Poetry about highland barley wine 1 Poems about highland barley wine
Highland barley wine and flowers
Let me do it in the way of highland barley
Give off an ancient and fresh fragrance.
Open a whole grain.
The sun shines obliquely on the highland barley.
Grind yourself into golden beans
The smell of Ciba and ghee.
Mixed with highland barley wine, fragrant.
I was caught by the wine thick as honey in the air.
Get up gently, slightly drunk.
Lighter than wheat grains.
Sitting in a cabin washed by rain.
Taste the moving stars under the starry sky.
"Black Beauty" with highland barley fragrance
Listen to the blossoming "flowers" in the hometown of Tu nationality.
In the field, on the hill.
Ask each other questions and sing the right songs.
Lips in flowers answer like streams.
Singing leaves falling petals
It is full of half the boiling Qinghai Lake.
I fell into Tik Tok's poem in highland barley wine.
Holding the wings of flowers
Fly in front of the butterfly in an unfolded position.
A little tipsy.
With a little sigh and persistence
Drag the skirt of the stars into the beauty behind them
There are poems about wine in ancient poems.
Bai Juyi gave my friend Liu a suggestion: There is a touch of red and green ants' newly baked wine in the quiet stove, and there is a feeling of snow outside at dusk. How about a glass of wine inside? ? Breaking up in a hotel in Nanjing, Li Bai, a breeze, brought catkins, which made the store sweeter. Wu Ji pressed the wine and advised the guests to enjoy it.
Comrades in my city came to see me off. When each of them drank his glass, I said to him when leaving. Oh, ask this river flowing eastward, whether it can go further than the love of friends! ? Weicheng Qu Wang Wei Weicheng is rainy and dusty, and the guest house is green and willow.
Sincerely advise friends to drink a glass of wine, and it is difficult to meet their loved ones when they go out to Yang Guan in the west. Chu Guangxi, the owner of Xinfeng, has new wine, and the old guests return to the old hall.
Full of fragrance, with flowers to build the north, yingzun color pan-nanxuan bamboo. When the clouds cleared and the moon was clear, the girl in the club solved Qin Zheng.
Drunk and forgotten Baling Road, I suspected Luoyang City in my dream. William Wang luminous glass wine, if you want to drink pipa, you should urge it immediately.
Don't laugh when you are drunk on the battlefield. How many people fought in ancient times? Li Bai, a teenager in Wuling Mountain, is a young scholar, with a silver saddle and a white horse in the spring breeze. Where the fallen flowers swim, laughing into the Huji wine shop.
Uncle Bai, Xuanzhou Xielou's farewell book to the school left me yesterday, so I can't stay. People who disturb my heart today are more worried. Autumn geese are escorted by Changfeng, and I treat them in this villa and drink my wine.
The bones of great writers are all your brushes. In Tianyuan, I grew up beside you, Xiao Xie. We all yearn for the distance and want to go to the blue sky to embrace the bright moon.
But since the water is still flowing, although we cut it with our swords and raise our glasses to drown our sorrows. Since the world can't satisfy our desire, I will loosen my hair and get on a fishing boat tomorrow.
Li Bai, Lan Ling, Hakka wine tulip, jade bowl amber light. But I got the host drunk and didn't know where it was.
Drinking the bright moon alone Li Bai from from a pot of wine among the flowers, I drink 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. Cen Can old man, 70 years old, still sells wine, with thousands of pots and pans at the door.
Elm pods on the roadside are still like money. Will you pick them to sell wine? When I saw Li Shaofu off, I met him at the guest house and had a good talk. Hotels mean a lot of things, and it snows in Chu Qing. The master won't return until he is drunk.
Do you want to go home at dusk? For Wei Ba, Chu Shi and Du Fu, meeting friends is almost as difficult as meeting the stars in the morning and evening. Tonight is a rare event, and this lamp is candlelight.
Two men who were young not long ago, but now their temples are gray! It shocked us to find that half of our friends had died, which made us sad. We didn't expect that it would be twenty years before I could come to see you again.
You were unmarried when I left, but now these boys and girls are in a row. They were very kind to their father's old friends. They asked me where I went during the trip.
Then, when we talked for a while, our daughter drank wine. Spring leeks are cut in the night rain, and the morning cooking room.
My host announced that it was a festival, and he urged me to drink ten cups. But what kind of ten glasses of wine can make me so drunk, because your love is always in my heart. .
The mountains will separate us tomorrow. Who can say for sure after tomorrow? . How can I solve my troubles? Only Du Kang sings wine. What is life like? For example, morning dew, it is difficult to go to Japan ... just like the moon, when can I forget it? The troubles come from this and cannot be cut off.
-"Short Songs" Cao Cao lived like a dream. When did the moon begin to appear? I take my glass from a distance.
Flowers in the next pot of wine, no friends, drink alone. If you have wine today, you will be drunk tomorrow.
Once I thought of the sunset in Xiting, I was drunk and didn't know the way back. But since the water is still flowing, although we cut it with our swords and raise our glasses to drown our sorrows.
Open the window facing the valley vegetable garden and pass the glass to talk about crops. The meaning of drunkenness is not wine, but also between mountains and rivers.
For every bosom friend, it is a few glasses of wine, and for lovers, it is more than half a sentence. The road stinks with wine and freezes to death. Jiangnan, the sound of green and red flowers, the waterside village in the foothills.
And the blood color of the skirt was stained by wine. Who knows where I am when I am awake tonight? There is a breeze and a waning moon on the bank of Yangliu.
