Li Bai's Drinking the Bright Moon Alone: From from a pot of wine among the flowers, drinking alone. No one is with me. Raise my cup, I invite the bright moon, which brings me its shadow and makes us three people. The moon doesn't know how to drink, but the shadow in front of it is behind. I have to mingle with them and enjoy the happiness of spring. The song I sing is bright and wandering, and I dance the shadow before wandering. Wake up and be happy together, and disperse after drunkenness. I am willing to stay with them forever and forget the harm of friendship, just like the Milky Way. Du Fu kept vigil in the left courtyard of the palace, flowers were covered, the palace became dark, and birds were chirping to find a place to live. In the palace, thousands of families seem to be flashing, approaching the announcement that there should be more moonlight. I didn't dare to sleep at night, but I heard the key unlock the door, the night wind murmured, and the voice of missing floated to Grelott. The next day, I had something important to do, and I was uneasy. I repeatedly asked about the geometry of the night? Climbing Du Fu's building, the flowers are as high as my window, which hurts the heart of a wanderer, because I see from this height that sadness is everywhere. The spring scenery of Jinjiang flooded in, and the clouds on the mountain, ancient, varied and changeable. The imperial court, like the North Star, will not change in the end, and the Western Hills of Kohl will not invade Tibet. However, in the twilight, I feel sorry for the sorrow of an emperor who has long since disappeared. I sang the song that his prime minister sang before he disappeared from the mountain was not a flower.
Year: Tang Author: Bai Juyi
Flowers are not flowers, fog is not fog,
It came in the middle of the night and left at dawn.
Come like a spring dream,
When they leave, they are like clouds in the morning.
Bodhisattva is beautiful
Date: Tang Author: Li Yu
Flowers, bright moon, dark cage, light fog,
Go to Lang's place tonight.
Well, socks smell good,
Holding gold shoes.
See you at the south bank of the painting gallery,
Always shivering at people.
It's hard for slaves to come out,
Teach lang to be merciful