Poetry in late autumn and early winter

Wang Ye in late autumn (Liu Tangcang)

Autumn makes the suburbs feel sorry for themselves, and chrysanthemums are lonely at night.

The high wind thinned the leaves with frost, and a wild goose came back with a cold voice.

After several years of famine and war, the mountain looked back at books all day.

On the way home, don't ask about the past, sing a solo and get drunk.

Drinking on early winter nights (Tang Dumu)

I am like Ji An, the governor of Huaiyang County, who is often ill. I have a glass of wine to relieve my sorrow. When I am in a foreign land, I only bring first frost with sleeves of the Qing Dynasty, oil lamps and candles.

Who will lean on the railing next year?