There are many poems with five words and seven rhythms in A Dream of Red Mansions. It seems that Cao Xueqin is good at writing poems. Zhi Yanzhai said that Cao Xueqin borrowed a dream of red mansions to preach poetry, which made sense. Cao Xueqin is quite conceited about his poetry level. For example, in the book, Lin Daiyu once said that she didn't like Li Shangyin's poems the most, but it was actually a metaphor that Cao Xueqin didn't think highly of Li Shangyin and thought his poems were comparable to Li Shangyin's.
In all fairness, Cao Xueqin's poems have reached a certain level, but the level is limited, far from being a "poet". Cao Xueqin's poems are too petty and sentimental. However, Cao Xueqin's poems are as touching as his predecessors, even worse. The most typical one is Burying Flowers, which represents the highest level of Cao Xueqin's poetry. Excerpts are as follows:
Flowers fade, flowers fly all over the sky, and who will pity if the red disappears and the fragrance disappears?
The hair is soft and floating in the spring pavilion, and the falling wool touches the embroidered curtain.
The daughter in the boudoir cherishes the twilight of spring and looks sad.
Hoe flowers out of embroidered curtains with your hands and endure falling flowers again and again?
The pods of willows and elms come from wheat straw, regardless of whether peaches float with Li Fei.
Peaches and plums can be delivered next year. Who do you know in the boudoir next year?
When the fragrant nest was first built in March, Liang Jianyan was so heartless!
Although you can peck flowers next year, it is impossible for people to go to an empty nest.
360 days a year, the wind and sword are threatening.
When will it shine? Once you drift, it's hard to find.
Flowers are easy to see but hard to find, and those who bury them are worried.
Stealing flowers and hoes and crying alone, watching the blood stains on the branches in the sky.
The cuckoo was silent at dusk, and the lotus hoe returned to cover the heavy door.
When the blue light shone on the wall, people began to sleep, but the window was not warm.
Complaining is double the pain? Half out of pity, half out of trouble;
Flow spring suddenly to bother, and to silence.
Last night, I sent a sad song outside the court, knowing that it was a flower soul and a bird soul?
The soul of a flower and a bird is always hard to stay, and the bird is ashamed of itself without words.
May Nong have wings this day and fly to the end of the day with flowers.
After all, where is Xiangshan?
Hide the wind without a trick.
Clean up the quality, clean it up, and don't let the pollution sink into the ditch.
I am going to die and be buried, but I don't know when Nong will die.
The man who buried the flowers is laughing today, but who did he know when he buried them?
Let's see the residual flowers of spring gradually falling, which is the time when beauty dies of old age.
No sad songs for me, I don't know what happened!
This is the only poem by Cao Xueqin that can be compared with the poets in Tang and Song Dynasties.