Poems related to Dragon Boat Festival?

The poems related to the Dragon Boat Festival are as follows:

1, "Dragon Boat Festival" Northern Song Dynasty Zhang Lei:

The race has been deeply saddened for thousands of years, and the loyal soul can return after it has gone.

The country died today, leaving only Li Sao in the world.

Explanation:

Dragon boat race is to deeply mourn Qu Yuan's eternal injustice. Where will the loyal soul return after a thousand years?

What can we do now that the country is ruined? Alas! There is only "Li Sao" in the world!

2, "Ji You Dragon Boat Festival" Bei Qiong at the end of Yuan Dynasty and the beginning of Ming Dynasty:

There is always sunshine in the end, and Miluo has nowhere to hang her soul.

Liu Hua should laugh at each other and wake up alone without wine.

Explanation:

Last year, during the Dragon Boat Festival, the weather was bad, the wind blew hard and it rained heavily. At first glance, it was dark. There is no place on the whole Miluo River where people can race dragon boats to mourn the soul of the ancient hero Qu Yuan.

Pomegranate blossoms like fire, as if laughing at me. I had to laugh at myself: in fact, Tao Yuanming admired Qu Yuan's outstanding sobriety even if he didn't drink; Today, although I can't mourn Qu Yuan, I still admire him.

3, "Dragon Boat Festival" Tang Yin Fan Yao:

Teenagers are more affectionate on holidays, but when they get older, they will feel sad.

It's useless, but just pray for wine and wine.

The temples add white heads day by day, and pomegranates bloom year by year.

Thousands of years of sages and fools are instantaneous, and several people are lost in several names.

Explanation:

When I was a child, I always loved to have a lot of emotions in festivals. Now that we are old, who still has the mind to be filled with emotion for no reason?

On the day of Duanyang, I was too lazy to learn the habit of hanging wormwood to exorcise evil spirits. I only wish a lamp of pu wine, and the world is at peace.

The temples are silvery white day by day, and pomegranate flowers are like red brocade, which blooms every year.

Alas, in the face of years, sages and fools are all gone. Who knows how many people are forgotten? How many people have gone down in history?