Gold and white walls buy songs and laugh, and get drunk. -Li Bai's "Recalling the Past and Visiting the County to Join the Army" Chu Lan did not admire Wu Gou and took the wine city head to bid farewell to the old tour.
I am old, so I want to bring my bow and arrow to the ice. -Lu Yin's "Chang 'an Relatives" poem is strange to the enemy, and the wine is cooked and sealed.
-Gao Pian's "Appreciating Li Di in Rhyme" turned Jiushen Pill to win wine? Pentaphone music is not like poetry. -Dugou River's "White Hair" was deprived of everything except wine and poetry.
-The platform of Bai Juyi's Ode to the Comrades in the Restaurant was full of troubles and worries, so he wrote the Song of Liangyuan on the wine. -"Liang Yuanyin" also fell four or five times and recited "Tiger Words".
-"Lucheng North Looking for Fan Jushi Lost his Way, Seeing Fan Buying Wine and Picking Xanthium" lanling wine tulips, jade bowls filled with tiger pearls. But the host can get drunk and not know where he is.
-"Guest Works" is a poem in the wine for 30 years, and things are abrupt. (paragraph "Crying") Fan Zhongyan > A glass of turbid wine went home to Wan Li, but it didn't return home, and it rang all around. In the midst of thousands of difficulties and dangers, the long smoke is lonely and beautiful.
I advise you to drink more wine. The sun rises in the west for no reason. -Wang Wei sent two messengers to Xi 'an to sing my songs, drink my wine and start my home on that green spring day.
-Du Fu's "The banks of the Yellow River were recaptured by the imperial army" But we drink to the guests who returned from the camp and play the barbarian's pipa, guitar and harp for him. -Cen Can's "Bai Xuege Farewell to Tian Shuji Wu's Home" costs pure wine, with a golden cup of 10,000 copper and a hip flask, and the tracts are mellow and generous.
-Li Bai's "It's hard to spend the morning in spring, but it's hard to walk on a moonlit night". I often pick up the wine and drink it alone. -Bai Juyi's "Pipa Travel" listened to a song of yours today, and temporarily relied on the spirit of a glass of wine.
-Liu Yuxi's "Appreciating Lotte Yangzhou Gift" has a glass of wine late, and the owner offers a long life. -Li He's "Wine", across the spring-wine, while it warms me up, I will remind you how to gamble, where we roll the dice in groups under the crimson lamp.
-Li Shangyin "Untitled" Let's open your window on the garden and talk about Sang Ma with a cup in hand. -Meng Haoran's "Passing the Old Village" does not laugh at farmers' wine and wine, but stays in a good time.
-Lu You's "Mountain Creek Village Trip" Wan Li had a glass of turbid wine at home, but Ran Yan didn't lose his mind. -Fan Zhongyan's "Fisherman's Pride" listened to wine several times and woke up drunk at noon.
-Zhang Xian's "Fairy" advises you to bring wine to the sunset and leave a night in the flowers. -Song Qi's "Jade Tower Spring" dream, the balcony is locked high, and the curtains are hung after drinking.
-Yan "Linjiang Xian" When will there be a bright moon? Ask about Sky Wine. -Where did Su Shi's "Water Tune" wake up tonight? There is a breeze and a waning moon on the bank of Yangliu.
-Liu Yong's Singin' in the Rain, three cups and two glasses of wine. How could it be that he came late and the wind was urgent? -Li Qingzhao's "Slow Voice".
3. What are the ancient poems about "highland barley"?
Tao Min Road-What scenery came from the west in the Ming Dynasty, and the depression believed in the distance.
Shuiqiang tribe, the mountain is definitely Han Chinese. A few barley grains are ripe, and I am deeply worried about the injury of white rain.
Who will defend this deserted city with ten rooms and nine dead people? 1. Historical legends about highland barley: Tibetans have a myth about the origin of highland barley seeds, which tells the story of A Qiu, a clever, brave and kind prince in ancient times. In order to let people have food, he finally stole highland barley seeds from the snake king with the help of the mountain god.
Unfortunately, the snake king found out and punished him to become a dog. Only by getting the love of girls can we restore our human form.
Later, the dog really won the love of a girl and found himself. Because of their hard sowing and farming, the land is covered with highland barley.
From then on, people began to eat delicious Baba. Because people see a dog sowing barley seeds and growing golden grains, they think it is highland barley brought to them by God dogs.
In order to thank it, when people harvest highland barley and eat new highland barley, they first pinch a ball of rice cake for dogs to eat. From this myth, it reflects people's enthusiastic praise for the heroes who have made contributions to mankind, and also reflects the process that in ancient times, after dogs became domestic animals, they ran around Shan Ye during hunting, and the seeds of wild plants stuck on them and scattered near people's homes, and were found to breed this crop when they grew up.
Second, the poem about highland barley: "Highland barley wine and flowers" let me exude an ancient and fresh fragrance in the way of highland barley, standing on the highland barley with a full sunshine and grinding myself into golden beans. The taste of glutinous rice and ghee is mixed with the original highland barley wine, which is fragrant. I was gently lifted by the air full of wine like honey. I drank a small cup of highland barley, sat in a water house washed by rain, and tasted the "black beauty" and the fragrance of highland barley. I listened to the "flowers" in the hometown of Tu nationality in the fields and questioned each other on the hills. The lips in the flowers answer each other like a stream, and the falling petals are scattered over most of the boiling Qinghai Lake. I fell into highland barley wine, shook my poem, held the wings of flowers and flew to the butterfly. Some of them are a little drunk and sigh.