There are: Lu Chai by Wang Wei
there seems to be no one on the empty mountain, and yet I think I hear a voice. The shadow of the setting sun came into deep forest, and the landscape was pleasant on the moss.
xinyiwu by Wang Wei
hibiscus flowers with minced wood and red calyx in the mountains. There are no people in the stream, and they have started to fall.
after rain the empty mountain, stands autumnal in the evening. The bright moon sprinkled the clear light from the gap, clearing the fountain on the rocks. The bamboo forest is loud and clear, the laundry girl comes back, the lotus leaf jiggle want to go up and down the canoe. The spring of spring may wish to let it rest, in autumn the hills of the sun can stay long.
Wang Wei's
People are idle and osmanthus flowers fall, and the night is quiet and the mountains are empty. When the moon comes out, it surprises the mountain birds, and when it sounds in the spring stream.
a Farm-house on the Wei River by Wang Wei
in the slant of the sun on the country-side, cattle and sheep trail home along the lane. And a rugged old man in a thatch door, leans on a staff and thinks of his son, the herdboy. There are whirring pheasants? full wheat-ears, silk-worms asleep, pared mulberry-leaves. Hojo, Fu Tian, hail one another familiarly. No wonder I long for the simple life, disappointed songs are fading.
Wang Jian's "Tian Jia Xing"
The male voice is happy and the female Yan Yue, and people don't complain about saying goodbye. Summer, the wheat billowing in the grain, the summer grain harvest. The summer cocoon also had a good harvest, the eaves of the Sao car Sounds, the wild silkworm cocoon no one to receive, only to fend for themselves. A harvest of the scene, but wheat flour, cocoon woven into spun silk, the villagers can not enjoy the fruits of their own labor, and have to pay most of the grain and silk to pay taxes. In the harvest years, they did not expect to lay the grain themselves, to weave silk themselves, but to save the yellow calf from the city, and to pay the government's transverse. Tian Jia has no food and clothing, and he is happy when he doesn't see the county gate!
Zhang Ji's Wild Old Songs
The poor old peasant lives in the mountains and cultivates three or four acres of mountains and fields. Miao Shu tax can't be eaten, and the official warehouse is turned into soil. At the end of the year, hoe the plough and close the empty room, and shout to climb the mountain to collect acorns. Xijiang Jiake beads a hundred hugs, and dogs in the boat grow meat.
Nie Yizhong's "Wounded Tian Jia"
New silk is sold in February, and new grain is mowed in May. Cured the sore in front of my eyes, but gouged out my heart. I wish the king's heart would turn into a bright candle. Not according to Kirara's banquet, but according to the escape house.
Wei Yingwu's
After a light rain, many flowers are new, and a thunder is shocking. Tian Jia was idle for a few days, and farming began. Ding Zhuang is in the wild, and the nursery is reasonable. When I return to the scene, I often drink the water from the west stream. Hunger is not self-suffering, but it is gratifying. There is no overnight storage in the warehouse, and the corvee is not yet there. If you are ashamed of not cultivating, you will eat it.
Du Xunhe's Widow in the Mountain
Her husband was clinging to Pengmao because of the soldiers, and her linen and linen clothes were burnt. Mulberry and zhe waste to pay taxes, and the rural shortage is still seeking seedlings. When picking wild vegetables and roots to cook, spin raw firewood and burn leaves. If you are deeper in the mountains, you should also avoid the levy.
Wang Wei's pastoral in spring
In the house, spring doves are singing, and apricot blossoms are white by the trees. Hold the axe to cut down the poplar, and the lotus hoe the spring vein. Returning to Yan knows the old nest, and the old people look at the new calendar. When you are in a hurry, you will not be royal, and you will travel far away.
Meng Haoran's
preparing me chicken and rice, old friend, you entertain me at your farm. The green woods were around the village, and the green hills lay outside the city. Open the window and face the valley vegetable garden, hand over the glass to chat about the crops. When the ninth festival comes, please come here to see the chrysanthemum.
Du Fu's
The clouds are dusk and there are many north winds, and the Xiaoxiang Dongting is in the snow. The fisherman's net is frozen in the cold, so don't shoot the wild goose singing mulberry bow. Last year, rice was scarce for the army, and this year, rice was cheap and hurt farmers. High motor officials hate wine and meat, and this generation is empty. Chu people value fish more than birds, so you should not kill Nan Feihong in vain. I heard that men and women are everywhere, and cutting kindness and forbearance is also a matter of renting. In the past, money was used to catch private castings, but now lead, tin and bronze are used. Carving mud is the easiest thing to get, and likes and dislikes are not covered with looks. When will this song's sorrow end?
Wen tingyun's "Burning Songs"
Get up and look at Nanshan, where mountains burn mountains and fields. The reddish evening is extinguished, and the short flame is connected again. Differential rocks, Lingqingbi, Ran Ran. Low with the return air, far as the eaves are red. Neighbors can talk, but they want to die. It is said that Chu is more vulgar, and she is burned as an early field. Bean seedlings and insects promote the promotion, and flowers on the fence are used as houses. The abandoned stack is returned to the column, and the square chicken pecks the millet. The new year's spring rain is sunny, and the gods are everywhere. People who hold money are divining, knocking on the tiles to separate the forest. Bude divined on the mountain and returned to the mulberry jujube. Blow the fire to the imperata, and the waist sickle reflects the cane. Wind drives mistletoe smoke, and mistletoe trees connect Pingshan. The stars burst out of the sky, and the flying embers fell down the steps. On his back, he groaned and sneered, and the crow mother cursed the rich age. Who knows, lush, do official tax.
Fan Chengda's Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellany (I)
Plums are golden and apricots are fat, wheat flowers are white and cauliflower is rare. No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies fly.
Fan Chengda's Four Seasons Pastoral Miscellaneous (II)
The children in the village are in charge of their own affairs. Although children do not plough the fields and weave cloth, they also learn a kind of melon under the mulberry shade.