Poems about New Year's Day

1, and Yuanxi's people

king

Chang' an is 100 feet high, Zhu Lou is high, and the chicken is rewarded at night.

Chiyong forbidden jade leakage, and went to the carnival on the 9 th road.

Interview and search for three songs to choose oratorios, and all five tombs are great.

Buying a barrel of wine is as light as a drop in the ocean.

Poetry is more like words, wine is a disgrace, not pottery.

At the end of the pen, the white clouds fought strange adventures, and several people sat down to push the monarch.

Everything turned into a short dream, and ten years passed in a hurry.

Only old but sad today, Long song plays Cao Hao all day long.

2. Tian Jia celebrates the New Year

meng haoran

Bucket handle of the Big Dipper turned to the east last night and got up again this morning.

I am forty years old. Although I have no official position, I am worried about farming.

A farmer working in a field full of mulberry trees is carrying a hoe and working with a shepherd boy.

Tian said that this year's climate is abundant.

This poem is full of poetry, fresh and simple, and has the legacy of Tao Yuanming.

3. New Year in Wu Jia

Kong Renshang

Xiao Shu's white hair is not full of ups and downs, and the old-age stove actually sleeps.

Cut the candles and dry the midnight wine, and spent all the money to buy spring money.

Listen to the childlike innocence of burning firecrackers and see the change of peach blossom characters.

Add a plum blossom to the drum horn to celebrate the New Year in Lian Xiao.

4. Yuanri (Yulouchun)

Maopang

Every year, the lotus drops leak, and Bijing Tu Su sinks the frozen wine.

Han Xiao is still cheating. She is slim in spring.

Beauty urges a long life, and cypress leaves and green peppers are covered with beautiful sleeves.

Deep in my hometown, I don't know each other, but I only stay with Dong Jun.

5. Ding Mao Yuan Ri

Qian Qian B.

A bottle of wine at the age of one pays homage to the court, and young children bring clothes to comfort the screen.

I like to eat meat when I wait on my mother, but I prefer to dream about fish in 2008.

The hook curtain wants to pick up the new nest swallow, and the ink stone is also sparse.

I went to the neighboring chicken millet bureau, which has nothing to do with me.