Write a poem about maple leaves 1. What are the poems about maple leaves?
Poems about maple leaves:
1, Jiangling is worried about sending her son to a safe place.
Don, Yu.
There are thousands of maple leaves, and the river bridge is covered with dusk sails.
Remember that your heart is like the Xihe River, which flows eastward day and night.
2. Night berth near Fengqiao.
Don, people.
Crows fell on the moon, crowed coldly, slept on maple trees, and slept in fishing lanes by the river.
In the lonely Hanshan Temple outside Suzhou, the bell that rang in the middle of the night reached the passenger ship.
3. hiking.
Don, Du Mu.
As far away as Hanshan, the stone path is oblique, and people are in Bai Yunsheng.
Stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February flowers.
4. Listen to the flowing tones.
Tang, Wang Changling.
Alone in the boat, on the moon in Fenglin, Zheng and the guest center are divided.
The ridge color is heavy and heavy, and the string is broken and the tears are deep.
5, youth travel Lin Feng red through the evening smoke green.
Song Dynasty, Jie Jiang.
The maple forest is red and green, and the guests are full of gulls. In the past 20 years, homeless people have planted bamboo, and bamboo is still named after bamboo.
The spring breeze hasn't arrived yet, and the autumn wind has come. I only wrote my life as a song.
6, partridge day, maple leaves fall into the river, water falls into autumn.
Song Dynasty, Su Dong.
Maple falls into the river, water falls into the wild, and autumn falls. The faint smoke and rotten grass are connected with the hills in the suburbs.
Drunk sleep in Xiaowu Huangmaodian, dreaming of leaning on Hongye Building in Gaocheng.
It's a long day and a long road. Fan Song, Tang Zheng, waits for leisure.
Baqiao Liu hates every year, and Pu Yuan Furong Ye is sad.
2. Ancient poems about maple leaves
Pipa line Bai Juyi
In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn.
I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music.
Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon.
We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left.
We followed the direction of the melody and asked the player's name, and the voice was interrupted ... and then she reluctantly answered.
We moved the boat closer to hers, invited her to join us, and summoned more wine and lanterns to start our party again.
However, before she came to us, we called a thousand times and urged her for a thousand times, but she still hid half of her face behind her guitar from us.
... she turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, and even before she played, we could feel her feelings.
Every string is a kind of meditation, and every note is a kind of deep thinking, as if she were telling us the pain of her life.
She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit.
She brushed the strings, slowly twisted, swept and plucked, first the air in the rainbow skirt, then the six small ones.
Big strings hum like rain, and small strings whisper like secrets.
Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade.
Between Guan Ying's words, the bottom of the flower is slippery, so you can't swallow the spring scenery and flow under the ice.
The ice spring is cold and astringent, and the strings condense, and the condensation will never stop.
The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice.
A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons.
Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk.
The east ship and the west ship were silent, and we saw the white autumn moon entering the river.
She tied the rope thoughtfully, stood up, smoothed her clothes, and was serious and polite.
Tell us how she spent her girlhood in the capital and lived in her parents' house in Toad Hill.
She mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, and her name ranked first in the list of musicians.
Song often impressed people, and her beauty envied all the leading dancers.
How did the aristocratic youths in Wuling compete generously? Countless red silks were given to a song.
And the blood color of the skirt was stained by wine, China.
Season after season, joy followed, and neither the autumn moon nor the spring breeze attracted her attention.
Until her brother went to war, and then her aunt died, and the night passed, and the night came, and her beauty disappeared.
There were fewer and fewer cars and horses in front of the door, and finally she married herself to a businessman.
Who, first of all, stole money, accidentally left her and went to Fuliang to buy tea a month ago.
She has been taking care of an empty boat in the estuary, with no companions except the bright moon and cold water.
Sometimes in the middle of the night, she dreams of her victory and is awakened from her dream by her hot tears.
Her first guitar note made me sigh. Now, after listening to her story, I feel even sadder.
We were all unhappy until the end of the day, when we met. We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? .
A year ago, I left the capital and came here. Now I am a sick Jiujiang exile.
