day of mourning
It rained a lot during my stay in Tomb-Sweeping Day.
Pedestrians on the road want to die.
Excuse me, where is the restaurant?
The shepherd boy just laughed and didn't answer Xingshan Village.
Poetry rewriting:
Qingming always gives people the impression of rainy days.
Or stormy, or rainy. From early morning to dusk, in misty and rainy Shan Ye, there are always grave-sweepers who walk again against the wind and rain, dotted with loneliness; Or in groups of three or five, helping the elderly and carrying the young, or one or two lonely shadows, one person limping. Hundreds of graves arched and thousands of stone tablets stood in the forest; Fog and rain are hazy, and grass leaves. A desolate, sad, dead silence. Pull up the grass all over the floor, put down a few glasses of cold wine and burn a handful of paper money, only to feel that my heart is full of faint sorrow, faint sorrow!
At this cold moment, I rode past on a thin horse. Thinking about the lost relatives and friends, why don't you burst into tears, and the accumulated thoughts in your heart can't be vented. I want to get drunk and forget this unforgettable acacia, but where is the restaurant? I can't find it anywhere. Just then, a shepherd boy rode a big buffalo and walked by me leisurely. I can't help asking, "Son, where is the restaurant?"
"The restaurant is in the Xinghua Village ahead."
Xinghua village, what a good name. I hit the horse and walked to Xinghua Village. Go to the place where I can forget my thoughts and taste the intoxicating poison.