The poems in memory of deceased relatives are as follows:
1. Ten years of life and death are so vast that they cannot be forgotten without thinking about them. Thousands of miles of lonely tomb, no place to speak of desolation.
2. Sitting idle and grieving for the king is also grieving for oneself. How many years are there?
3. Everything will go wrong if you go through the gate again. We came together and returned home differently. After the parasol trees were half dead and the frost cleared, the white-headed mandarin ducks flew away without their companions.
4. The grass on the original plain is exposed to the first light. The old habitat and the new ridge are both close to each other. Lying on an empty bed listening to the rain outside the south window, who will stay up late at night to mend clothes?
5. I cried longing for my loved ones all night long, but they are gone again at dawn. Afraid of hurting my motherly love, I secretly flow to my pillow.
6. Only hatred turns to boredom. The flowers are still falling at the fifth watch. Withering poplar leaves are hard to cut off, and the cold rain and wind are blowing across the painted bridge.
7. Same acupoint? No matter what, his fate will be even more difficult to predict. But I will keep my eyes open all night long to repay you for not raising my eyebrows in my life.
8. In the past, we joked about the things behind us, but now they are all happening before our eyes. The clothes have been worn, but the needle and thread are still there.
9. The geese flying south of the moon, the rumor ends here. My journey has not ended yet, when will I come back? The river is still and the tide is beginning to fall, and the forest is dim and miasma. In the Ming Dynasty, when you look at your hometown, you should see Longtou plum.
10. Xie Gong loves girls the most, so he marries Qian Lou and is a good boy. I have no clothes to search for a bag of watermelon, and he is selling wine and pulling out gold hairpins.
11. It is not as dusty as the night platform, deserted and a place of sorrow.
12. The dream has faded and the fragrance has faded for forty years, and the old willow in the garden has stopped blowing.
13. In Ji Sou’s Huangquan, old spring should be brewed.
14. I shed tears but made no sound. I only regretted my past kindness and relied on my paintings to reflect on my knowledge.
15. If a branch is broken off, there is no one in the world or heaven who can send it!
16. Crows roost on the white trees in the courtyard, and the cold dew wets the sweet-scented osmanthus silently. This moon is full of people, I don’t know who is missing in autumn.