1, Mid-Autumn Night
On a mid-autumn night in Jiangnan Water Temple, the moon moth is watched by the golden millet fence. The red candle shadow is almost immortal, and the emerald ring moves to see many people. The fragrant and colorful temples are condensed with blue musk deer, and the dew around Tsing Yi is mixed and renewed. Martial arts are far away in the night sky, and I don't know the way home.
Today is August 15, July 15, Mid-Autumn Festival. Mid-Autumn Festival is called Ghost Festival. Legend has it that on this day, the gate of hell is wide open, all the old friends are allowed to go home for reunion, and we can also express our thoughts on the old friends heartily on this day. Therefore, this day is also a good time to worship and remember our ancestors.
On this Mid-Autumn Festival, let's read four mourning poems for different people to express our grief.
2, Si E injustice (pre-Qin: anonymous)
It's me, Polygonum hydropiper. Artemisia argyi is a bandit. Mourn for my parents and give birth to me. I am a loser, but I am a thief. Mourn for my parents and give birth to me.
It is a pity that the bottle is used up. It is better to die for a long time than to live with fresh people. What if there is no father? What can I do without my mother? Get a shirt when you go out, and you're exhausted when you go in. My father gave birth to me and my mother bowed to me. Caress me, feed me, nurture me, nurture me, take care of me, go in and out of my stomach. The virtue of wanting to repay kindness. Heaven is so chaotic!
Nanshan is fierce and the wind is blowing. I don't care, I'm alone! Nanshan method, drifting with the wind. Everyone is in the valley, I'm not alone! Mom and dad, you gave birth to me, raised me, loved me, cared for me, raised me through hard work. When I finally supported you, you died.
I feel at a loss, such as being struck by lightning. I don't know if my thoughts and guilt can be conveyed to you.
3. butterfly lovers, hard work, is the most compassionate (Qing: Nalan Xingde)
Hard work is the most regrettable thing about the bright moon. The past is like a ring, and it has become a sigh. If the moon finally comes out, I will not hesitate to be roasted by snow and ice. Without that dust, the swallow is still there, said the soft curtain hook. After singing the autumn grave, I didn't rest, and the spring bush recognized the amphibious butterfly.
It's a pity that this round of bright moon in the sky. There is only one perfect full moon every month, and the jade Jue is incomplete at other times. I hope the full moon in the sky is full, so I will not hesitate to become the sun and melt your ice and snow.
It's a pity that we don't have such luck and fate. It's just my own unrealistic imagination. In autumn, I sang a song in front of your tombstone, and my sadness did not decrease. How I wish we could dance on the spring grass like butterflies. Now I can only tell you what I think over and over again.