The leaves of Shang Dynasty have fallen dry and the rain has fallen, and the autumn clothes are lying under the single cloud. ——Tang Dynasty·Meng Jiao's "Fifteen Autumn Embraces" The leaves of Shang Dynasty are drying in the rain, and the autumn clothes are lying under the clouds.
From "Fifteen Poems of Autumn Embrace" by Meng Jiao of the Tang Dynasty
It's hard to lie down alone at night, while the singing insects chirp.
Old people cry without tears, and the autumn dew is dripping.
The strength is gone temporarily like cutting, and the decline is like weaving.
There is no new heart when touching the mood, and there are lingering memories of sadness.
Nanren chases Nanfan, and the country is in the past.
The autumn moon is icy in color, and the old customers are single-minded.
The cold dew drops break my dreams, and the steep wind combs my bones.
There is a sick message printed on the table, and I feel sad in my intestines.
There is no basis for suspicion, and there is no basis for falsehood.
The tall withered tung trees sound like mournful bombs.
One foot of the moon shines through the door, and chestnuts fly like swords.
The old man was still frightened when he sat down, but the disease was still weak.
Insects are hungry for the night, and birds are in danger of burning their nests.
Widow'e was weeping while thinking about the old thread.
The fleeting years cannot be pursued, and the decline will come back in the evening.
In autumn, I am getting older and poorer, and my house is broken and has no door.
A piece of moon falls on the bed, and the wind blows into the clothes from the four walls.
A dream is never far away, and a weak heart is easy to return.
Shangba will go green and linger around for the afterglow.
There are few things to do when you are in the wild, and your illness will go against things.
I am a grassroots worm, but my business is insignificant.
The whispers in the bamboo wind can be heard secretly in the boudoir.
The ghosts and gods are so full that I can't help myself.
The leaves of Shang Dynasty have fallen dry and the rain has fallen, and the autumn clothes are lying under the single cloud.
Diseased bones can be cut off, and sore moans can also be written down.
Those who are thin are so withered, but those who are strong will fall with the west.
A thin thread of life is just a thread.
The old bones are afraid of the autumn moon, and the sword is sharp in the autumn moon.
You can't do anything with your delicate power, and your cold soul will sit in a condensation.
The female nest is in an empty mirror, and the fairy is swinging on the floating ice.
I am afraid of turning over when I startle, and I dare not push myself when I am seriously ill.
The single bed is bright and bright, and I lie down very thin and worried.
There is no water when you wash the river, and the turbidity becomes clear.
Poetry was strong in the past, but why is it declining now?
Old age and illness have many different worries, and they are not focused day and night.
Business insects cry for bad luck, and the numerous noises cannot be found.
The autumn grass is as thin as hair, and its pure fragrance is decorated with sparse gold.
When it is late and fresh, the scenery is still cloudy.
Weak practitioners are ashamed of themselves and know that they want to do anything.
Lucai is greedy at first sight, but his latent wisdom has already been deep.
Beware of depth but not exposure, this is an ancient adage.
At the end of the year, the prosperity is drying up, and the autumn wind sounds like soldiers' armor.
Weaving and weaving without clothes, just chirping to ourselves.
The sound of business rises in the middle of the night, and the jianzhi wastes its time to move forward.
Green hair is like an autumn garden, once cut it will never grow again.
A young man is like a starving flower. He cannot see again at a glance.
The gentleman is determined, but the villain will not fight at all.
If you fight too much, you will lose your life, and the way of heaven warns you of excess.
The cold dew makes us tired, and the dry wind makes us boast.
The deep autumn moon is pure and bitter. Chong Lao's voice is rough.
There are numerous bead branches and golden vines.
When the grass and trees are also interesting, the cold bloom is like the afterglow of spring.
Being born out of sorrow is nothing like my heart.
The old man changes day by day, and life and death change every day.
Sit and take a sip of peace, lie down and enjoy the empty scenery.
