Author Fan Zhongyan? Song dynasty
The scenery in Qiu Lai is different, and Hengyang Goose is unknown. Around, the sound of the horn sounded, thousands of miles away, and the long smoke closed.
A glass of turbid wine is Wan Li's home, but Ran Yan hasn't come home yet. Qiang tube covered with frost, people do not sleep. The general was white-haired and in tears.
Vernacular translation:
The border scenery in autumn is completely different, and the geese flying to Hengyang have no nostalgia. From all directions, the wailing of the border earth sounded with the horn, in the mountains. Twilight is heavy, the mountains are setting, and the gates of the isolated city are closed.
After drinking a cup of old wine, I miss my hometown thousands of miles away and have a lot of thoughts. I think of uneven borders, unfinished business, and I don't know when I can return to my hometown. The flute of Qiang people is melodious, and first frost is everywhere. It was late at night, and the soldiers couldn't sleep. The generals and soldiers were stained white by frost and snow, so they had to cry silently.
2. An autumn night in the mountains
Author Wang Wei? the Tang Dynasty
The empty mountains are bathed in a new rain, and feel the early autumn at night.
The bright moon shed clear light from the cracks and cleared the fountain on the rocks.
The bamboo forest is sonorous, the washerwoman returns, and the lotus leaves are swaying to get on the canoe.
Spring spring might as well give it a rest, and the autumn sun can stay on the hills for a long time.
Vernacular translation:
The empty mountain is bathed in a new rain, and the arrival of night makes people feel that it is early autumn.
The moon is clear and clear, and the clear spring is flowing.
The bamboo forest was noisy until the washerwoman came back, and the lotus leaves swayed like canoes.
The wheat straw in spring might as well let it rest, and the prince and grandson in the mountains can stay in autumn.
3. "A plum, red lotus root fragrance, autumn jade"
Author Li Qingzhao? Song dynasty
Lotus root is fragrant, and jade is lingering in autumn. Gently untie Luo Shang and go to Lan alone. Who sent the brocade book, the word geese returned, and the moon was full of the West Building.
Bloom is full of flowers and flowing water. One kind of lovesickness, two places of leisure. There is no way to eliminate this situation, only frown and mind.
Vernacular translation:
The lotus flower is exhausted, the fragrance has disappeared, and the bamboo mat is as cold as jade, showing a strong autumn. Gently take off the silk skirt and lie on the bed alone. Who sent the brocade book to the place where the white clouds curled up? It's time for the geese to line up and return to the south line by line. The moonlight is bright and soaking, and the lonely pavilion in the west is full.
Flowers, wandering by themselves, water, wandering by themselves, a kind of parting acacia, affecting two leisure worries. Ah, it can't be ruled out that this lovesickness, this sadness, has just disappeared from the frowning brow and is faintly entangled in my heart.
4. Ugly slave, the middle wall of Shuboshan Road
Author Xin Qiji? Song dynasty
Teenagers don't know the taste of sorrow and fall in love with the floor. Fall in love with the floor Worried about adding new words.
Now that I know what it's like to worry, I want to talk about it. I want to talk about it. But it is a cool autumn.
Vernacular translation:
When people are young, they don't know the taste of sadness. They like to climb high and see far. They reluctantly say that they are sad for writing a new word without sadness.
Now I have tasted sadness, but I want to say it but I can't say it. I want to say, but I can't. What a cool autumn!
5. "Meet Huan (there is nothing to say when going to the West Building)"
Author Li Wei? Dynasties and five dynasties
Alone in the west wing, the moon is like a hook. Lonely phoenix tree deep courtyard locks clear autumn.
It is sad, especially the general taste in my heart.
Vernacular translation:
Silent, lonely, slowly boarded the empty west wing alone, looking up at the sky, accompanied by a bend of Leng Yue. Looking down, I saw the lonely plane tree in the yard, and the deep courtyard was shrouded in cold and desolate autumn colors.
It's the pain of national subjugation, and it's been cut all the time. That long sadness is entangled in my heart, but it is another kind of unspeakable pain.