I am gone in the past, and the willows are still there. Now that I'm thinking about it, it's raining and snowing. The journey is slow and full of thirst and hunger. My heart is sad, I don’t know how sad I am! ——"The Book of Songs: Plucking Wei"
The chilling cicadas are mournful, facing the pavilion at night, the showers have begun to subside. There is no trace of drinking in the tent of the capital, and the place of nostalgia is the orchid boat. Holding hands and looking into tearful eyes, they were speechless and choked. The thought goes away, thousands of miles of smoke waves, the dusk is heavy and the sky is vast.
Sentiment has hurt parting since ancient times, and it is even more embarrassing to be left out in the Qingqing Festival! Where did you wake up tonight? On the bank of willows, the dawn wind wanes and the moon falls. After so many years, it should be a good time and good scenery. Even if there are thousands of customs, who can tell them? ——Liu Yong's "Rain Lin Ling·Cicada's Sadness"
The willows in Xicheng are soft in spring, moving away from sorrow, and it is difficult to hold back tears. I still remember how passionate I was and how I once returned to the boat. What happened that day at Biye Zhuqiao was that no one was seen and the water flowed empty.
The time is not reserved for young people. I hate you for a long time. When will you rest? When the catkins are flying and the flowers are falling, I climb up the stairs. Then the spring river is full of tears, endless flow, and a lot of sorrow. ——Qin Guan's "Jiangchengzi·Xicheng Willows Make Spring Soft"
Spring in Wuyuan comes late as usual, and the weeping willows in February are not hanging silk. The ice is blooming on the riverside today, and it is the time when flowers are falling in Chang'an. ——Zhang Jingzhong's "Bian Ci"
A short canopy is tied in the shade of an ancient tree, and a staff and quinoa help me cross the east side of the bridge. The apricot blossom rain makes your clothes wet, and the willow wind blows on your face without chilling it. ——Zhinan's "Quequatrains"
It is suitable to wear light makeup and be simple and unpretentious, and Yang Gong writes that he stands tall and straight. The east wind does not understand the tourists' intentions, and only makes snowflakes fly all over the sky - "Ode to the Poplar Tree"
The willows are green and the Qingjiang River is level, and I can hear the singing of people stepping on the Langjiang River. The sun rises in the east and rains in the west. There is no sunshine but there is sunshine. ——Liu Yuxi's "One of Two Poems on Bamboo Branches"
When the poplar flowers have fallen, Zigui cries, and I hear the dragon marking the road crossing the five streams. I send my sorrowful heart to the bright moon and follow you till the end of the night. ——Li Bai "I heard that Wang Changling moved to the left and Longbiao was far away and sent this message"
The emperor of the Han Dynasty was obsessed with beauty and wanted to overwhelm the country. He couldn't get it for many years. There is a daughter in the Yang family who has just grown up. She is raised in a boudoir and no one knows her. It’s hard to give up on your natural beauty, so you will choose to be by the side of the king. Looking back and smiling, the sixth palace has no color. In the cold spring, you can bathe in Huaqing Pool, and the hot spring water will wash away your fat. The waiter helped her weakly, and it was the beginning of her new grace. The flowers on the temples are swaying with golden steps, and the hibiscus tent warms the spring night. The spring night is short and the sun is high, and from now on the king will not go to court early. There is no leisure for Cheng Huan to serve banquets, and all the nights are dedicated to spring outings. There are three thousand beauties in the harem, and three thousand people love her. The golden house is made up to serve as a charming lady at night, and the jade tower is full of drunkenness and spring. Sisters and brothers are all from the earth, poor and glorious. Therefore, the hearts of parents all over the world are determined not to be reborn as a boy but to be reborn as a girl. The blue clouds are rising from the heights of Li Palace, and the wind of fairy music can be heard everywhere. Slowly singing and dancing, contemplating silk and bamboo, the king could not see enough. Yuyang's flying dragon stirs the earth, shocking the colorful clothes and feathers. Smoke and dust arose from the Jiuzhong City Tower, and thousands of horses traveled southwest. The green flowers swayed and stopped, more than a hundred miles west of the capital. The Sixth Army had nothing to do but turned around and died in front of the horse. There is no one to collect the flowers and leaves on the ground, and the green buds and jade are scratching their heads. The king hid his face and could not save him. He looked back and saw the blood and tears flowing. The yellow leaves are scattered in the wind, and the clouds linger in the sword pavilion. There are few people walking at the foot of Mount Emei, and the flags are dim and the sun is thin. The water of the Shu River is green, the mountains of Shu are green, and the Holy Lord loves each other day and night. Seeing the moon in the palace looks sad, and hearing the sound of broken bells in the rainy night. The sky spins and the earth turns back to Long Yu. He hesitates and cannot go. In the mud at the foot of Mawei slope, there is no place where Yuyan Kong died. The monarch and his ministers looked after each other with all their clothes on, and looked eastward at the capital gate to return on horseback. After returning, the ponds and gardens are all still the same, with lots of liquid, lotus and willow. Hibiscus is like a face and willows are like eyebrows, how can I not shed tears about this? The peach and plum blossoms bloom in the spring breeze, and the sycamore leaves fall in the autumn rain. There are many autumn grasses in the south of the West Palace, and the fallen leaves are full of red leaves that are not swept away. The disciples in Liyuan have new white hair, and the prisoner Qing'e in Jiaofang is old. The fireflies in the evening palace are quietly thinking, and the solitary lamp has been used up before they can fall asleep. The night is long and the bells and drums are beginning, and the stars are about to dawn. The mandarin duck tiles are frosty and heavy, and the jade quilt is cold. Who cares? After so many years of separation between life and death, my soul never came to sleep. Linqiong Taoist priests from Hongdu can reach the soul with their sincerity. In order to appreciate the king's thoughts, he taught the alchemists to search diligently. Empty and control the energy, it rushes like electricity, ascending to heaven and earth to seek everywhere. The blue sky above and the yellow spring below fall, and both places are nowhere to be seen. Suddenly I heard that there was a fairy mountain on the sea. The mountain was in the ethereal place. The exquisite pavilion is filled with five clouds, among which there are many fairies. One of them has a character called Tai Zhen, and his skin and appearance are all mixed. Knock on the jade in the west chamber of the golden palace, and teach Xiaoyu to report a double success. Hearing that the Emperor of Han Dynasty envoys, the dream soul in Jiuhua tent is frightened. I pick up my clothes, push my pillow, and wander around, and the silver screen of beads and foils meanders open. The hair on the temples is half fresh and sleeping, and the flower crown is not neat when I come out of the hall. The wind blows and the fairy mantle is fluttering, just like the dancing of colorful clothes and feathers. The jade face is lonely and full of tears, and a branch of pear blossom brings rain in spring. I look at the king with affection, and my voice and appearance are blurry when I say goodbye. Love is overwhelming in Zhaoyang Palace, and the sun and moon are long in Penglai Palace. Looking back at the world, Chang'an is nowhere to be seen, but dust and mist. But I will express my affection for old things, and send my hairpin to the future. Leave one strand of the hairpin and combine it into a fan; break the hairpin into gold and combine it into two pieces. But the teaching heart is as strong as gold, and we will meet in heaven and on earth. I sent my farewell words again with great care, and in them I vowed to know each other. On July 7th, in the Hall of Eternal Life, no one was whispering in the middle of the night. I wish to be a winged bird in the sky, and a twig on the ground. As time goes by, this hatred will last forever.
——Bai Juyi's "Song of Everlasting Sorrow"