1. Poems about Chef's Day

2. Poems about learning skills

Poems about Chef's Day 1. What are the poems about chefs

1. Poems about a New Bride-Wang Jian in Tang Dynasty

on the third day, taking my place to cook, washing my hands to make the bridal soup.

I decide that not my mother-in-law, but my husband's young sister shall have the fiat taste.

I came to the kitchen three days after my wedding, washed my hands and made soup myself. I don't know what my mother-in-law tastes, so let my sister-in-law taste it first.

2. "Let's Learn"-Cao Zhi of the Han Dynasty

set up a wine hall, and personally made friends and traveled with me.

Chinese cooks feast and cooks sheep and slaughters fat cows.

Good wine and wine are placed on the high hall, and close friends follow me to play. The chef has prepared rich dishes and cooked delicious beef and mutton.

3. Ode to Pork —— Su Dongpo in Song Dynasty

Clean the pan, lack of water, and the firewood can't afford to smoke.

don't rush him when he is ripe, he will be beautiful when the heat is enough.

Wash the pot clean, drain a little water, burn firewood and weeds to curb the fire, and simmer with a virtual fire that does not emit flames. Wait for it to ripen slowly, don't rush it. When the heat is enough, it will naturally taste delicious.

4, "Cold Food Banquet"-Zhang Ji in the Tang Dynasty

The chef in the gallery served cold food, and the incense rode in front of the hall to chase flying balls.

The chef under the cloister of the Palace is cutting cold food. In front of the main hall, beautiful women are dressed elegantly, moving with horses and chasing rolling balls.

5.

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translation: A young woman adds water to the dough, shapes the dough, and then fries it into tender and golden pasta in an oil pan.

2. Poems praising the chef

1. The kitchen knife waved and sang happily, while the frying ladle danced and smiled happily. The eight-treasure birthday cake is full of dishes, and the spoon and shovel in hand are happy to jump. If you want to ask the master what he is interested in, customers will be full of people to publicize my name. On World Chef's Day, may the master show his skill in cooking!

2, sweating without complaining, holding a shovel and spoon to dance in the air. There are many kinds of delicious food, and customers have praised it countless times. Sweet, sour, bittersweet and full of flavor, life is full of flavor. World Chef's Day, thank you for your hard work and make our life full of happiness!

3. There was a big feast in the front hall, and the kitchen was sweating and busy. The praise of delicious food has spread, and I have studied hard and practiced cooking for decades. On the World Chef's Day, the first-hand fried dishes are praised by all continents, and the flue-cured tobacco is smoked hard to practice stunts.

4. Delicious food is the fruit of hard work, delicious food is the crystallization of sweat, cooking is the hype of masters, white cases are carefully carved, and red cases are the virtues of cooking. World Chef's Day, May the Master: be famous all over the world, and the art will dominate the world!

5. Hold a kitchen knife and carve a happy life carefully; Stir-fry with a spatula to cook the delicious food of life; Slow stew, slowly aftertaste the happy time. World Chef's Day, I wish you a happy life!

6. Chop vegetables happily and cut out a wonderful life; Happy cooking makes life wonderful; Happy stir fry, stir fry a happy meal. On World Chef's Day, I wish you enjoy cooking, keep cooking delicious and have a happy life!

A chef is a person who takes cooking as his occupation and cooking dishes as his main job. The profession of chef appeared very early, and there was already a full-time chef in the slave society. With the continuous improvement of social material civilization, the chef profession is also developing, and the team of full-time chefs is expanding. According to relevant statistics, at the beginning of the 21st century, the number of chefs in the world has grown to tens of millions. China is known as the culinary kingdom in the world, and its strength and number of chefs are second to none.

Chefs are, to some extent, the second parents of human beings-the world NGOs agreed to designate October 2th as Chef's Day.

3. Poems about chefs

1. When I see you, I fantasize about it. When I see you, my mouth is watering. When I am with you, I always secretly swallow my saliva. Here I know what a variety is. When the World Chef's Day comes, I send my sincere wishes to you. I wish you a better life, a prosperous career and a happy life.

2. The knife is exquisite, cutting out colorful life; Exquisite materials and graceful mood; Seasoning is delicious, mixed with ups and downs; Stir-fried and fried to make a stunning taste; Carefully designed and cooked a happy meal. World Chef's Day, may you enjoy cooking and be happy!

3. You sang the chef's song, sometimes melodious and sometimes passionate, which made us intoxicated first. When you play chess in the pot, the next step is salt, and then the next step is monosodium glutamate. We are amazed at your good chess. You paint on delicious food, which is colorful here and abstract there, presenting wonderful achievements to our eyes. World Chef's Day, thank you, great chef, and wish you happiness!

