As follows:
1. Mourning for Xuetai
Tang Dynasty: Bai Juyi
Half-dead Wutong was old and sick, and the thought of Chongquan hurt his mind. . ?
Returning to the hospital at night with the child in hand, the moon is cold and the room is empty but no one is there.
Translation
On one side is the dying sycamore tree, and on the other side is the body that has been sick for a long time. Whenever I think of going under the Nine Springs after death, I feel sad. At night, I took my young son by the hand and returned to my hometown. No one was seen in the empty house under the cold moonlight.
2. Tomb of King Yue'e
Yuan Dynasty: Zhao Mengfu
The grass on the tomb of King E is separated, and the desolate stone beasts are in danger in the autumn. The monarchs and ministers who crossed south took light of the country, and the fathers and elders of the Central Plains looked at the flags.
What's the point of lamenting when the hero is dead? The world will be divided and there will be no support. Don't sing this song to the West Lake. The scenery of the water and the mountains is so sad.
Translation
The grass on Yue Fei's tomb is scattered and desolate, with only autumn grass and stone animals. The rulers and ministers of Nandu despised Sheji, but the elders of the Central Plains were still looking forward to Master Wang's banner. The hero was killed, it was too late to regret, and the destruction of the world was a foregone conclusion. Don't sing this poem to the West Lake. You can't sing it in the face of such a scenery.
3. Qihuai
Qing Dynasty: Huang Jingren
Several times I sat under the flowers and played the flute, while the red wall with silver and white flowers came into view. It seems that these stars are not last night, for whom the wind and dew set the midnight sun.
After all the lingering thoughts, the cocoon is drawn out, and the heartache is peeled off. It was March or May of 1935, but the glass of wine still lingered.
Translation:
Accompanied by the bright moon, playing the flute under the flowers, a beautiful encounter. Although the red wall where the beauty is is close at hand, it is as far away as the silver man in the sky. Tonight is no longer last night. The stars last night recorded the romantic story of playing the flute under the flowers, but the stars tonight only accompany me, a sad person.
There is only one lonely person who still maintains a posture of looking at the moon and thinking about it. Three or five years have passed and the good wine at that time has long been turned into bitter wine tonight.
4. To pay homage to Zhang Rou, Zhizhijun Longtu wrote four chapters of a poem about crying and placed a memorial tablet on his behalf. One of the memorial texts
Song Dynasty: Li Gang
Yipeng The two of us meet each other in the old days, sighing that your wishes have been violated.
But I drank three lychees and wet my deep clothes with tears.
Translation:
One chessboard and two shallow old phases, sighing that you have violated your wishes now. I offered three glasses of lychee wine as a memorial, and a few tears wet my shirt.
5. Drinking on the Qingming Festival
Song Dynasty: Gao Zhu
There are many tombs and fields on the north and south hills, and the Qingming Festival is different. Paper ashes fly into white butterflies, and tears and blood turn into red cuckoos.
The fox sleeps on the grave at sunset, and the children return home at night in front of the laughing lamp. If there is wine in life, you must be drunk. Never does a drop of it reach Jiuquan.
Translation
On the day of Tomb Sweeping Day, people everywhere in the south and north mountains are busy visiting graves and offering sacrifices. The ashes of the burned paper were flying everywhere like white butterflies, crying miserably, just like the cuckoo bird vomiting blood when it cries.
At dusk, the silent cemetery is desolate, except for the fox lying on the grave and sleeping. At night, the children returning from visiting the grave laugh happily in front of the lamp. Therefore, when a person has wine, he should drink it, and when he is blessed, he should enjoy it.
After a person dies, how can a drop of the wine that the children go to the grave to offer sacrifices ever flow to the underworld?