1. "Cicada" Tang Dynasty: Yu Shinan
Original text: Drooping down the scorpion to drink clear dew, the sound of flowing water flows out of the sparse tung trees. The reason for speaking loudly and staying far away is not to borrow the autumn wind.
Vernacular interpretation: The cicada lowers its tassel-like tentacles to suck the clear and sweet dew, and the sound comes from the tall and sparse sycamore branches. The sound of cicadas spreads far and wide because they live in tall trees rather than relying on the autumn wind.
2. "Singing Cicadas in Prison" Tang Dynasty: King Luo Bin
Original text: The cicadas sing in the west, and the guests in the south are deep in thought. Unbearable to see the shadow on the temples, I came to sing to Bai Tou. It is difficult to fly in due to heavy dew, and it is easy to sink due to the strong wind. No one believes in Gao Jie, who can express his sincerity?
Vernacular interpretation: In late autumn, the cicadas outside the west wall keep singing, and the sound of the cicadas carries the melancholy of me, a prisoner, into the distance. How could I bear to endure the good years when Xuan Huan was in his prime, reciting such sad lines as Bai Tou Yin alone. The heavy exposed wings are so thin that they are about to fly, but they cannot keep their fragrance despite how hot and cold the world is. It is windy, loud, and easy to sink. No one knows that I am as clean and honest as an autumn cicada. Who can express my pure and pure heart?
3. "Cicada" Tang Dynasty: Li Shangyin
Original text: Originally, it was hard to get enough food, and I hated to work in vain. At five o'clock in the morning, I want to break up, and the green trees are ruthless. The thin official stems are still widespread, and the hometown has been flattened. Fanjun is the most alarming, and I will clean up my whole family.
Vernacular interpretation: You live on a high branch so it is difficult to fill your stomach, and your screams of sorrow and hatred are in vain when no one cares. After the fifth watch, the distant sounds have almost disappeared, and the green trees are still as emotionless as ever. My humble official position is like a drifting peach stem, and my homeland has long been barren and weeds have long since grown flat. Your cries can remind me that I am as poor as the water that washes my whole family.
4. "Huanxisha·The west wind blows on the lake at dusk" Song Dynasty: Yan Shu
Original text: The west wind blows on the lake at dusk. The clear dew at night wets the red lotus. I will stay for a long time and return to ride on horseback to celebrate the singing feast. ?Don’t say goodbye to marigold wine. When entering the court, you must be near the smoke of the jade furnace. I don’t know when the reunion will be.
Vernacular interpretation: The setting sun is shining slantingly in the evening, the breeze is blowing across the lake, and the cicadas are chirping non-stop. As night falls, drops of clear dew dot the red lotuses, which is really lovely. After staying for a while, he rode on horseback and rushed to the banquet that was about to begin. Please don't refuse the parting wine, let us drink it happily. Entering the imperial court and becoming an official is like being close to the incense in a jade furnace, which makes people feel happy. It's just that they have been apart for now and don't know when they can get together again.
5. "Linjiang Immortal: The sound of the cicadas in the evening falls in the setting sun" Tang Dynasty: Mao Wenxi
Original text: The sound of the cicadas in the evening falls in the setting sun, and the shadow of the silver toad hangs in Xiaoxiang. There is vast water beside Huangling Temple. The mangroves in Chushan Mountain are separated from Gaotang by mist and rain. The fishing lanterns moored on the shore are blown by the wind, and the fragrance of white apples spreads far away. Ling'e's drums and harps rhyme with the Qing Dynasty. Zhu Xian is sad, the clouds are scattered and the sky is long.
Vernacular interpretation: The setting sun bids farewell to the last chirping of cicadas, the silvery moon hangs high on the Xiaoxiang River, and the river beside the Huangling Temple makes waves. The mangroves of Chushan were shrouded in mist and rain, which cut off the dreams under the Gaotang stage. The river shook the lights of the fishing boats on the shore, and the white apples wafted in the distance with a strong fragrance. The sound of the waves seemed like the concubine Xiang was playing a sad song of resentment, and the mournful cry of the scarlet strings lingered in the blue sky and white clouds for a long time.