4. I miss the noodles you made, and I am deeply impressed. Miss your boiled dumplings, crystal clear. You use spring and autumn techniques to make tiger skin green pepper, use carving techniques to make cold stir-fry, and use literary techniques to make stewed braised pork. You chose a chef, and the world lost a poet. World Chef's Day, delicious food depends on chefs. Wish: Happy holidays!

Poems about learning crafts 1. Poems about crafts

quoted Li He from ear to ear

Wu Si Shu Tong Zhang Gaoqiu, the empty mountains are frozen and the clouds are not flowing. Jiang E cries for Motome's sorrow, Li Ping plays with China. Kunshan jade is broken and the phoenix cries, and Furong cries and dew fragrant orchid smiles. The twelve gates are cold and bright. The old fish dances thin and thin. Wu sleeps on the laurel tree, and flies on wet and cold rabbits with bare feet.

Pipa player Bai Juyi

I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Xunyang River, where maple-leaves and full-grown rushes rustled in the autumn I, the host, had dismounted, my guest had boarded his boat, and we raised our cups and wished to drink-but, alas, there was no music for all we had drunk we felt no joy and were parting from each other, when the river widened mysteriously toward the full moon we had heard a sudden sound, a guitar across the water, host forgot to turn back home, and guest to go his way. Who is the bomber? The sound broke off...then reluctantly she answered, we moved our boat near hers, invited her to join us, summoned more wine and lanterns to recommence our banquet, yet we called and urged a thousand times before she started toward us, still hiding half her face from us behind her guitar, ...She turned the tuning-pegs and tested several strings, we could feel what she was feeling, even before she played, each string a meditation, each note a deep thought, it seems that they were frustrated in their lives. They kept on playing with low eyebrows, and said that they had unlimited things in their hearts. They gathered slowly, twisted slowly, rubbed and picked repeatedly, and at first it was Liu Yao after "Nishang". The big strings were noisy like rain, and the small strings were earnest like whispers. The big beads and small beads were scattered and scattered. It's hard to get under the ice in the deep throat spring. The ice spring is cold and astringent, and the condensate never stops. into a depth of sorrow and concealment of lament, told even more in silence than they had told in sound, a silver vase abruptly broke with a gush of water, and out leapt armored horses and weapons that clashed and smote, and, before she laid her pick down, she ended with one stroke, and all four strings made one sound, as of rending silk, there was quiet in the east boat and quiet in the west, and we saw the white autumnal moon enter the river's heart, thoughtfully put the strings in the strings, straightened up the clothes, and began to look astringent. She said that she was a woman in Beijing and lived in the frog's tomb. She learned pipa in the thirteenth year and was named the first part of the teaching workshop. Qu Ba once taught good talents. Her beauty the envy of all the leading dancers, how noble youths of Wuling had lavishly competed, and numberless red rolls of silk been given for one song, and silver combs with shell inlay been snapped by her rhythms, and skirts the colour of blood been spoiled with stains of wine, season after season, joy had followed joy, autumn moons and spring winds had passed without her heeding, till first her brother left for the war, and then her aunt died, who came to the past, were left out in front of the door, and the boss was married as a businessman's wife. The businessman paid more attention to profit than parting, and went to the pontoon to buy tea the month before yesterday. He went to the estuary to watch an empty boat and sail around the river, and it was cold. He dreamed of juvenile affairs at night, and his dreams were red with tears. I heard that the pipa had sighed, and I heard this again. I came, a year ago, away from the capital, and am now a sick exile here in Jiujiang and so remote is Jiujiang that I have heard no music, neither string nor bamboo, for a whole year my quarters, near the River Town, are low and damp, with bitter reeds and yellowed rushes all about the house and what is to be heard here, morning and evening?? The bleeding cry of cuckoos, the whimpering of apes Chunjiang Flower Dynasty (zhāo) autumn moon night, I have often taken wine up and drunk it all alone of course there are the mountain songs and the village pipes, but they are crude and-strident, and grate on my ears and tonight, when I heard you playing your guitar, I felt as if my hearing were bright with fairymusic do not leave us. Come, sit down. Play for us again., translated Pipa Travel for you. ...Moved by what I said, she stood there for a moment, however, sat and urged the strings to turn nasty. The sadness was not like moving forward, and all the seats were covered with tears. Who cried the most? This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeve was wet.

