The poems that describe missing relatives during the Qingming Festival are as follows:
Poems that mourn relatives during the Qingming Festival include: "Poems for Mourning During the Qingming Festival", "Poems for Mourning During the Qingming Festival", "Mourning for the Qingming Festival", "Nanxiangzi· "Photography for the Dead Wife", "Shen Yuan", etc.
1. "Poems for the Mourning of the Qingming Festival"
Wei and Jin Dynasties·Pan Yue
The passing of winter and spring, the sudden change of cold and heat.
The son returned to Qiongquan, and the heavy soil will forever separate him.
Whoever can restrain his selfish ambitions will benefit from staying in floods.
He obeyed the imperial orders and returned to his original position.
Translation:
Spring goes to winter, cold comes and summer comes, time goes by, it has been a whole year since you left me, and layers of soil separate us forever. Who can I tell you how much I miss you? What's the use of staying at home now that you're gone? I can only reluctantly obey the court's orders, change my mind and return to my original post.
2. "Qingming"
Wang Yucheng of the Song Dynasty
Spending Qingming without flowers and wine, the mood is as dull as a wild monk.
Yesterday the neighbor was begging for a new fire, and Xiao Chuang was given a reading lamp.
Translation:
I spent this Qingming Festival with no flowers to see and no wine to drink. Losing your lonely and austere life is like a deserted mountain temple. Monk, everything seems very depressed and lonely to me. Yesterday, I got some fresh fire from my neighbor. Early in the morning of Qingming Festival, I lit a lamp in front of the window and sat down to read.
3. "Mourning the Qingming Dynasty"
Mei Yaochen of the Song Dynasty
We became husband and wife in the seventeenth year of this year.
Looking at each other is not enough, let alone a long-term donation.
My temples are already very white, but my body will remain intact for a long time.
In the end, I will be in the same acupuncture point, still crying.
Translation:
We have been married for seventeen years now. Staying with each other is not enough, let alone losing you forever. My hair on the temples is mostly gray. How long can this physical body last? I expect that it won’t be long before I share the same acupuncture point with you. Now I still have one breath left, and I shed tears every day.
4. "Nanxiangzi·Photograph for the Dead Wife"
Qing Dynasty Nalan Xingde
Throwing hot tears but silently, only regretting the past. . Relying on the heavy reflection of the painting, it is full of sadness and cannot be painted.
The other words are so clear, I wake up early from a dream at midnight. Since I woke up early in the morning, I have been dreaming, and I have been crying all over the wind and rain every night.
Translation:
Hot tears flowed without making a sound, but I regretted not cherishing your deep love in the past. I want to use painting to regain your appearance in my memory, but my eyes are blurred with tears and my heart is broken, but I can't do it no matter what. The words we said when we parted are still clearly in my ears. The sweet dream of flying together was awakened for no reason in the middle of the night, but I still seemed to be in a dream. I suffered every night, listening to the wind blowing on the iron horse in front of the eaves, and the beating of drums, and the feeling of longing came to me. In my heart, I often burst into tears.
5. "Shenyuan"
Song Dynasty·Lu You
The setting sun on the city draws a corner of mourning, and Shenyuan is not a restored pool.
The spring waves under the sad bridge were green, and it was once the shadow of a startling grand.
The dream has faded and the fragrance has faded for forty years, and the old willow in the garden has stopped blowing.
This body is walking in the soil of Jishan, and its traces are still missing.
Translation:
The sound of painted horns on the city wall under the setting sun seems to be mourning. Shen Garden is no longer the original pool, pavilion and pavilion. The spring water under that sad bridge is still green, where I saw her beautiful figure. More than forty years have passed since her death, and the willow trees in Shenyuan Garden are too old to blow their cotton leaves. I am about to turn into a handful of loess in the Kuaiji Mountains, but I still come here to pay my respects and shed tears.