Take the dog after the willow to enjoy the cool, and draw a bed on the south bank of the bridge.
In the moonlight, the ship's flutes are jagged and the wind gathers lotus fragrance.
Summer Drought and Bitter Heat by the Song Dynasty poet Wang Ling;
The breeze can't kill the heat, and the sunset flies up the mountain.
People are already afraid that the rivers and seas will dry up, and they will do whatever it takes.
Qingjiangyin
Author: Qian Lin Dynasty: Metagenre: Sanqu
Kindness fell on Wan Fan,
Save it for the sad season.
Indus leaves a leaf,
For thousands of months,
There is a lot of noise.
Yu Guangzhong
The light blue night overflows the window, and summer is too full.
The firefly's dream of a small palace lantern
Dream of Tang Palace and chasing little fans.
Dreaming of a star's funeral on another summer night
Dreaming of the extension and disappearance of a moment
And your sigh, my review and a moment of silence.
Foreign poetry
Fruit and cricket
Poetry of the earth/never/never dies: when/all the birds/faint in the hot sun,
Hidden in the shady forest, there is a sound.
On the newly mowed grass/on the surrounding hedge/floating
That's/fruit music! It competes first.
Indulge in the luxury of midsummer, it never feels/
Your own happiness fades away, and once you get tired of singing,
They perched comfortably in the middle of the pleasant grass.
The poetry of the earth never stops;
In/lonely winter/night, when/cold condenses/
It's quiet. It bounces off the fireplace.
Crickets' songs, in the/rising heating,
In sleepiness, people feel/that sound.
Like a grasshopper/singing on a grassy mountain.