Ancient poems about poverty

Poor; poor

Yuan Dynasty: Wang Jingxian

Ride the yellow crane by mistake and get a nest of swallows. In benevolence and righteousness, the sun and the moon are in the sky, and there are storms on the ground.

The yellow horseshoe crab tastes reddish, while the purple horseshoe crab is ashamed of green. The word "poor" is more valuable than the word "poor"

In the snow, it's bitter to listen to the sound of fish selling vegetables on the wall.

Author: Fan Chengda

If you dare to steal time with a reed, you must get used to the cold.

Is it impossible to sit still at home, or is it hard to stand hunger and cold?

A crow is worth 1000 yuan, and the frozen bird is hungry for a crow.

It's no use trying to make a living here.

Climb the peak

Author: Du Fu

The wind is fast and high, the ape cries sadly, and the birds are circling in the white sand.

The endless trees are rustling leaves, and the Yangtze River is rolling unpredictably.

Li in the sad autumn scenery, a wanderer all the year round, lives alone on the high platform in today's illness.

After all the hardships and hatred, the white hair is full, and the wine glasses are damaged.

The autumn wind broke the hut.

Author: Du Fu

In August and autumn, the wind roared and rolled up my three hairs. Hair flew over the river and sprinkled on the periphery of the river. The highest one hangs a long forest tip, and the lower one floats to Shentang 'ao.

The children in Nancun bully me, and I can't stand being a thief in the opposite direction and openly carrying Mao into the bamboo forest. My lips are burnt, my mouth is dry, and I can't breathe. When I came back, I sighed at my staff.

In an instant, the wind will set the color of the clouds and ink, and the autumn will be bleak and dark. This cloth has been as cold as iron for many years, and Joule has been lying down and cracking. There is no dry place in the bedside table, and the feet are numb with rain. What's the point of getting wet all night?

There are tens of millions of luxury houses in Ande, which greatly protect the poor people in the world from the spring breeze and the wind and rain! Oh! When I suddenly see this house in front of me, I will freeze to death alone!

Ciba JUNSHOU's Poems

Author: anonymous

Why is the dog barking? There are officials at the door.

Put on your clothes and go out, and the government will remember to take the money.

Ask for a date when you are poor, and you will see it when you are angry.

Take care of your family, but there is nothing you can do at home.

Thinking of borrowing it from a neighbor, the neighbor didn't say anything.

Qian Qian is rare, which makes me languish alone.