The poem is as follows:
Cold food?
There are flowers flying everywhere in the spring city, cold food, the east wind keeps the willows from slanting.
At dusk, candles were passed around the Han Palace, and light smoke dispersed into the house of the Five Marquises.
Qingming Festival?
It rains heavily during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road want to die.
Ask where the restaurant is, the shepherd boy points to Xinghua Village.
Qingming?
On the Qingming Festival, the peaches and plums smile, but the wild fields and graves only produce sorrow.
Thunder shook the sky and earth, dragons and snakes stung, and rain fell on the grass and trees in the countryside.
People beg for sacrifices for their arrogant concubines, and scholars are willing to burn their hearts for injustice.
The wise and foolish know who they are for thousands of years, and their eyes are full of basil and grass.
Would you like to send cold food to the brothers in the capital?
In the rain, the fire is forbidden and the empty space is cold, and the orioles on the river sit alone and listen.
Wine the wine and look at the flowers, thinking about my brothers, Du Linghan eats green grass.
Renxu Qingming Festival?
The morning is light and cold and the evening is overcast, and I don’t realize that spring is deep in my sorrow.
Falling flowers shed tears because of wind and rain, and birds sing mercilessly since ancient times. ?
The country is in a dream, and Chinese figures are disappearing.
Dragon and snake return home from all over the world, and the cold food year after year makes guests feel disappointed. ?
Miscellaneous poems?
Near the cold rain, the grass is luxuriant, and the wheat seedlings are covered with wind and willows reflect the embankment.
The cuckoo will stop singing in my ears until I have found my home.
Drinking on Qingming Day
There are many graveyards on the north and south hills, and Qingming festivals are held in different ways.
The ashes of paper fly into white butterflies, and the tears and blood turn into red cuckoos.
The fox sleeps on the grave at sunset, and the children return home at night in front of the laughing lamp.
If there is wine in life, you must be drunk. Never does a drop reach Jiuquan.