2. Poems describing handicrafts

1. Weaving women's words

In the Tang Dynasty, Yuan Zhen

still tried hard to weave silk, but changed the machine to weave.

the boss's white daughter can't get married to get rid of the tattoo.

On the hairspring curled in front of the eaves, there are spiders coming and going skillfully.

ordinary silk weaving is hard enough, and it is even more difficult to weave patterned silk. It is extremely difficult to pick out patterns on fabrics by pulling the loom and changing the thread, which requires a high level of technology. It is not easy to cultivate experts in picking patterns, but there are clever girls who are detained for their parents because of their outstanding skills and delay their youth.

2. The Jade Case stopped sewing every year

Song Dynasty: Huang Gongshao

stopped sewing every year. How can you bear to see, fly in pairs. It's half spring in Jiangcheng today. A suit is still there, deep in the chaotic mountains, by the lonely creek bridge.

whose needle and thread is broken in the spring shirt? Little by little, full of tears. The setting sun loosens the saddle and the grass shore. No one wears flowers, no one advises wine, and no one cares about drunkenness.

Translation

On the day of the Spring Festival every year, women stop sewing. How can she stand to see Chun Yan, who flies and lives together? Today, most of the spring scenery in Jiangcheng has passed, and I am still alone in the depths of the chaotic mountains, standing lonely by the stream.

The spring shirt is worn out. Who will mend my needle and thread? Little by little, I shed my Man Chun shirt with tears. At sunset, I took off my saddle and stood on the lush river bank. Although there were flowers, no one wore them. Although there were fine wines, no one advised me to hold them. Even if I was drunk, no one took care of them.

3. Nanxiangzi Bi Yue Xiao Hong Lou

Song Dynasty: Sun Weixin

The dust is dark. Needle and thread have worked hard and fingers are soft. Have a dream for thirty years, and rest. Empty for plum blossom white head.

translation

Dust covers the clothes made of wild goose feathers, and sewing it has kept your fingers busy for days. Thirty years have passed like a big dream, and romance has long been a thing of the past. Now I can only sigh at plum blossoms, and now I am white-haired!

4. Watch the embroidery patterns/chanting obstacles of prostitutes in Cui Langzhong, Zhengzhou

Tang Dynasty: Hu Lingneng

The flower buds are charming in front of the sunset hall, vying for a small pen to draw on the bed.

Embroidered into an peaceful place in the Spring Garden, which attracted Oriole to drop wicker.

The flowers in front of the hall are beautiful in the afterglow of dusk. A group of lovely embroidered women are vying for a pen and embroidered bed to sketch. Embroidered into a beautiful screen, quietly put it into the garden, which made Oriole curious and left the wicker.

5. Peacock flies to the southeast/Poem is written for Jiao Zhongqing's wife

Han Dynasty: anonymous

The cock crows into the machine, and it can't stop every night. It's too late to break five horses in three days, my Lord.

Translation

Every day when chickens crow, I go into the computer room to spin, and I can't rest every night. I can cut off five pieces of cloth on the plane in three days, but my mother-in-law deliberately thinks I am slow and relaxed.

