Author Wang Wan, Tang Dynasty
We wound our way under the blue mountain,
Me and my boat, along the green water.
Until the river bank widens at low tide,
No wind blows my lonely sail.
... night now gives way to the ocean of the sun,
The old year melts in freshness.
I can finally send my messenger.
Geese, return to Luoyang.
Interpretation of vernacular:
The journey is beyond the green hills, sailing in front of the Qinghe River.
The tide is high, and the water between the two banks is wide, so sail before the wind just hangs the sail high.
The night hasn't faded, and the rising sun has already risen on the river surface of Ran Ran, and the Jiangnan in the old year has the breath of spring.
I don't know when the letter from home will arrive. I hope the geese returning from the north will take it to Luoyang.
Second, bid farewell to my friend Chen
Author Li Qi, Tang Dynasty,
In the fourth month, the south wind blew the yellow barley plain, and the jujube flowers did not fall, but the shadow was long.
The green peaks we left at dawn can still be seen at night. Go out and miss your hometown.
Interpretation of vernacular:
In April, the south wind blew the barley golden, and the plane leaves were long before the jujube flowers fell.
See you in the morning, Qingshan, and see you in the evening. Going out to smell A?vagho?a makes me miss my hometown.