Qingming Poems:
One: The haggard and dusty grave looks like a relative; after thousands of years of wandering, this thing hurts the most (Note: Bingzi, 1996, the year of Bingzi) . Comment: Anyone who has read this poem and visited the grave of a loved one will surely recall this poem). Second: Bingzi Qingming: peach blossoms are pink and apricots are white, and the rain is hitting the branches and trees in bloom; pedestrians are quietly falling down, and several graves are crying and mourning (Commentary: This poem is written to describe the scene, and the scene is used to express emotions. First, write the delicate and beautiful poem Peach blossoms and apricot blossoms. The wind and rain hit the flower branches, and the flowers bloomed quietly. Raindrops, sometimes with tears in them, slipped quietly from the faces of passers-by. At this time, sadness came from several graves not far away. Sad cries. This is a scene of visiting graves during the Qingming Festival full of life. There is a hint of warmth in the sadness, which makes people admire the plainness of life and the greatness of human reproduction.) Third: Xin Ji. Qingming: God is ruthless and the most ruthless, and has no pity for the filial piety of human beings; in order to earn a small fortune, he sheds a tear and endures the Qingming rain (Note: Xinsi: 2001, the year of Xinsi. Xiaoke: The author’s modest name. Commentary: Read this poem , as if the Qingming rain is all made of the tears of the filial son. The rain blends with the tears, and the tears make the rain cold. Isn’t it the filial son’s heart that is crying when the wind blows? , the rain beats my grandma in the wind; she sheds tears every year on this day, and people pay homage to her grave every year. Fifth: The yin and yang have no way to communicate with each other, find the way and visit the graves during the Qingming Festival; a few tears and paper money turn into paper money, there is little water and wine, and no one is seen. Sixth: The grass on the side of the road is withering and business is growing, and the little fresh green leaves are withered and yellow. Even though there is no rain, I still shed tears. Grandma’s grave is next to the clouds.