The full text is as follows:
Try your best to live a good year. What about a good year? ?
There is a poor man in Chang 'an, and I said there is no good snow. ?
The topic is "Snow", but this poem is not about snow, but about whether snow is a good omen. The quatrains are lyrical but not argumentative, and the five quatrains are extremely narrow, especially avoiding discussion. The author's preference for short words seems to be intended to create a special style.
Xue Rui is a good year. Hard-working farmers will naturally have associations and expectations for a good year when they see snowflakes fluttering. But now it is in the bustling imperial capital Chang 'an, and the voice of "doing your best and being young" is worth pondering. The word "all the way" contains irony.
In connection with the following, it can be inferred that people who "try their best to enrich their years" are people from another world different from "poor people" Dajia, a wealthy businessman who lives in a mansion in a deep courtyard and wears fur and fur, is full of alcohol, warms himself around the stove and looks at the snow all day, just saying with one voice that the snow bodes well. They may pretend to be compassionate and caring people with lofty ideals.
It is precisely because this generation "tries its best to live a good year" that the next question is cold: "What about a good year?" Even if it is really a good year, what will happen? This is a rhetorical question. There is no answer, and there is no need to answer. People who "try their best to have a good year" know it. At the end of the Tang Dynasty, the exploitation of exorbitant taxes and high land rent made farmers, whether rich or poor, in the same miserable situation.
"New silk is sold in February, and new grain is cut in May", "The grain was not exhibited in June, and the government repaired the warehouse", "The rice is ripe in front of the mountain, and the ears are fragrant. Fine and fine, like jade. The official holds it, and the private room has no warehouse. " These poems clearly answer "What's going on?" But in this poem, not telling the truth is more artistic than telling the truth. It seems to be a blow to the head, which makes those who "try their best in good years" speechless.