Jiujiang is so far away that I haven't heard music, neither strings nor bamboo sounds for a whole year.
My residence is near the town by the river, low and humid, and the house is surrounded by bitter reeds and yellow rushes.
What can you hear here in the morning and evening? ? The cuckoo's bleeding cry, the ape's sobbing.
I often pick up the wine and drink it alone in the spring morning with flowers and the autumn night with moonlight shining.
Of course, there are folk songs and bagpipes in the village, but they are rough and harsh, and they are harsh in my ears.
Tonight, when I heard you playing the guitar, I felt that my hearing was illuminated by wonderful music.
Don't leave us. Come, sit down. Play it for us again. I will write a Long song about guitar. ..
... she was moved by my words, stood there for a while, and then sat down to play her strings-they sounded even sadder.
Although the tune was different from what she had played before, all the listeners covered their faces.
But which of them cried the most? ? This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeves are wet.
Xing Shan Dumu
In the distance, there are cold mountains, oblique stone paths and people in the depths of white clouds.
Stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February flowers.
3. Poems describing autumn maple leaves
1, [Ming] Liu Ji's Songs on the River (Four Songs)
Excerpts from the original text:
It's autumn for Polygonum hydropiper and red maple, and Chu Yun is full of water.
Explanation:
Polygonum hydropiper and golden maple leaves are yellow in autumn, and the clouds in the sky of Chu and Wujiang are endless.
2. [Song] Wang Yan's "Sending Xu Wei to Baling, Jane Deng Qi is good for the king"
Excerpts from the original text:
The road in Lisao is cold, and the autumn wind is like a red maple.
Explanation:
Wherever I see it, I feel sad. The road by the river is very deserted. The smell of autumn seems to have dyed the maple leaves at the head of the river red.
3.[ Ming] Shang "Letter to Wang Chengfu"
Excerpts from the original text:
Wu Jiangfeng is cold and autumn, and he is a poor foreign poet.
Explanation:
The bleak autumn wind in Wujiang blows the maple leaves, and the geese begin to fly south. I am good at writing words. I am lonely and in a foreign land.
4, [Song] Chao Shuo "Send Fan Ba Xi Shang"
Excerpts from the original text:
Maple trees in the river head are autumn, and the king of Soochow is worried.
Explanation:
The golden maple leaves along the river indicate that autumn is coming, and the prince and grandson of Soochow are worried.
5. [Song] Gong Chao traced back to "I have a topic with my son and my brother"
Excerpts from the original text:
Autumn is beside Feng Dan, and the heart is beside the white goose.
Explanation:
In autumn, the maple leaves on the shore turn yellow and the sad geese fly south.
4. What are the poems about maple leaves?
1, Five Dynasties of "One Mountain in Sauvignon Blanc": Li Yu
One mountain, two mountains. The mountains are far away, the sky is high and the fog is cold.
Chrysanthemums bloom, chrysanthemums remain. The goose that flies high has not returned, and there is no curtain.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: heavy and overlapping mountains. The mountains are so far away, the sky is so high, the smoke and water are so cold, but my thoughts are like maple leaves and flames. Chrysanthemums bloom and fall, and days pass by. The wild geese in Saibei are flying south in the sky, but the people they miss have not come back yet. The long bright moon shines on the curtains and floats in the wind.
2. In the Tang Dynasty,' Jiang Ling's Sorrow Hope to Send Zi 'an/Jiang Ling's Sorrow Hope to Send'.
There are thousands of maple leaves, and the river bridge is covered with dusk sails.
Remember that your heart is like the Xihe River, which flows eastward day and night.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: In a sad late autumn, maple leaves float on the river. At this time, a west wind blew, and the trees all over the mountain rustled. I'm sorry to hear that, little girl. At first glance, the river bridge is hidden in the maple forest. It's already dusk, and I haven't seen my lover return by boat. I am eager to see my lover come back, little girl. Miss your lover as the water of Xijiang River, and miss him as the length of running water.
3,' Mountain Walk' Tang Dynasty: Du Mu
In the distance, there are cold mountains, oblique stone paths and people in the depths of white clouds.
Stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February flowers.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: A winding ramp winds to the top of the mountain, and there are actually several places where white clouds float. I stopped the sedan chair because I like the late autumn scenery in Fenglin. The fiery maple leaves are redder than the flowers in February in Jiangnan.
4,' Pipa/Pipa Introduction' Bai Juyi Tang Dynasty
In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn. I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music.
Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon. We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: On autumn night, I went to Jiangtou, Xunyang to bid farewell to a returning guest, and the autumn wind blew the maple leaves and reeds. My guests and I dismounted from the boat to bid farewell and drank useless music. If you don't drink well, it will be even sadder. You left, and the river reflected the bright moon at night. Suddenly I heard the crisp sound of pipa on the river; I forgot to return, and the guests didn't want to leave.
5, "Niuzhu Night Sleeping" Tang Dynasty: Li Bai.
On the west side of the river this night, there was not a cloud in the whole blue sky. I looked at the moon on the deck and thought of the old general Xie in vain.
I have poems; I can read. He hears others, but it's not mine. Tomorrow I will raise my sail and leave leaves behind me.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: boating in autumn night, moored at Niuzhu Mountain in Xijiang River, without a trace of swimming clouds in the blue sky. I boarded the boat and looked up at the bright moon, thinking of General Xie Shang in the Eastern Jin Dynasty in vain. I can recite Justin's epic poems, but unfortunately I don't have a wise general to listen to. Tomorrow morning I will hang my sail and leave Niuzhu, where only maple leaves are flying all over the sky.
5. Poems and ancient poems about maple leaves
Poems about maple leaves;
1, "Sauvignon Blanc A Heavy Mountain" Five Dynasties: Li Yu
One mountain, two mountains. The mountains are far away, the sky is high and the fog is cold.
Chrysanthemums bloom, chrysanthemums remain. The goose that flies high has not returned, and there is no curtain.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: heavy and overlapping mountains. The mountains are so far away, the sky is so high, the smoke and water are so cold, but my thoughts are like maple leaves and flames. Chrysanthemums bloom and fall, and days pass by. The wild geese in Saibei are flying south in the sky, but the people they miss have not come back yet. The long bright moon shines on the curtains and floats in the wind.
2. "Jiangling Sorrow Hope to Send to the Sub-shore/Jiangling Sorrow Hope to Send" in the Tang Dynasty
There are thousands of maple leaves, and the river bridge is covered with dusk sails.
Remember that your heart is like the Xihe River, which flows eastward day and night.
Interpretation of vernacular Chinese: In a sad late autumn, maple leaves float on the river. At this time, a west wind blew, and the trees all over the mountain rustled. I'm sorry to hear that, little girl. At first glance, the river bridge is hidden in the maple forest. It's already dusk, and I haven't seen my lover return by boat. I am eager to see my lover come back, little girl. Miss your lover as the water of Xijiang River, and miss him as the length of running water.
Maple leaf is a maple leaf, which is generally palmately divided, about 13cm long, slightly wider than the palm of an adult. Lobes have several prominent teeth, the base is heart-shaped, the leaves are rough, the upper part is medium green to dark green, the lower veins are hairy, and they turn yellow to orange or red in autumn. But a few areas are dark green.
The degree to which maple leaves turn red is related to time, drought, pollution, especially nitrogen deficiency. The red maple leaves are actually the result of maple trees responding to natural pressure. The red reaction actually acts as a sunscreen. It makes the maple leaf stay on the tree for a longer time and makes the tree absorb more nutrients. It is found that the pressure of nutrition, especially the lack of nitrogen, makes the maple leaves turn red earlier and more thoroughly.
6. Ancient poems about maple leaves
Pipa line Bai Juyi
In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn.
I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music.
Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon.
We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left.
We followed the direction of the melody and asked the player's name, and the voice was interrupted ... and then she reluctantly answered.
We moved the boat closer to hers, invited her to join us, and summoned more wine and lanterns to start our party again.
However, before she came to us, we called a thousand times and urged her for a thousand times, but she still hid half of her face behind her guitar from us.
... she turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, and even before she played, we could feel her feelings.
