The 10 ancient poems for the Chung Yeung Festival in seven-character stanzas are Remembering the Brothers of Shandong on the Ninth Day of the 9th Moon, Ascending to Mount Qishan on the Ninth Day, Nine Days in Shu, White Chrysanthemums on the Seat of the Chung Yeung Festival, Cui's Village on the Ninth Day of the Chung Yeung Festival, Climbing to Xuanwushan on the Ninth Day of the Chung Yeung Festival, Next Rhyme for Wang Gong on the 9th Day of the Chung Yeung Festival, Five Songs of the Chung Yeung Festival - One of the Five Songs of the Chung Yeung Festival, Send-off on the 9th Day of the Chung Yeung Festival, and Ascending to Wangxiantai on the 9th Day of the Chung Yeung Festival to Present Liu Mingfu.

1, "The Ninth Day of the Ninth Month, Remembering the Brothers of Shandong" Wang Wei [Tang Dynasty]

Alone in a foreign land as a foreign guest, doubly thinking of relatives at every festive season.

Distantly knowing where the brothers climbed up to, inserting Cornus officinalis all over the place, less one person.?

Translation: A person is a guest alone in another country, and he misses his distant relatives twice as much during festivals. When I think of my brothers climbing up the hill today, I am the only one whose head is full of dogwoods.

2, "nine days Qishan ascending" Du Mu [Tang Dynasty]

Jianghan autumn shadow of the geese first flew, and the guest with a pot on the Cuiwei.

It's hard to meet people in the world and laugh at them, and the chrysanthemums have to be inserted all over their heads.

But I'm not going to be able to get a drink to honor the holiday, so I don't need to go up to the mountains and hate the sunshine.

This is the only thing that has happened in the past, so why should I be alone in Oxford?

Translation: The river reflects the autumn shadow of the geese that have just flown south, and with friends, we take wine and go up to see the distance. The world is so full of troubles that it's hard to find anything that makes you smile, and I'm sure I'll have my head full of chrysanthemums before I go back to the mountains. We should only drink to the joys of the Chung Yeung Festival, and we should not worry about the sunset. Life is short, as it has been throughout the ages, and there is no need to be like Qi Jinggong, who wept alone on the mountain of oxen.

3, "nine days in Shu" Wang Bo [Tang Dynasty]

September 9 Wang Xiangxiangtai, his seat in his hometown to send a guest cup.

Human feelings are already tired of the bitter south of the center, the geese that come from the north of the land.

Translation: Ascending to the heights to look at the hometown on the Chung Yeung Festival, and drinking the wine to send off the guests at the farewell banquet in a foreign land, I only feel infinite annoyance. The heart is already tired of the various sorrows of the southern guest, unable to return, and why do the geese still come from the north.

4, "Chrysanthemums on the seat of the Chongyang" Bai Juyi [Tang Dynasty]

The garden is full of chrysanthemums in golden yellow, and there is a lone clump of color like frost.

It is also like this day's singing and drinking, the white-headed man into the juvenile field.

Translation: A garden full of chrysanthemums looks like golden yellow, but in the center there is a clump of snow white like frost. This is like today's song, dance and banquet, where the old man enters the place where the young man goes.

5, "Nine Days in Lantian Cui's Village" Du Fu [Tang Dynasty]

The old man went to grief in the autumn, strong self-expansion, the rise of today's full of the king's happiness.

Shympathetic to the short hair still blowing the cap, laughing at the side for the crown.

Blue water is far away from a thousand streams, and the jade mountain is high and two peaks are cold.

Who will be here next year? Drunkenly look carefully at the dogwood.

Translation: When a person is old and facing the sad and gloomy autumn colors, he can only barely console himself. Today coincides with the Chung Yeung Festival, and I am in the mood to have fun with everyone. I am ashamed to say that my hair is sparse, for fear that my hat will be blown away by the wind, laugh and ask the bystanders to put my hat right.

The water of Blue Creek flows far from a thousand streams, and Jade Mountain stands tall and cold, with its two peaks side by side, unchanged for ages. Who will still be alive when we meet again next year? Why don't we drink a few more glasses of wine, pick up the cornelian cherry and take a good look, expecting to meet again next year.