The poems with overlapping words are like searching and searching, deserted, and miserable. The phoenix trees are covered with drizzle, and at dusk, it rains bit by bit. Who knows that every meal on the plate is hard work? The grass on the original plain grows brighter and wither every year. The little lotus has just revealed its sharp corners, and dragonflies have already stood on it.

Ancient poems with overlapping words

Climb high

(Tang Dynasty) Du Fu

The wind is strong, the sky is high, the apes are screaming in mourning, and the sand is clear in the desert The white bird flew back.

Boundless falling trees rustle, and the endless Yangtze River rolls by.

Wanli has always been a guest in the sad autumn, and he has been sick for a hundred years alone on the stage.

Hard and bitter, I hate the frost on my temples, and my new wine glass becomes turbid.

Dielianhua

(Song Dynasty) Ouyang Xiu

How deep is the courtyard?

The willows are piled with smoke, and the curtains are countless.

The jade-carved saddle is in the place where you can see the Zhangtai Road.

The rain is blowing and the wind is blowing at the end of March.

The door is closed at dusk, and there is no way to stay in the spring.

With tears in her eyes, she asked the flowers without saying a word, and the red flowers flew across the swing.

The warblers and swallows are flying, the flowers are blooming and the leaves are blooming.

Through winds and rains, warm and cold, I look for you everywhere.

South, south, north and north, civil and military affairs, fighting and fighting, killing and slashing, searching and plundering, looking at everything.

In every house, there are women, men and men, lonely and widowed, frightened and crying everywhere, it is really miserable.

The voice is slow

Looking and searching, deserted and miserable. It is most difficult to breathe when it is warm and then cold. Three cups and two cups of light wine are no match for it. The wind comes late at night. The wild geese are passing by, and I am sad, but it is an old acquaintance. The yellow flowers are piled up all over the ground, and they are haggard and damaged. Who can pick them now? Watching the window, how can you be alone and dark? The phoenix trees are covered with drizzle, and at dusk, it rains bit by bit.

This time, how could there be such a thing as "sorrow"!