The Tomb-Sweeping Festival has a history of more than 2,500 years in our country. When the Tomb-Sweeping Festival arrives, the peach blossoms begin to bloom and the willows turn green. It is a day for worshiping ancestors, sweeping tombs, and going out to enjoy flowers. It is the sustenance of literati. A festival filled with emotions of joys and sorrows, the following is the content of poems related to Qingming, welcome to read!
During the Qingming Festival, it rains heavily, and pedestrians on the road feel like dying.
I asked where the restaurant was, and the shepherd boy pointed to Xinghua Village.
——Du Mu's "Qingming"
Translation: On the day of Qingming Festival, it rains heavily, and people traveling on the road are confused and desolate as if they have lost their souls. I asked the shepherd boy where there was a restaurant, and he pointed to the small village of Xinghua in the distance
When the swallows came to Xinshe, the pear blossoms lagged behind the Qingming Festival.
There are three or four spots of green moss on the pond, one or two oriole calls at the bottom of the leaves, and the sun is long and the flying catkins are light.
The girl next door is smiling cleverly, greeting her on the mulberry picking path
I wonder if I had a good spring dream last night, it is because I won the grass fight today, and the smile comes from my two faces.
——Yan Shu's "Broken Array: Spring Scene"
Translation: The time when the swallows flew came was the time of the community sacrifice, and the pear blossoms were flying after the Qingming Festival. The green moss on the pond is dotted, orioles are singing under the trees, and catkins are flying. On the way to pick mulberries, I happened to meet my female companion from the east. No wonder I had a wonderful spring night dream yesterday. It turned out that I was going to win the grass fight today, and I couldn't help but have a smile on my face.
During the Qingming festival, the peaches and plums smile, but the wild fields and graves only produce sorrow.
Thunder shook the sky and earth, dragons and snakes stung, and the rain fell on the grass and trees in the countryside.
People beg for sacrifices for their arrogant concubines, and scholars burn to death unjust marquises.
The wise and foolish know who they are for thousands of years, and their eyes are full of basil and grass.
——Huang Tingjian's "Qingming"
Appreciation: During the Qingming Festival, spring thunder awakens all things, and the universe brings vitality to the earth. The continuous spring rain makes the land lush with fragrant grass, and the peaches and plums are in full bloom. The desolate parts of the wild fields are cemeteries where the dead are buried. The dead sleep underground, making the living feel sad. In ancient times, a certain Qi man went to the cemetery every day to steal other people's meals to commemorate their loved ones, and he became very greasy after eating. When he returned home, he would lie to his wife and concubines and boast that he was eating and drinking at the house of a friend who was a high official, and how the host entertained him warmly. The life of such a person is meager and humble, with no personal dignity. There are also some high-ranking scholars, such as Jiezitui in the Spring and Autumn Period and the Warring States Period. After he helped Duke Wen of Jin establish the country, he did not want high-ranking officials and generous salaries, but preferred to live in seclusion in the mountains. Duke Wen of Jin wanted him to become an official and ordered the mountains to be set on fire. However, Jie Zitui refused to change his will and wanted to burn himself to death in the Mianshan Mountains holding a tree. Huang Tingjian thought of the dead in the wilderness and the value of life from the flowers blooming during the Qingming Festival. He sighed and said that although no matter how wise or stupid they are, they are all the same in the end, but the meaning of life is very different.
There are many tombs on the north and south hills, and Qingming festivals are held in different ways.
The ashes of paper fly into white butterflies, and the 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.
——Gao Zhu's "Wine on the Tomb-Sweeping Day"
Appreciation: On the day of Qingming, 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 sleeping on the grave. 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 sons and daughters offer sacrifices to at the grave flow to the underworld?
The wild tang flowers have fallen, and the Qingming Festival has passed in a hurry.
The east wind in the land deceives guests in their dreams, and a pillow of cloud screen makes them feel cold and timid.
Holding a wine cup on the curved bank, with weeping poplars tied to horses, this place was once a different place.
The building is empty and people are gone, but Feiyan can talk about the old travel.
——Xin Qiji's "Niannujiao: Books flowing eastward on the village wall"
Appreciation: The wild tang flowers are falling, and the Qingming Festival has passed in a hurry. The east wind bullies travelers on the road and wakes me up from my short dream. A burst of cold air blew towards my lonely pillow, and I felt the slightest chill. On the bank of the curved river, I once raised a glass with a beautiful woman and drank together. Under the weeping willow, I once said goodbye to my beautiful lady here. Nowadays, the building is empty and only the swallows of the past still live here. Only it can bear witness to the joy of that time.