Short-sighted and unable to reach the door, listening to the wind and chasing the wind.
It is also like carving and cutting the shape, so as to avoid being delicate and sharp.
The waves fade away at the beginning, but the bright and happy end comes to an end.
We are friends separated by articles, but we are close friends.
The green and mint are as yellow as the year old, and the autumn burst is already poor.
The four seasons are pressing each other, and all kinds of considerations are natural.
The south is vast and the north is poor.
The nostalgia sinks into the distant river, and the decaying thoughts end in the autumn song.
It’s hard to get enough food to eat, and the leaves are so ugly.
If the dust does not straighten itself out, who will get through the ancient chants?
The secluded bamboo roars ghosts and gods, and the Chu iron gives birth to the horned dragon.
Aspirations give rise to many strange feelings, and luck is depressed due to evil intentions.
I often think of books as rags, but I will teach you the importance of death.
Don’t learn to listen to music, otherwise you will become deaf if you learn to listen to music too much.
I would like to write it as a noble statement.
The misery is getting worse day by day, and the old strength is weakening step by step.
I am often afraid of getting out of bed temporarily and not coming back when I reach the door.
A hungry person needs a piece of food, a cold person needs a piece of clothing.
There is no harm in being broad, and there is also a following in one’s posture and actions.
Loss of order in speech, causing wounds on the body.
The osmanthus is a poisonous plant, and the osmanthus damages the beauty.
As soon as the idiom loses its fragrance, it will smell bad through the ages.
Repent before you die, and regrets cannot be pursued.
What a pity that I am so frivolous that I ride with the horse all day long.
The flow of fortune is about to end, and there are signs of failure and failure.
The thorn branches are sour in the wind, and the tung leaves are high in frost.
The old insect cries like iron, and the frightened beast roars like a solitary jade.
The Shang Qi washes away the sound, and the late Yin drives away the fragrant scenery.
The gathering ears are unstoppable, and the choking gods cannot escape.
Jian walking to disperse the remaining depression, who is sitting quietly with Cao?
There is no thread to draw strength, and there are thousands of knives to cut the chest.
The Qing poet was named Tiao, and Jinju was also named Tao.
Pack up what was abandoned in the past, and complain that the present is worse than hair.
Yan Yan, who is old and quiet, is scattered and uncontrollable.
The frost gas enters the sick bones, causing ice to form on the old man's body.
The decaying hair is stabbing at each other, and the cold pain is unbearable.
The 镕镕 stretches to the Ming Dynasty, and the strong one can take control of it.
If you are thin and your body is about to break when you sit up, your heart will collapse due to hunger in the evening.
Advising people to take medicine is foolish, and their words are like seeing hatred.
The ears are shuddering and the mind is enlightened, and then you know the function.
In the middle of the day, I can see residual sores, and I can smell rope flies in the dark locks.
How cool is that, this flavor is not condensed at all.
I have no mercy for the rest of my life.
Fortunately, the frost is not far away, but winter is a punishment for turning back.
There are different times of coming and going, cold, hot and bitter.
I would like to thank you for your help, and I would like to ask for your orders.
The Yellow River falls to the sky, and all the water flows back.
People's hearts are not as good as water, and they will never come back.
It has always been a coincidence that I refused to go to Penglai.
I have been tireless, but I only heard about it in the province and Taiwan.
To endure the past without losing the past, it is easy to lose the ambition of the past.
Losing an ancient sword also breaks it, and losing an ancient harp also causes grief.
The Master lost his ancient tears and fell down at that time.
Poetry has lost its ancient heart and remains cold to this day.
The ancient bones have no turbid flesh, and the ancient clothes are like moss.
I advise you to endure the past and bear the past. In Autumn, a Selection and Analysis of the Expressive Poems
Meng Jiao lived in Luoyang in his old age and worked as a subordinate official in Yin Muzhong, Henan Province. He was poor, sick and miserable. "Fifteen Poems on Autumn Embrace" is a set of poems written in Luoyang about old people's injuries and sorrows, and the second one is the best. In this poem, the poet is immersed in the bitterness of his life, expresses the desolation and sorrow of his later years, and reflects the destruction of talents by the feudal system and the cruelty of the world.