3. The poem about craft

quoted Li He Wu Si Shu Tong Zhang Gaoqiu, the empty mountain was congealed with clouds, but it didn't flow. Jiang E sang bamboo, Motome was sad, Li Ping played with China, Kunshan jade shattered the phoenix, Lotus cried and dew fragrant orchid smiled. The twelve gates melted with cold light, and the twenty-three silk moved the purple emperor. Nuwa. Wet cold rabbit flying obliquely with bare feet. Pipa player Bai Juyi I was bidding a guest farewell, at night on the Xunyang River, where maple-leaves and full-grown rushes rustled in the autumn I, the host, had dismounted, my guest had boarded his boat, and we raised our cups and wished to drink-but, alas, there was no music for all we had drunk we felt no joy and were parting from each other, when the river widened mysteriously toward the full moon we had heard a sudden sound, a guitar across the water, host forgot to turn back home, and guest to go his way. Who is the bomber? The sound broke off...then reluctantly she answered, we moved our boat near hers, invited her to join us, summoned more wine and lanterns to recommence our banquet, yet we called and urged a thousand times before she started toward us, still hiding half her face from us behind her guitar, ...She turned the tuning-pegs and tested several strings, we could feel what she was feeling, even before she played, each string a meditation, each note a deep thought, it seems that they were frustrated in their lives. They kept on playing with low eyebrows, and said that they had unlimited things in their hearts. They gathered slowly, twisted slowly, rubbed and picked repeatedly, and at first it was Liu Yao after "Nishang". The big strings were noisy like rain, and the small strings were earnest like whispers. The big beads and small beads were scattered and scattered. It's hard to get under the ice in the deep throat spring. The ice spring is cold and astringent, and the condensate never stops. into a depth of sorrow and concealment of lament, told even more in silence than they had told in sound, a silver vase abruptly broke with a gush of water, and out leapt armored horses and weapons that clashed and smote, and, before she laid her pick down, she ended with one stroke, and all four strings made one sound, as of rending silk, there was quiet in the east boat and quiet in the west, and we saw the white autumnal moon enter the river's heart, thoughtfully put the strings in the strings, straightened up the clothes, and began to look astringent. She said that she was a woman in Beijing and lived in the frog's tomb. She learned pipa in the thirteenth year and was named the first part of the teaching workshop. Qu Ba once taught good talents. Her beauty the envy of all the leading dancers, how noble youths of Wuling had lavishly competed, and numberless red rolls of silk been given for one song, and silver combs with shell inlay been snapped by her rhythms, and skirts the colour of blood been spoiled with stains of wine, season after season, joy had followed joy, autumn moons and spring winds had passed without her heeding, till first her brother left for the war, and then her aunt died, who came to the past, were left out in front of the door, and the boss was married as a businessman's wife. The businessman paid more attention to profit than parting, and went to the pontoon to buy tea the month before yesterday. He went to the estuary to watch an empty boat and sail around the river, and it was cold. He dreamed of juvenile affairs at night, and his dreams were red with tears. I heard that the pipa had sighed, and I heard this again. I came, a year ago, away from the capital, and am now a sick exile here in Jiujiang and so remote is Jiujiang that I have heard no music, neither string nor bamboo, for a whole year my quarters, near the River Town, are low and damp, with bitter reeds and yellowed rushes all about the house and what is to be heard here, morning and evening?? The bleeding cry of cuckoos, the whimpering of apes Chunjiang Flower Dynasty (zhāo) autumn moon night, I have often taken wine up and drunk it all alone of course there are the mountain songs and the village pipes, but they are crude and-strident, and grate on my ears and tonight, when I heard you playing your guitar, I felt as if my hearing were bright with fairymusic do not leave us. Come, sit down. Play for us again., translated Pipa Travel for you. ...Moved by what I said, she stood there for a moment, however, sat and urged the strings to turn nasty. The sadness was not like moving forward, and all the seats were covered with tears. Who cried the most? This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeve was wet.

4. That poem about learning

1. Learning is the first thing to stand on, and reading is the foundation of learning. -Ouyang Xiu

2. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. -Lao Tzu

3. If a young man doesn't work hard, the old man will be sad. -"Han Yuefu Long Songs"

4. If you don't learn, you can't learn. -Zhuge Liang

5. Reading has broken thousands of volumes, and writing is like a god. -Du Fu

6. Birds want to fly high, first flap their wings, and people want to study first. —— Li Kuchan

7. Industry is good at diligence, and it is barren in play; What is done is thought, but it is destroyed. -Han Yu

8. Mechanics is the first thing to stand on, and mechanics is based on reading. —— Ouyang Xiu

9. It is the night when men are studying. Teenagers only know play, do not know to study well, to the old time regret when they are young, why don't know to study hard. -Yan Zhenqing

1. Don't be idle, turning your head white and feeling sad. -Yue Fei

11. To know what's going on in the world, you must read ancient books. -Feng Menglong

12. The method of reading is gradual, familiar and thoughtful. —— Zhu Xi

13. Life is diligent, and you don't ask for anything. -Zhang Heng

14. When books are used, they hate less, and things are difficult until they have gone through. -Lu you

15. If you don't read for a day, everything will be barren. -Li Xu

16. After reading a book a hundred times, you can see its meaning. -Chen shou

17. If a scholar wants to declare his righteousness, he must read his book first. -Wang Fu

18. Those who know are not as good as those who are good, and those who are good are not as good as those who are happy. -Confucius

19. Reading is like walking, and you don't have to be afraid to take risks. -"Qing Shi Duo Reading"

2. I never tire of reading old books, and I am familiar with them. -Su Shi

21. Tired of reading is better than composition. -cheng duanli

22. if you don't study early, you will regret it later. -

23, "Qing Shi Duo Song Early", the taste of toughness is disgusting for a long time; The longer you read, the deeper you get. -Cheng Yi

24. Learning without thinking is useless, and thinking without learning is dangerous. -Confucius

25, sensitive and eager to learn, not ashamed to ask questions. -hole