Every string is a kind of meditation, and every note is a kind of deep thinking, as if she were telling us the pain of her life.
She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit.
She brushed the strings, slowly twisted, swept and plucked, first the air in the rainbow skirt, then the six small ones.
Big strings hum like rain, and small strings whisper like secrets.
Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade.
Between Guan Ying's words, the bottom of the flower is slippery, so you can't swallow the spring scenery and flow under the ice.
The ice spring is cold and astringent, and the strings condense, and the condensation will never stop.
The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice.
A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons.
Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk.
The east ship and the west ship were silent, and we saw the white autumn moon entering the river.
She tied the rope thoughtfully, stood up, smoothed her clothes, and was serious and polite.
Tell us how she spent her girlhood in the capital and lived in her parents' house in Toad Hill.
She mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, and her name ranked first in the list of musicians.
Song often impressed people, and her beauty envied all the leading dancers.
How did the aristocratic youths in Wuling compete generously? Countless red silks were given to a song.
And the blood color of the skirt was stained by wine, China.
Season after season, joy followed, and neither the autumn moon nor the spring breeze attracted her attention.
Until her brother went to war, and then her aunt died, and the night passed, and the night came, and her beauty disappeared.
There were fewer and fewer cars and horses in front of the door, and finally she married herself to a businessman.
Who, first of all, stole money, accidentally left her and went to Fuliang to buy tea a month ago.
She has been taking care of an empty boat in the estuary, with no companions except the bright moon and cold water.
Sometimes in the middle of the night, she dreams of her victory and is awakened from her dream by her hot tears.
Her first guitar note made me sigh. Now, after listening to her story, I feel even sadder.
We were all unhappy until the end of the day, when we met. We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? .
A year ago, I left the capital and came here. Now I am a sick Jiujiang exile.
Jiujiang is so far away that I haven't heard music, neither strings nor bamboo sounds for a whole year.
My residence is near the town by the river, low and humid, and the house is surrounded by bitter reeds and yellow rushes.
What can you hear here in the morning and evening? ? The cuckoo's bleeding cry, the ape's sobbing.
I often pick up the wine and drink it alone in the spring morning with flowers and the autumn night with moonlight shining.
Of course, there are folk songs and bagpipes in the village, but they are rough and harsh, and they are harsh in my ears.
Tonight, when I heard you playing the guitar, I felt that my hearing was illuminated by wonderful music.
Don't leave us. Come, sit down. Play it for us again. I will write a Long song about guitar. ..
... she was moved by my words, stood there for a while, and then sat down to play her strings-they sounded even sadder.
Although the tune was different from what she had played before, all the listeners covered their faces.
But which of them cried the most? ? This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeves are wet.
Xing Shan Dumu
In the distance, there are cold mountains, oblique stone paths and people in the depths of white clouds.
Stop and sit in the maple forest late, and the frost leaves are red in February flowers.
7. What poems describe maple leaves?
The maple leaves withered late, the river was cut off, and the Chu guests returned miserably.
Looking at a river, geese sound sad; This is a cool month, and the figure is uneven.
After waking up, tears are like phoenix wax, and the wind curtain rolls gold mud.
The anvil has a high rhyme, calling back the residual dream; The fragrance of Luo decreased, which led to sadness.
The pavilion is divided into two parts, which is difficult to spell. Covering your face and guiding your clothes is biased.
Besides, I'll never see you again.
Want to send hate books, silver hooks are empty; Heartbroken sound, the jade is still hanging.
How many secrets are hidden, only God knows.
The maple forest is red and green, and the guests are full of gulls.
In the past 20 years, homeless people have planted bamboo, and bamboo is still named after bamboo.
The spring breeze hasn't arrived yet, and the autumn wind has come.
I only wrote my life as a song.
Maple is red and smoke is green at dusk. Every day, we are faced with the gulls in Tingzhou, a water town that lives and works in peace and contentment, full of exile and sadness everywhere. I love bamboo, and I have been wandering for 20 years, borrowing the name of bamboo.
The spring breeze has not yet blown out, the autumn wind has arrived, I am old, and I despise all dust. I just made my life experience into the songs of boatmen and fishermen.