the lower characters are exquisite and vivid, and the distant scenery is included in the painting.

The horn sounded the time, and after pausing for a moment, "Li Zun" said the farewell banquet. It was a scene of dim dusk and people walking in a hurry.

The three lines of "Old Things in Penglai" recall the old feelings, how lingering, infinitely lingering, and suddenly came to my heart.

Inserted descriptions of external scenes add to the sense of desolation and intensify the mood of farewell.

The sachet and the belt are decorated with "fen" and "jie", and at the moment of farewell, the tenderness and intimacy are inseparable, just in front of the eyes.

"I won't win", "When will we see you", thinking about the past and the past, feeling sorry for myself, helpless, forcing tears to stain my sleeves, and the separation reaches the climax.

The boat is sailing far away, the city is out of sight, and the night is deep, but I still look back and stare with endless care.

The brushwork is fine, the thoughts are lingering, and the scenery is poetic and profound.

The above is for reference.

3. Poems about writing about love 1. Red beans (Wang Wei) Red beans grow in the south, and they sprout a few branches when spring comes.

I hope you will pick more of them, this is the most loved thing.

2. Untitled (Li Shangyin) It’s hard to say goodbye when we meet, the east wind is powerless and the flowers are withered.

The spring silkworm's silk will not be used up until it dies, and the wax torch will not dry until it turns to ashes.

The morning mirror is full of worry, but the clouds on the temples are changing, and the moonlight is cold when singing at night.

There is not much way to get to Pengshan, and the blue bird is diligent in visiting.

3. Jiang Chengzi (Su Shi) Ten years of life and death.

If you don’t think about it, you will never forget it.

Thousands of miles of lonely tomb, no place to speak of desolation.

[1] Even if we meet each other, we should not know each other, our faces are covered with dust and our temples are like frost.

At night, you suddenly return to your hometown with a deep dream.

Xiaoxuan window, dressing up.

They looked at each other without words, only a thousand lines of tears.

It is expected that the broken heart will be cut off every year. On a bright moonlit night, there will be short pines.

4. Chaitou Feng (Lu You) Red crisp hands, yellow vine wine, the city is full of spring scenery and willows on the palace walls.

The east wind is bad, happiness is thin, and I am filled with sadness, and I have been away for a few years.

Wrong, wrong, wrong!

Spring is as old as ever, people are empty and thin, and the tears are stained red and the silk threads are transparent.

Peach blossoms fall, leisure pool pavilion.

Although the mountain alliance is there, it is difficult to trust the brocade book.

Mo, mo, mo!

5. Chai Tou Feng (Tang Wan) The world is thin and human beings are evil, and flowers tend to fall when the rain comes at dusk.

The morning wind dries, leaving traces of tears.

When I want to write down my thoughts, I talk alone in Xilan.

Disaster!

Disaster!

Disaster!

People are different, today is not yesterday, and the sick soul is always like a rope on a swing.

The sound of the horn is cold and the night is dark.

Afraid of being asked, swallowing tears and making up for joy.