Jinling Nostalgia
Xu Hun
The song of Yushu has left the king exhausted, and the soldiers in Jingyang have joined forces and the garrison towers are empty.
There are thousands of official tombs far and near, and there are six generations of palaces high and low.
The stone swallow blows in the clouds and turns to rain and clear clouds, and the finless porpoise blows in the waves and returns to the wind at night.
Once the hero is gone, all the luxury is gone, only the green mountains are like Luozhong.
Jinling Nostalgia
Sikong Shu
The chariot road and the river are dark with maples, and the palace and courtyard are covered with spring weeds.
Sad Yu Kaifu, always serving as a minister of the Northern court.
Nostalgia for the past in Jinling
Wang Gui
Nostalgic visit to the past is a long time, and I go to Jiangcheng alone in the full moon autumn.
A bird brings smoke to leave Zhugisa, and a few sails and rain return to the boat.
The red leaves are blowing in the evening, and the miserable cold clouds are pressing down on the old building.
Who can ask about the desolation of our motherland? People’s hearts will never be more romantic.
"Nostalgia for the past in Jinling on a moonlit night" Li Bai
The moon in Jinling is green, and the imperial state hangs in the sky. The astronomical columns are there, and the hegemony flows like a river.
The green water cuts across the road, and the green pines destroy the ancient hills. There is a magpie view on the platform, but there is no Phoenix Tower in the palace.
The other halls are sad for the summer heat, and the garden is full of fun. As soon as I heard the song of the jade tree, the autumn in the backyard was desolate
Liu Yuxi's "Reminiscing about the Past in Xisai Mountain"
Wang Jun's boat went down to Yizhou, and the king of Jinling lost his spirit sadly.
Qianxun's iron chain sank to the bottom of the river, and a piece of falling flag raised a stone.
Many times in this life, the past has been forgotten, and the mountain shape is still pillowed by the cold current.
From now on, the world is home, so the fortress is Xiao Xiaolu Diqiu.
Guizhi Fragrance Jinling Nostalgia
Author: Wang Anshi
I came to see it off, it was late autumn in my motherland, and the weather was beginning to be calm.
Thousands of miles of clear river seems to be flowing, and the green peaks are like clusters.
Returning to the sail to sail in the setting sun, with the west wind at my back, and the wine flag standing slantingly.
The clouds are light on the colorful boat, the herons are rising on the stars and rivers, and it is difficult to draw a picture.
Thinking about the past and the prosperous competition, sighing at the building outside the door, filled with sorrow and hatred.
Through the ages, I have been proud of my high position, and I am full of honor and disgrace.
The old events of the Six Dynasties are like running water, but the cold smoke and decaying grass are green.
To this day, Shang Nu still sings the remaining song "Back Court".
Nian Nujiao·Jinling Nostalgia: Changqianli
Zheng Xie
The winding alley is at the diagonal corner of Chuncheng, in the shade of green poplars. The walls are made of ocher, white, green and yellow stones, and the door reflects the water of the blue stream. The drizzle plays the flute, the setting sun plays the flute, and a path passes through the peaches and plums. The wind blows the flowers and they fall, and the wind blows again.
Moreover, there are cars driving everywhere, people are busy in every house, and the scenery in Jiangjie is beautiful. In April, cherries are all over the market, and shad knives are covered in snowflakes. The Huai River is clear in autumn, Zhongshan Mountain is purple in the evening, and old horses are plowing the idle land. One hill and one valley, I will live here forever.
Zhou Bangyanxi River
Jinling Nostalgia
Beautiful land, who remembers the great events of the Southern Dynasties
Mountains surround the motherland, around the Qingjiang River, and the servant girls are in buns Get up.
The raging waves hit the isolated city in loneliness, and the wind carries the raft far away to the sky.
The tree on the cliff is still leaning upside down, don’t worry about the boat once being tied to it.
The empty space is old. The traces are lush and green, and the fog is halfway down.
The moon comes over the female wall late at night, and I look eastward at the Huai River sadly.
Wine, flags, and drums are all over the place, thinking about the city - vaguely Wang Xie Neighbors, swallows don’t know where they are.
Looking at the ordinary houses in the alleys, they are like talking about their rise and fall, in the setting sun.