The second poem is written from the autumn moon, which is both a rise and a metaphor for sustenance. When the ancients lived in a foreign land, the bright moon was often a traveling companion who confided in their homesickness, and a good friend who "had no intention of guessing". But at this moment, the poet feels that even Qiuyue's face is cold and cold; the "old guest" who stays with the moon - the poet himself has exhausted his life's ambition, and the situation is desolate. The word "old guest" contains the frustrations he experienced throughout his career, while the word "single" reveals the infinite emotion of being alone. The two sentences "Leng Lu" are used in a sharp and alert manner, with a double entendre and a profound meaning. The literal description clearly states that the house is dilapidated and the cold night is hard to sleep; in fact, the poet is weeping over the shattered dreams and feels chilled by the past events where his ambitions and personality have been diminished. This is the moral of these two sentences. These two sentences put a lot of effort into refining the language. For example, the word "Drip", written in dew, is a metaphor for crying, which makes the poet's depression and sadness jump out; another example is the word "comb", written in wind, which is a metaphor for memories, making readers feel as if they are seeing the poet tossing and turning in pain, both of which are appropriate and vivid. words.
The two sentences "on the table" describe illness and sorrow. "Yinbingwen" means that the person has been ill for a long time, and "turning the worry plate" means that the person is constantly worried and thinking. The second sentence of "doubt" means that it is better not to make unfounded guesses and not to listen to unfounded nonsense. This is purely self-comfort, a boring and helpless solution. Finally, a poetic image is extracted, which is also the image of the poet himself: it is a metaphor for dry tung trees. Paulownia is a beautiful material for making musical instruments, which embodies the frustration and sorrow of the poet who spent his entire life in poverty. Meng Jiao, (751-814), a poet of the Tang Dynasty. The word is Dongye. Han nationality, a native of Wukang, Huzhou (now Deqing, Zhejiang), his ancestral home is Pingchang (now northeast of Linyi, Shandong), and his ancestors lived in Luoyang (now in Henan). A famous poet in the Tang Dynasty. There are more than 500 existing poems, among which short five-character ancient poems are the most numerous. The representative work is "Wandering Son's Song". He is known as the "poem prisoner" and is as famous as Jia Dao, and is also known as "the thin island in the cold suburbs". In the ninth year of Yuanhe, he died of illness in Nengxiang (now Lingbao, Henan). Zhang Ji's private posthumous title is Mr. Zhenyao.
Meng Jiao The thin leaves have been exposed to snow for several times, and the pale flowers should be in spring. The orchid leaves are lush in spring, and the osmanthus flowers are bright and clear in autumn. The green pond is all gone, the red lotus leaves are all gone, but the lotus leaves are still blooming. Autumn leaves rustle and fall, don't ring the corner of the city! The red leaves and yellow flowers are in late autumn, and I miss travelers who have traveled thousands of miles. Green leaves and green stems, frost and snow stopped. Stop and sit in the maple forest at night, the leaves are as red as the flowers in February due to frost. Where is the fallen leaf man? How many floors are there on Hanyun Road? The rustling and falling trees are overwhelming in autumn, don't look back, under the setting sun. The moss is too deep to be swept away, and the leaves fall early in the autumn wind. The leaves are blooming and follow the shadow of the feet, and the flowers are abundant to support the heavy strips. A glass of wine in Xiangxi, the dim red leaves change. The leaves are moist, the forest pond is dense, the clothes are dry and the pillow is clear. In autumn, the trees are luxuriant and their leaves are chlorotic. There are birds on the mountain, gathering in the buds of mulberries. The green leaves and green tarsus reflect the red calyx, and I return to the Golden Pavilion with Jun Pei.