1, it rains in succession during the Qingming Festival, and pedestrians on the road want to break their souls; Remember to sweep the grave when I was a child. At this time, it was Qingming; During the Qingming period, everything is alive, and the branches of red apricots are full of spring; Years are clear, I don't forget my old friends, I miss them, and I miss them endlessly; Frost on the grass in front of the grave and rain on the willow. -Li Shangyin in my heart forever
2. The weather will be cool and the vegetation will be lush tomorrow; During the Qingming Festival, I stood in front of my relatives' graves, thinking about old songs and crying. When will the moon appear in the blue sky? I'll stop for a cup of coffee and ask. Farewell to the old friend, tears have dried up, birds sing Shan Ye dreams; The residual lamp lingers at night, and tears flow from Tomb-Sweeping Day's tomb.
3, the grass and trees are dying, and the peach blossoms still laugh at the spring breeze; In a blink of an eye, spring has gone and spring has come, and it is bright and empty. -Li Qingzhao's dream; Tomb-Sweeping Day, missing ethereal, the candle light in front of the tomb is deep; There is how bright in the month, take Chang 'an as my example. -Wang Zhihuan is at the Heron Villa.
4, empty Cui Tian Bo, cold plum ink dyed Dan Xin. -Xie Lingyun's "butterfly lovers, Qingming Festival, I am going to sweep the grave"; Think before you worship your ancestors, and scan your words for life. -Zhu He's "Tomb-Sweeping Day Sleeps"; On Qingming Day, I wore a red dress and looked at the remains of the ancestral temple. There is a silver inkstone left tonight, and I am afraid that meeting is a dream.
Tomb-Sweeping Day is not common, so don't follow the crowd to buy chrysanthemums. -Wang Anshi's Poems in Summer. Every holiday season, I miss my parents, and peaches and plums are smiling, and there is only sadness in the field. Thunder stung dragons and snakes, and the original vegetation in the suburbs was soft after the rain. It's unfair for people to sacrifice my arrogant concubine and wife, but it's unfair to burn them. The sage knows who it is for thousands of years, and there are wormwood mountains everywhere.