Ancient poems about the Laba Festival
"Walking to the West Village on December 8"
Author: Song Lu You
The twelfth lunar month The wind is gentle and spring is coming, and I am passing by my neighbors because of the scattered policies.
In Chaimen, the desert is filled with smoke of grass, and there are many traces of cattle on the wild waterside.
Those who are sick often need only medicine, and those who have not done anything well are idlers.
Nowadays, Buddha porridge is fed to each other, and Jiangcun Village is more innovative.
Ancient poems about the Laba Festival 2
"Laba Festival"
Author: Northern Qi Wei Shou
The cold forced the Qing Dynasty to worship , there was a banquet in Jiaping.
What is there in my heart to comfort my feelings?
Ancient poems about the Laba Festival 3
"The Laba Day"
Author: Du Fu of the Tang Dynasty
The Laba Day is still warm all year round , this year the twelfth lunar month freeze is all gone.
The color of the intruding snow is still day lily, and the spring light is revealed by wicker.
I drank too much and got drunk at night in order to seek good fortune, and when I returned home, I first came to Zichen Dynasty.
The lip fat and facial medicine follow the grace, and the green tubes and silver poppies descend from the sky.
Ancient poems about the Laba Festival 4
"Laba Porridge"
Author: Emperor Daoguang of the Qing Dynasty
Zhongda Lu in the early summer of Yiyang , millet is cooked into porridge and beans.
Offer the Buddha's arrow at the right time with a pious heart, and silently wish that the golden light will help everyone.
The fragrant fragrance floats gently, and the fruits and vegetables gather in piles.
*** Taste the best products and reach the recluse, and the recluse’s color is passed on to the lotus torch.
Children with full stomachs are beating drums in the streets of Qingzhou.
Ancient poems about the Laba Festival 5
"The Event at Shuicao An on Laba Day"
Author: Qing·Gu Mengyou
Qingshui The blood beside the pond becomes phosphorus, and the horses outside Zhengyang Gate generate dust.
As long as Shui Yue has no new hatred, he is happy to have old friends from Yunshan.
Sunny days are not as good as today, wandering around is also a rebirth.
Wandering around in vain with white hair due to self-inflicted wounds, a petal of incense disappears and tears fill the towel.