Translation:
In the twilight of March, in the late spring season of Qingming, I looked despondently at the mountain side north of the city. Newly acquired fires glowed with flames of light, and new blossoms grew on the old branches of the tung trees.
I was so depressed that I was ashamed of the flowers and plants that were renewed year after year, and I was too embarrassed to invite my friends to gather and drink. I was no better than the birds of prey that fly freely from tree to tree, grooming their feathers from time to time.
Original text:
"Qingming"
Tang Dynasty: Sun Changyin
In the twilight spring of Qingming, I looked in despair at the northern mountains. The flames of the flint fire are new, and the flowers of the tung tree have sprouted from their old branches.
Shenming ashamed of years of things, feast block friends know. I'm not as good as the birds in the forest, and I'm not as good as the birds in the forest.
Expanded:
1. Qingming
Tang Dynasty: Du Mu
There is a flurry of rain at Qingming Festival, and the pedestrians on the road want to break their souls.
When I ask where the tavern is, the shepherd boy points to the village of apricot blossoms.
Translation: In the south of the Yangtze River, during the Ching Ming Festival, the rain falls one after another, and the pedestrians on the road all want to break their souls. I asked the local people where to buy wine to drown their sorrows. The shepherd boy smiled but did not answer and pointed to the apricot blossom mountain village.
2, Qingming day to wine
Song Dynasty: Gao Zhu
North and south of the hill, many graves field, Qingming festival each different.
Paper ashes fly as white butterflies, and tears stain the red azaleas.
The fox sleeps on the mound at sunset, while the children return at night and laugh in front of the lamp.
There is wine in life that must be drunk, and one drop never reaches the nine springs.
Translation: On the day of the Qingming Festival, the southern and northern mountains were filled with people busy visiting the graves. Burning paper ash fluttered everywhere like white butterflies, weeping miserably, as if the cuckoo bird was about to spit out blood when it wailed.
At dusk the silent cemetery is desolate, with the fox alone lying asleep on the grave, and at night the sons and daughters returning from the graves are laughing and joking in front of the lamps. Therefore, when a person is alive, he should drink wine and enjoy the blessings. But when a man is dead, which drop of the wine that his sons and daughters offer to the grave ever reaches the underworld?
3. Qingming
Song Dynasty: Huang Tingjian
The festival of Qingming is a time for laughing at peaches and plums, and the wild fields and barren graves are only full of sorrow.
Thunder is a shock to the sky and the earth, the dragon and snake sting, the rain is enough to soften the grass and trees in the countryside.
People beg to sacrifice their concubines and women, while soldiers are willing to burn to death.
Who are the wise and the foolish in a thousand years, and who are they?
Translation: At the time of the Qingming Festival, peaches and plums bloomed with smiles. The overgrown graves in the fields are dismal. The spring thunder rolls on, waking up the hibernating dragons and snakes; the spring rain is abundant, moisturizing the countryside, making the grass and trees green and soft.
Anciently, there were Qi men who went in and out of graves begging for sacrificial food to boast to their wives and concubines, and there was also Jie Zi Tui who refused to become an official and was burned to death by fire. Whether it is a sage or a mediocre person, who will know after a thousand years? In the end, what remains in the world is nothing more than a mess of weeds.
4, Qingming
Tang Dynasty: Du Mu
The rain falls one after another during the Qingming Festival, and the pedestrians on the road want to break their souls.
When I ask where the tavern is, the shepherd boy points to the apricot blossom village.
Translation: In the south of the Yangtze River, during the Ching Ming Festival, the rain falls one after another, and the pedestrians on the road all want to break their souls. I asked the local people where to buy wine to drown their sorrows. The shepherd boy smiled but did not answer and pointed to the apricot blossom mountain village.
5, cold food to send Zheng Qi, the minister
Song Dynasty: Yang Hui Zhi
Ching Ming Festival out of the countryside, the quiet mountain willow reflecting the door.
The water is separated from the bamboo temple by light smoke, and the road passes through the village where flowers fall in the sparse rain.
It's hard to get drunk in the cold, and it's easy to break your spirit when you're on the ground.
When I look back at my old mountain, I see that it is thousands of kilometers away.
Translation: I walked out of the countryside alone at the time of the Qingming Festival, and the lonely mountain towns were covered with green willows at every gateway. I can see the Buddhist temples in the mist, the rain on the way, the villages that I pass by are full of fallen flowers.
The weather is cold, and the thin light wine can not let me in a drunken immersion. I can see the sky and the earth from the top of the building, and it's easy for me to be extremely sad when I'm thinking about my home and my friends. I'm looking back at my home, which is thousands of kilometers away, and I'm full of feelings of separation, so I'm not going to tell them to anyone.