Poems for mourning death
(Wei and Jin Dynasties) Pan Yue
Winter and spring are passing by, and the cold and heat are suddenly changing.
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.
I look at the house and think about the person, and I think about what I have experienced when I enter the house.
There is no trace of the curtain, but there are traces of calligraphy and ink.
The fragrance has not stopped yet, but it is still hanging on the wall.
The feeling of sadness may exist, and the week is full of panic and vigilance.
Like the Hanlin bird, it only roosts twice a day.
Like a fish swimming in Sichuan, you can analyze the road in your eyes.
The spring breeze is coming, and the morning breeze is falling on the eaves.
How can I forget my sleep? My worries are accumulating day by day.
The common people sometimes decline, but Zhuang Fou can still be attacked.