Qingming nostalgic poems

Tomb-Sweeping Day is a day to remember our old friends, and it is also a day full of sadness. On this day, even God mourned with those of us who lost our loved ones and shed homesick tears! The following is the content of ancient poems about Qingming homesickness, welcome to read!

day of mourning

Wang Songyu

Qiao Taiqing, who has no flowers or wine, tastes as bleak as a wild monk.

Yesterday, I discussed new kindling from my neighbor's house, and early in Tomb-Sweeping Day, I lit in front of the window and sat down to study.

Cold food on the grave

Song Yang Wanli

Go straight to your husband! Can this bridge be out of danger?

The maple leaves in the distant mountains are pale outside, and the broken houses are beside the lonely wheat.

The spring breeze is coming again, and all the new buildings are gone.

Pear blossoms are cold food, and it is only when you enter the festival that you are worried.

Send Chen Xiucai back to the grave in Saskatchewan.

Gao mingqi

All the clothes are covered with blood, tears and dust. Although the war is over now, I will feel sad when I return home.

In the storm, pear flower falls died, and the Cold Food Festival passed. In Tomb-Sweeping Day, several families will visit graves and be worshipped by future generations.

Chang 'an Qingming

Author: Wei Zhuang

Fleas are rainy days that hurt spring dreams, but the grass is more sandy.

At the beginning, the official gave me a clear fire, and I was given a free share of the money.

The purple stranger is screaming and screaming, and the green poplar is drawing a swing.

Tourists think of the peace incident and feel glad that the scenery is as good as before.

Fold the laurel tree to make the windows of the guest room bright.

Author: George

The ups and downs of pear blossoms, narrow curtains and clever small screens. In front of the emotional lamp, on the guest pillow, I am worried about the world.

My sorrow is as long as the old man's white hair. Fifty years have passed, just like a one-night dream of spring. When you meet someone else, the willow branches share the smoke and help the eaves.

Qingming night

Tang Bai Juyi

At night in Tomb-Sweeping Day, the breeze is blowing gently and the moonlight is hazy. The railing made of jasper and the wall made of red bricks are the residence of the governor.

Walking alone in a roundabout song, I can't hear the sound of flowers.

cold drink and snack

plum

In late spring, Chang 'an city is full of songs and dances, and countless flowers fall. The east wind of the Cold Food Festival blows on the willow trees in the royal garden.

As night fell, the palace was busy lighting candles, and smoke drifted to the house of the prince and the marquis.

Qingjiang attracts Qingming travel.

Wang Ming Pan

Where is the non-smoking section in the west building? Green fields and sunny roads.

In the willows of Ma Si, people laugh and swing, and the sound of warblers always makes Chunzui drunk.

Cold food and unrealistic hopes

Bai Juyi

The crow makes the trees faint, and the Qingming cold food cries.

The wind blows the paper money in the wilderness, and the spring grass in the tomb is green.

Pears reflect poplars, full of life and death.

I don't hear the heavy spring crying, but the rustling rain makes people return.

Qingming Festival

Huang tingjian

Every holiday season, I miss my parents, and the peaches and plums smile, and the Noda wilderness is only sad.

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.

A clever fool has known who it is for thousands of years, and his eyes are full of chrysanthemum.

Cold food is on the road.

Tangsong wenzhi

It's already on the way to late spring when I meet cold food immediately.

Poor Jiang, I can't see Luo Qiao people.

The Arctic cherishes the sage, and Nanwa is the vassal.

In the old garden, wicker is new day and night.

Qingming is the most important.

Tang Meng Hao ran

Beijing is the annual Tomb-Sweeping Day, and people naturally begin to feel sad and nostalgic.

The carriage creaked on the road, and the outskirts of Liucheng were lush.

Flowers bloom, grass grows and birds fly in pairs.

Sitting in the empty lobby, reminiscing about the past, drinking tea instead of drinking.

In memory of my brother in Tomb-Sweeping Day.

Don Wei Wu Ying

Cold food prescription is sick, and it is awkward to open the chest.

Finally, I miss the county seat, and fireworks filled Qingchuan.

Apricot porridge is still delicious, and elm soup has been slightly fried.

I just hate being a good girl, kissing my face and spending this glorious year.

Qingming Festival

Du Mu

A drizzling rain falls like tears on the Mourning Day; The mourner's heart is going to break on his way.

Excuse me, where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy pointed to Xinghua Village.