In the autumn night, candlelight reflected the screen, and Fan slapped the fireflies with his hand.
Day and night are as cool as water. Sit and watch the morning glory and Vega.
Farewell:
Fu De Gu Caoyuan Farewell
Weicheng light dust in the rain,
The guest rooms are green and willow.
I advise you to drink more wine,
There is no reason to go out of Yangguan in the west.
Border plug:
Liangzhou song
(Tang)
Wine luminous glass,
If you want to drink pipa, hurry up.
Don't laugh when you are drunk on the beach.
How many wars were fought in ancient times?
Say something:
Pipa tour
In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn.
I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music.
Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon.
We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left.
We followed the direction of the melody and asked the player's name, and the voice was interrupted ... and then she reluctantly answered.
We moved the boat closer to hers, invited her to join us, and summoned more wine and lanterns to start our party again.
However, before she came to us, we called a thousand times and urged her for a thousand times, but she still hid half of her face behind her guitar from us.
... she turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, and even before she played, we could feel her feelings.
Every string is a kind of meditation, and every note is a kind of deep thinking, as if she were telling us the pain of her life.
She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit.
She brushes the strings, twists them slowly, sweeps them and plucks them, first "Nishang" and then "Six Yao".
Big strings hum like rain, and small strings whisper like secrets.
Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade.
Between Guan Ying's words, the bottom of the flower is slippery, so you can't swallow the spring scenery and flow under the ice.
The ice spring is cold and astringent, and the strings condense, and the condensation will never stop.
The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice.
A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons.
Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk.
The east ship was silent, and the west ship was silent. We saw the white autumn moon entering the river.
Landscape pastoral:
An autumn night in the mountains
Wang Wei
The empty mountains are bathed in a new rain, and feel the early autumn at night.
The bright moon shed clear light from the cracks and cleared the fountain on the rocks.
The bamboo forest is sonorous, the washerwoman returns, and the lotus leaves are swaying to get on the canoe.
Spring spring might as well give it a rest, and the autumn sun can stay on the hills for a long time.
Nostalgia:
Niannujiao? Chibi nostalgia
Su Shi
Gone forever, the waves are rough. Romantic figures through the ages. Old camp west, people say it's the war of the Three Kingdoms, Battle of Red Cliffs. The steep rock wall, like thunder waves lapping against the river bank, waves like rolling up thousands of snow. As picturesque as a mountain, how many heroes there are at one time!
Think back to Gong Jin, when Xiao Qiao just got married, he was handsome, holding a feather fan and wearing a black silk scarf. He talked and laughed, and it's all over. I am wandering in the battlefield today. I feel a feeling heart and give birth to white hair prematurely. Life is like a dream, sprinkle a glass of wine to pay tribute to the bright moon on the river.
Chanting things:
Limestone hymn
Yu Qian
A thousand hammers hit the mountains, and the fire burns casually.
I don't care about death, I want to leave my innocence in the world.
Fable:
Charcoal seller
Bai Juyi
An old man selling charcoal cuts wood and burns charcoal in the mountains in the south all year round.
His face was covered with dust, which was the color of smoke burning, his temples were gray, and his ten fingers were burnt black.
What is the money for selling charcoal for? Buy clothes, buy food in your mouth.
Pity that he is wearing thin clothes, but he is worried that charcoal can't be sold, hoping it will be colder.
At night, it snowed a foot thick outside the city. Early in the morning, the old man drove a charcoal wheel to the market.
Cows are tired and people are hungry, but the sun has risen very high. They are resting in the mud outside the south gate of the market.
Who is that proud man riding on two horses? It was the eunuchs in the palace and eunuchs who did it.
The eunuch, with documents in his hand and the emperor's orders in his mouth, shouted at the petrified palace.
It's a pity that a car full of charcoal, more than a thousand Jin, is driven by an official to a general.
Half a horse's red yarn is a silk, which is filled with charcoal to the cow's head.
Mourning:
dirge
Ge Sheng
Ge Sheng Meng Chu lives in the wild. Who is lonely when a beautiful woman dies here?
Ge Sheng is full of thorns and vines. Who will be lonely when America dies?
The corner pillow is awkward and the brocade is rotten. Who is the only person who died in America?
Summer and winter nights. After being a hundred years old, I returned home.
Winter night, summer. After being a hundred years old, go back to his room.