Military chariots·Du Fu
The chariots rattled and the horses rustled. Pedestrians carry bows and arrows at their waists.
Ye Niang and his wife saw each other off, but Xianyang Bridge was nowhere to be seen.
I held my clothes, stamped my feet, and blocked the road to cry, and my cry went up to the sky.
People passing by the road asked the pedestrians, but the pedestrians were confused.
Or from Fanghe in the north of Fifteenth, to Yingtian in the west of Fortyth.
When I left, my head was straight and my head was wrapped, but when I came back, my head was white and it was still guarding the border.
The side court bled into the sea water, and Emperor Wu couldn't help but want to open the side court.
Don’t you know that in the two hundred states of Han Dynasty in Shandong, Jingqi grows in thousands of villages.
Even if there is a strong woman with a hoe and a plow, there will be no crops in the long acres.
Kang Fu Qin soldiers fought hard and were driven away like dogs and chickens.
Although the elders have questions, do you dare to express your hatred?
And now this winter, there are still many deaths in Kansai.
The county magistrate is urgently asking for rent, where will the rent and taxes come from?
I believe it is bad to have a boy, but it is good to have a girl.
If you give birth to a girl, you still have to marry your neighbor, but if you give birth to a boy, you will have to marry her neighbor.
If you don’t see the Qinghai head, no one has collected the bones since ancient times.
New ghosts are annoying and old ghosts are crying, and the sky is rainy and wet, chirping!
It is sad that where the Qin and Han Dynasties traveled, thousands of palaces and palaces were turned into dirt. In prosperity, the people suffer; in death, the people suffer.
One grain of millet is sown in spring, and 10,000 millet grains are harvested in autumn.
There is no idle land all over the world,
Farmers are still starving to death.
Zhumen smells of wine and meat, and there are frozen bones on the road
Those who are covered with silk are not sericulture people
On the day of hoeing, sweat drips from the soil at noon Who knew that every meal on the plate was hard work