The 10 old poems for the Chung Yeung Festival are as follows:

1, "Remembering the Brothers of Shandong on the Ninth Day of the 9th Moon"

Author: Wang Wei

We are alone in a foreign land, and we think of our relatives twice as much when we are in a festive season.

We know that our brothers climbed up to the top of the mountain, but we have to put cornelian cherry on the top of the mountain.

This is the only way to do it in the past, so why should I be alone in Oxford?

2, "Nine Days"

Author: Wen Sen

Three years ago, the chrysanthemum was not at home when it opened. I am not at home when the chrysanthemums bloomed. I am not at home when I drink today's wine.

There are clouds in the open field, and geese gather on the sand in the cold sky. I'm not sure where I'm going to be able to find my way to the capital.

3, "Cai Sang Zi Chongyang"

Author: Mao Zedong

Life is easy, God is hard to grow old, year after year Chongyang,

Today and again, Chongyang, the yellow flowers of the battlefield are very fragrant.

Once a year, the autumn wind is strong, not like the spring light,

Something like the spring light, the lonesome river sky ten thousand miles of frost.

4. "The Chrysanthemums in the Chrysanthemum Festival"

Author: Bai Juyi

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

It is still like this day when I sang and drank at the banquet table, and the white-headed man entered the juvenile field.

5, "Drunken Blossom Yin - Mist and Thick Clouds, Forever and Ever"

Author: Li Qingzhao

Mist and thick clouds, Forever and Ever, Rui brain pin gold beasts.

The festive season is again the sun, the jade pillow yarn kitchen, midnight cool through.

Don't worry, I'm not going to be able to get a good look at you, but I'm going to be able to get a good look at you.

There is no way I can't be happy with the way I feel, and the curtains are rolling in the west wind.

6, "Lieutenant Li Duyang day get Su belongs to the country book"

Author: Bai Xingjian

Subduing the captives will not be like, poor and desolate in the beginning of September. I have been in a foreign land for three autumns, and I have written a letter to the deceased.

There is no limit to the love of wine, and there is more than enough to think about. The first time I saw this was when I was a little girl, and it was a long time ago, and it was a long time ago.

The geese are all over the flat sand, and the smoke is gone from the desert. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to do that, but I'm going to be able to do it," he said.

7, "The Day of the Chrysanthemums"

Author: Du Xunhe

On the day of the Chrysanthemums, I went up to the ancient platform, and in the chaos of the time, who saw the chrysanthemums blossomed.

Stealing white hair is really laughable, and locking up gold is really sad.

It is a young man who has grown old, and he knows that the mound is not glorious.

All of us clapped our hands and sang, "Don't go back before the sun goes down".

8. "Autumn Climbing the Wanshan Mountain and Sending Zhang Wu"

Author: Meng Haoran

The hermit is happy in the white clouds of the northern mountains. I am not sure if I will be able to make it, but I will be able to make it.

Sorry because of the twilight, Xing is a clear fall hair. I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to get a good look at this, but I'm sure I'll be able to get a good look at this.

The trees in the sky are like chestnuts, and the river is like the moon. I'm not going to be able to get a good look at this, but I'm going to be able to get a good look at this," he said.

9. Xie Xin En - Ran Ran Autumn Light Cannot Be Retained

Author: Li Yu

Ran Ran Autumn Light Cannot Be Retained, Full of Red Leaves Twilight.

Again, the sun is shining, and the incense is falling from the pavilion.

Purple chrysanthemum gas, floating court house, evening smoke cage fine rain.

The birds are eating the new geese and swallowing the sound of cold, the sadness of the year long similar.

10, "Chongyang"

Author: Gao Shi

The festival is so alarming that the temples are not yet blossoming, and the hedges are empty.

The hundred years will be half of the service three has been, five acres on the barren sky a end.

It is not possible to have a white coat to peel and peck, a hat from the black hat from the interjection.

They are sitting alone and scratching their heads, and the door is full of willow and crows.