Poetry describing Maple Bridge
(1)
The sound of wind and water comes at night, the fishing fires on the other side are dotted red,
The waves hit the lonely The boat is dark and cold, the oars are at my feet and I listen to the sound of drums.
To visit Zhang Gongfengqiao, I discuss my feelings over wine and poetry today. .
(2)
Listen to the rain and the willow bank in the south of the river is swaying, and the green shirt is still crossing the maple bridge.
The sound of bells in Hanshan Temple is faint, and the courtyard is deep and beautiful.
Stand in the middle of the night, thinking about the moonlight, and talk about the poems and wine before going to court.
Where is the Wutiao Fishing Fire now? From now on, we can see the tide of the Han River.
(3)
After several reincarnations of spring, the bells and drums of Hanshan Mountain are still imaginary and real.
The passenger ship was full of poetry overnight, and the traveling official sank after a thousand years of wild travel.
The sound does not diminish over time and space, and the taste is like that of the Tang and Song Dynasties.
I asked the tour guide at the lakeside: Where can I get a berth?
(4)
I met Fengqiao, a pretty girl with clear eyebrows and clear eyes.
The pear vortex smiles slightly, Liu Ling is drunk, and the rhizome is pure and virtuous.
The autumn moon expresses my heartfelt words boundlessly. The cool breeze shakes the flower bells.
The curtain hook is like meeting each other in dawn and dream, resolving lovesickness and transforming into Chu Ping.
(5)
The bamboos are green and the breeze is clear, solitary magpies can hear it, and the ancient songs of Yanqiao convey the soul of poetry.
The light boat is drunk with thousands of cups of green water, and the cold moon and frost are playing the piano.
The long night of singing is like a dream, and the end of the world chants the spring of the jade house.
The human world has been miserable since ancient times. Where can I find a close friend?
(6)
Looking for poems and visiting ancient times, I am diligent and well-intentioned. Jiang Feng greets the dusk clouds.
Who comes first in the Flower Shadow Pavilion? The fishing boat is worried that the guests will stay here.
Looking up at the thousand-year-old frosty moon, the sound of a bell can be heard across the world.
If you want to ask about the night of crows and stars, my heart will be filled with fluttering catkins.
(7)
It was already five o'clock in the morning when the showers stopped for the first time, and Liang Yuan sobered up and returned early.
Youth asks for swords in the Flower Valley, and talks about war in the hot summer at the Willow Camp.
Returning tears and crimson beads is empty, and channeling stubborn stones is in vain.
The dream of Guazhou crossing the maple bridge in ancient times, the frosty wind and the bright moon in the middle of the night.
(8)
After several reincarnations and several springs, the bells and drums of Hanshan Mountain are still imaginary and real.
The passenger ship was full of poetry overnight, and the traveling official sank after a thousand years of wild travel.
The sadness is fainter across time and space, and the environment is as exciting as Li Du's.
I asked the tour guide at the lakeside: Where can I get a berth?
(9)
The moon is bright in Gusujiang River in midsummer, and the passenger ship is sailing on Yanbozhu.
The Maple Bridge is plain with many tourists, while the ancient temple is deep and has few living beings.
The dense willows no longer look like those of the Song Dynasty, and the sparse bells still sound like the Tang Dynasty.
One thousand or two hundred vicissitudes of life, how many times of peace and how many times of war?