Cui Hao
A long time ago, a yellow crane carried a saint to heaven, and the Yellow Crane Tower here was empty.
Yellow cranes no longer come, and white clouds no longer fly.
Every tree in Hanyang becomes clear in the water, and Parrot Island is a nest of herbs.
But I looked at my hometown, and the twilight was getting thicker, and the mist of sadness was filled on the river waves.
Climb the Phoenix Terrace from Nanjing.
Lipper
Phoenix, which used to play here, named this place after them, but now it has given up and came to this desolate river.
The path of the Wu Palace is crooked, and the golden clothes are old and dusty.
Three mountains and a half fall out of the sky, like this Egret Island divides water.
A cloud rises between the light of heaven and me, hiding his city from my melancholy heart.
Shuchengxiang temple
Du Fu
Where is the temple of the famous prime minister in a pine forest near the Silk City?
The steps are dotted with green grass in spring, and birds are chirping happily under the leaves.
The third call aggravated his state affairs, and he gave his sincerity to two generations.
But before he conquered, he died, and since then the heroes have been crying on their coats!
Denglou
Du Fu
Flowers, as high as my window, hurt a homeless man's heart, because I see from this height that sadness is everywhere.
The silk river with beautiful spring scenery floats between heaven and earth, like a cloud next to the jade peak, shuttling between ancient times and the present.
Although the country has been established for a while, it is as strong as the North Star, and thieves dare not go out of the Western Hills!
However, in the twilight, I felt sorry for the sorrow of a long-lost emperor. I sang the songs that his prime minister sang when he was not unfamiliar on the mountain.
The second of five poems about historic sites.
Du Fu
Decline: I am well aware of Song Yu's misery, romance and elegance. He is also my teacher.
Sad to see a thousand autumn, a tear, melancholy in different times, not at the same time.
His old home between mountains and rivers-empty works, empty sex platform-is certainly not imagined in the dream? !
The palaces of Chu were all destroyed, and the fishermen who showed them today are not sure.
The third of five poems about historic sites
Du Fu
Thousands of mountains and valleys are close to Jingmen, and girls grow up here.
She came out of the purple palace and entered the desert. Now she has become a green grave in the yellow dusk.
Her face! Can you imagine the spring wind? In the moonlight, her soul tinkled back.
The Tatar song on her jade guitar tells her eternal sadness.
Denglu Mountain, Mao Zedong
A mountain flew to the river and jumped into the lush four hundred whirlpools.
Xiangyang looks at the world coldly, and it is hot and windy.
A floating yellow crane is sent in the ninth heaven, and white smoke rises under the waves.
Ling Tao doesn't know where to go, but where can he farm in the Peach Blossom Garden?
Chang Zheng Mao Zedong
The red army is not afraid of the expedition, and Qianshan is just idle.
The five ridges are winding with fine waves, and Wumeng is majestic in serving mud pills.
Jinsha River is warm in the clouds and cliffs, and Dadu Bridge is cold in the iron bars.
I like the miles of snow in Minshan, and a hundred flowers blossom after the three armies.
Book Anger [Song] Lu You
Chang Sui knows that things are difficult? The Central Plains looks like a mountain in the north.
The boat crossed Guazhou at night, and the iron horse dispersed in the autumn wind.
Stuck on the Great Wall, I promised myself that the sideburns in the mirror had faded long ago.
Who can compare with a teacher for a thousand years?
Liu Zongyuan's "Don't be my brother Zong Yi";
Lonely soul and sorrow, tears cross the river.
I went to the countryside for six thousand miles and died for twelve years.
Guilin cloud is like ink, Dongting spring is like water.
Want to know the dream of lovesickness, I grew up in Jingmen.
Climb the Phoenix Terrace from Nanjing.
Lipper
Phoenix, which used to play here, named this place after them, but now it has given up and came to this desolate river.
The path of the Wu Palace is crooked, and the golden clothes are old and dusty.
Three mountains and a half fall out of the sky, like this Egret Island divides water.
A cloud rises between the light of heaven and me, hiding his city from my melancholy heart.