2. The New Year will only deepen my desire and increase the lonely tears of an exile. People who are exiled in old age rush ahead of me in spring. The monkey came down from the mountain and pestered me. I was tortured like a bodyguard, so when will this day come? (Liu Changqing: "New Year")
The south is a wilderness, because the leaves are falling and the wind from the north makes the water cold. My home is wandering by the river, and the sea of clouds is far away. Tears of homesickness in the journey, see the back of the sail on the horizon. The smoke in the wind blurs where the ferry can be, and the vast river ripples in the sunset. (Meng Haoran: "I am pregnant in the early cold river")
4. Xian Yi, young and old, left home, and the local accent has not changed. Where do children come from when they meet strangers? (He Zhangzhi: Homecoming Book)
Monkeys whimper on the dark mountain, and the river rushes in the dark. The wind on both sides of the strait rustled the branches and leaves, and the moonlight reflected on the river, a boat on a river. Jiande's scenery is good, but it's not my hometown. I still miss my old friends in Yangzhou. Recalling those two lines of tears that I couldn't restrain, I looked at the west side of the west bank and sent sadness to Yangzhou. (Meng Haoran: "From a berth on Tonglu to a friend in Yangzhou")
6. They said that the geese flying south came back this month. Birds don't enter, but I don't travel far to Lingnan. I don't know when, when can I return home? At low tide, the river stopped and the forest was foggy, but tomorrow morning, on the other side of the mountain, the dawn will be white and there will be plum trees in my hometown. (Song Wenzhi: Inscribed on the wall of an inn in the north of Dayu Mountain)
7. I have been in first frost for ten years in the Guest House and Bingzhou, and I remember Xianyang day and night. For no reason, I crossed the mulberry river, but I hope that Bingzhou is my hometown. (Liu Zao: "Journey to the North")
8. I put away my sails near Huaizhen and found a small bay to park. Strong winds set off waves on the river, and the sun sank into the darkness of the earth. The dark people in the city all went home to rest, and the Moon Bay also lived there. Lonely at night, I can't help but think of Chang 'an. How can I sleep when I hear the bells on the shore? (Wei: Parked at dusk in the district)
9. Looking at Chang 'an, looking at Jingxian County in Heyang. The sun sets on the towering roof, and the houses in Beijing are not so high and low. The residual clouds of the sunset are scattered like rosy clouds, and the clear river is as calm as white. Noisy birdsong covers the spring, and all kinds of flowers cover the countryside in the suburbs. I will stay in the country far from the capital, and I miss the happy party that has stopped. When it's time for Danggui, I'm disappointed and tears fall like snow beads. People with feelings know that they are homesick. Who can't change their black hair? (Xie Tiao: "Going to Sanshan and Returning to Wangjing Late")
10, we meandered along the blue mountain, and my boat and I walked along the green water. Until the river bank widens at low tide, and no wind blows my lonely sail. ... the night now gives way to the ocean of the sun, and Jiang Chunren was in the old year. I can finally send my messenger, the wild goose, back to Luoyang. (Wang Wan: a berth at the foot of Beibao Mountain)
Once upon a time, there was a man who, since his youth, was sent to perform a military task and wandered on the border between Youzhou and Yan. I often compete with others at once, and I never cherish my seven feet. To fight bravely, no one dares to come forward to recruit; He has a dignified look and a beard as lush as a hedgehog. There are yellow sand and white clouds in summer, so you can't be polite without reporting to the court. A young woman in Liaodong, 15 years old, can play the pipa, sing and dance. Today, with the music of Qiangdi playing, all the soldiers were moved to tears. (Li Zhi: "Ancient Meaning")
12, Nanshan cut bamboo into bamboo poles, and its music was first introduced from Persia. It spread to the Han Dynasty and became a novel, and Aw Hoe in Liangzhou was played by me. The listeners at the seat are all sighing, and the homesick tourists weep. Many people like to listen; But few people understand that traveling in the long wind. The withered old Bai Han strolls, where there are nine little phoenixes chirping at each other. It's like a dragon singing and a tiger roaring and generate at the same time, and it's like the autumn sound of spring in autumn. Suddenly it turned into a small, tragic, sudden dark cloud that turned the sky from flying to flying. The next change is as lively and cheerful as Yang Liuzhi, as if I saw the flowers in the garden among the flowers. On New Year's Eve, Hall A on the ceiling, a glass of wine, a glass of wine. (Li Jue: "Listening to An Wanshan's cymbals")
13, the wanderer listens to the drums and the autumn geese sing. The dew turns to frost tonight, and the moonlight at home is bright! Brothers are scattered, and no one can ask about life and death. Letters sent to Luoyang city are often not delivered, and wars often do not stop. (Du Fu: "Remembering Brothers on a Moonlit Night")
14, you people from my old country, tell me what happened there! . When you pass by my window, are plum blossoms blooming? (Wang Wei: "Miscellaneous Poems")
15, getting farther and farther away from No.3 Bus Road, I have walked three thousand miles, anxious and alert. On all sides of the mountains, the snow reflected the cold night, sitting in the candlelight night, I am a stranger here. Because the farther away from relatives, on the contrary, the closer to employees and servants. That is drifting, the first day of the New Year, tomorrow morning! . (Cui Tu: "Except Night")
16, alone in the pub, I was shut in by loneliness and sadness. Recalling the cold light and returning to my hometown to recall the past; Like a flock of lost geese. The road to my hometown is too far away. I will come back at dawn, and the letter from home will not be sent to this place until next year. The Cangjiang River in the moonlight, the scenery is so beautiful, and the fishing boat is in front of my house. (Du Mu: "Stay")
17, people are only seven days in spring and have been away from home for two years. The day of returning home is behind the bird's return to the earth, but the idea of returning home has existed before the spring flowers bloom. (Xue Daoheng: "People are homesick every day")
18, I am in a foreign land, and I miss my family more every holiday. When I think of my brothers' bodies climbing high, I will feel a little regret for not being able to reach me. (Wang Wei: vacationing in the mountains reminds me of my brothers in Shandong)
19, the wall of Hanyang stands in the clouds, which is another day of my voyage. Businessmen sleep during the day, know the waves, and boatmen talk at night. Look at the white hairs on both sides of the two or three Hunan autumn hairs, especially the moon-gazing disc. My hometown has been destroyed by the war, and you can hear the sound of gongs and drums. ("Lu Lun: Sleeping at Wuchang")
At 20, the rest of the flutes flew in the dark and scattered into the spring breeze. In this nocturne, the willow is broken, and no one can afford to be homesick. (Li Bai: The Flute in Los Angeles on a Spring Night)
2 1, when the sunlight in winter becomes shorter on the elemental scale, the end of the world is frost and snow. Stark sounded the fifth watch, drums and horns rang, and stars and Tianhe danced on three mountains. Wild cries and smells of war, I saw savage fishermen and woodcutters at dawn. Sleeping dragons and galloping horses are not generals now. They are dust. Be quiet for a while. Oh, the noise of the world ... (Du Fu: Pavilion Night)