About Zhang Sheng's poem 1. The Love Poems of Zhang Sheng and Cui Yingying
There is Zhang in Tang Zhenyuan, gentle and lovely, strong and lonely inside, and arrogant.
Or friends travel to dinner, excuse me, others are aggressive, if it will be worse; Zhang is just obedient, but he can't mess around. So, at the age of 23, I have never been close to a woman.
People who know scoff and say thank you: "The lothario is not a lecherous person, but a fierce one. I am a lecherous, but I am not worth it.
Why is there still a long way to go? Those who are particularly good at everything will never forget them, and they will know that they are not forgetful. "You know.
Without geometry, I traveled in Pu and Pu Dong for more than ten miles, and there was a monk named Pu Jiu Temple, who lived in peace with each other. If there is a widow in Cui Shi, she will return to Chang 'an, go out of Pu, and stop at the temple.
Cui Shi female, Zheng female also; Zhang, out of Zheng, is a close relative and the mother of different factions. I am ten years old and I am very handsome in Pu. Some China people are gentle and not good at the army. Soldiers are anxious to lose their lives and plunder Pu people.
Cui Shi's family, with its rich property and many slaves, is a terrible tourist destination. I don't know what to entrust. First of all, it is not so difficult for Zhang and Pu to ask officials to protect the Party.
After more than ten days, the son of heaven was ordered to supervise the soldiers, and the army was justified. Zheng's virtue is so great that the Central Committee gave him a banquet because he decorated it with his life.
Then Zhang Yue said, "My aunt's orphan is still alive, and her support is naive. It's a pity that she is a teacher and pupil, but she really doesn't protect her health. How can she be more generous than Chang En? " I want to pay tribute to you as a friend. I wish I could repay you. "His son's name is Huan Lang, but he is in his teens and very gentle.
Second daughter: "Brother Bayer, Brother Hall." After being ill for a long time, Zheng said angrily, "Brother Zhang is following Paul's orders, otherwise, you will be captured. Can you recover a little further? " For a long time, even, I always hold my clothes and don't add new ornaments.
Hanging down and picking up the dress, there is only red on the face, and the color is bright and moving. He saluted because he was sitting next to Zheng.
Judging from Zheng's suppression, you will feel guilty. If you can't beat it. When asked about his age, Zheng said: "Today, in July, Jiazi turned 17 years old, and Zhenyuan was finally born.
"Zhang Ying is a bit exaggerated, but this is wrong. It's over. Zhang Ziran is confused, he is willing to let his feelings, he has no reason to get.
Cui's maid called the matchmaker, and the number of people who had private affairs was four, which took advantage. The maid was shocked and shy, but Zhang Sheng regretted it.
Wing day, the maid came back, Zhang Sheng was ashamed, thanked her, and didn't want it anymore. The handmaid said to her, "I dare not say what Lang said, nor dare I reveal it.
However, Cui's marriage and family, you know in detail, why not get married because of his virtue? "Zhang Yue:" I have been sexually incompatible since I was a child. When I lived together, I never expected it.
If it weren't for that year, it would eventually be covered. I almost couldn't control myself at dinner yesterday.
I forgot to stop and eat these days. I'm afraid I can't surpass today. If I get married because of a matchmaker and ask for a name, I will be among the dead fish in three or several months.
What did you call me? "The maid said," Cui Zhizhen be careful to protect yourself. Although what he respects cannot be violated by words, it is difficult to get into the servants' plans. However, if you are good at writing, you will often sigh and complain for a long time.
You try to confuse love poems with metaphors, otherwise there is no reason. "Zhang Daxi, write two spring poems to them.
In the evening, the matchmaker came back, handed Zhang a piece of colored paper and said, "Cui ordered it." The title of the article is "Three Nights in the Bright Moon", and its word says: "The moon is in the west wing, and the air door is half open.
The flowers on the wall are moving, and it is suspected that they are jade people. "Zhang also slightly Yu its purpose, at this time is already in the evening, there are four days from February.
Cui Zhidong has an apricot flower, which he can climb. Looking around at the night, I climbed the tree and entered the west wing, with the door ajar.
The matchmaker is in bed, and his life is shocked. The matchmaker said in horror, "Why is Lang here?" Zhang said, "Cui Shi's letter told me to go, you tell me for me.
"Soon, the matchmaker came back and said," That's it! Zhiyi! "Zhang ying is happy and frightened, and will.
2. Poems related to Lin Zhongxian
Shi Gushong (Han Yu)
I often take this picture off the stone drum and advise me to try to make a stone drum song.
Du Fu is gone. Li Bai is dead. What can my poor talent do for Shigu? .
When the power of the Zhou Dynasty was weak and people's grievances in China were boiling, Emperor Xuandi was furious and waved his sacred spear.
And open his big audience, accept all the tributes, and kings and lords come before him with sonorous weapons.
Yu Qi Yang Cheng Xiong Jun, birds and animals fall three thousand li.
This feat was recorded to inform the next generation, chiseling stones to make drums.
Poets and craftsmen, all the first steps, creation and chisel-set in the mountains.
It's raining, moxibustion, wildfire burning, ghosts guarding you. oh
Where will he find the trace on this paper? Loyal to the original, without changing a hair.
The meaning is deep, the phrase is obscure and difficult to read, and the style of the characters is neither square nor tadpole-shaped.
Time has not conquered the beauty of these letters, and the sword is sharp.
Like a phoenix dance, like an angel hovering down, like a jade coral tree with staggered branches.
Golden rope and iron rope lock Niuzhuang, like a fragrant tripod thrown into the sea, like a dragon sky.
Historians forgot to collect these ancient poems in order to make the music songs of the two books more colorful and compelling.
Confucius traveled in the west, but not to Qin. He chose our planet and stars, but missed the sun and the moon.
It's a long way to go in Xiu Yuan, and I can't help crying when I think of these beautiful things.
I remember that when I was awarded the highest degree, it was the first year of Yuanhe.
A friend of mine, who was in the western camp at that time, offered to help me remove these ancient relics.
I took a shower, changed my clothes, and then made a request to the headmaster, stressing to him the rarity of these most precious things.
They can be wrapped in blankets and packed in boxes. Ten barrels can only hold a few camels.
Like a high incense burner, add luster to the palace, otherwise their brilliance and value will increase by a hundredfold.
If the monarch shows them to universities, students can study them and decipher them without doubt.
Many people, attracted to the cultural capital, will soon gather from all corners of the empire.
We can wash the moss, pick out the dirt, restore the original surface and put them in a suitable and safe place forever.
Covered by a huge building with a wide eaves, where they won't suffer as before.
But government officials are used to it. Please be grateful to me.
So the shepherd boy beat the drums to make a fire, and the cows polished their horns on it, and no one dealt with them devoutly.
Still aging and rotting, they may be erased soon. For six years, I have been sighing for them and singing to the west.
The familiar handwriting of Wang Xizhi, although beautiful, can have several pages, only for a few white geese.
But now, eight generations after the week, all the wars are over, why doesn't anyone care about these drums?
The empire is peaceful, the government is free, poets are respected again, Confucianism and men.
Anneng is still on the list, and it really needs an eloquent flow, just like a cataract.
But, alas, my voice, in my song of stone drums, turned into a pleading voice choked by my own tears.