Praise music in Tang poetry

1, pipa hanging

Bai Juyi

In the tenth year of Yuanhe, he moved to Sima, Jiujiang County. Next autumn, he will send guests to Songpukou and play the piano in the middle of the night. Listen to its voice, there is the voice of Kyoto. Asked male, Ben Chang 'an advocates women, learns the pipa from the old and faded Mu and Cao, and devotes himself to being a good girl. He ordered the winemaker to play a few tunes quickly. Quba Ran Min. Talking about happy things when I was young; Today, I am wandering and haggard, and I am wandering between rivers and lakes. I have been an official for two years, and I feel very at ease. I feel that I have moved away from home. Because of the long sentences, the songs are given to them. Every 6 12 word is called Pipa Xing.

In the evening, I bid farewell to a guest on Xunyang River. Maple leaves and mature rushes rustle in autumn.

I, the host, have dismounted, my guest has boarded his boat, and we raise our cups, hoping to drink-but, alas, there is no music.

Although we drank a lot of wine, we were not happy. When we were leaving each other, the river mysteriously widened in the direction of the full moon.

We heard a sudden sound, a guitar crossed the water, the host forgot to go home and the guests left.

We followed the direction of the melody and asked the player's name, and the voice was interrupted ... and then she reluctantly answered.

We moved the boat closer to hers, invited her to join us, and summoned more wine and lanterns to start our party again.

However, before she came to us, we called a thousand times and urged her for a thousand times, but she still hid half of her face behind her guitar from us.

... she turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, and even before she played, we could feel her feelings.

Every string is thought-provoking, and every note is thought-provoking. It seems that he has been frustrated all his life.

She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit.

She brushed the strings, slowly twisted, swept and plucked, first the air in the rainbow skirt, then the six small ones.

Big strings hum like rain, and small strings whisper like secrets.

Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade.

Between Guan Ying's words, the bottom of the flower is slippery, and spring water flows along the beach.

By checking its cold touch, this string seems to be broken, as if it can't pass; And notes, fade away.

The depth of sadness and the hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice.

A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons.

Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk.

The east ship was silent, and the west ship was silent. We saw the white autumn moon entering the river.

She tied it thoughtfully on the rope, stood up and smoothed her clothes, serious and polite.

Tell us how she spent her girlhood in the capital and lived in her parents' house in Toad Hill.

She mastered the guitar at the age of thirteen, and her name ranked first in the list of musicians.

Song often teaches excellent talents, and her beauty is the envy of all the leading dancers.

How did the aristocratic youths in Wuling compete generously? Countless red silks were given to a song.

The silver comb inlaid with shells was broken by her rhythm, and the bloody skirt was stained with wine.

Season after season, joy followed, and neither the autumn moon nor the spring breeze attracted her attention.

Until her brother went to war, and then her aunt died, and the night passed, and the night came, and her beauty disappeared.

There were fewer and fewer cars and horses in front of the door, and finally she married herself to a businessman.

Who, first of all, stole money, accidentally left her and went to Fuliang to buy tea a month ago.

She has been taking care of an empty boat in the estuary, and it is very cold around the boat.

Sometimes in the middle of the night, she dreams of her victory and is awakened from her dream by her hot tears.

Her first guitar note made me sigh. Now, after listening to her story, I feel even sadder.

We were all unhappy until the end of the day, when we met. We understand. What is the relationship between acquaintances? !

A year ago, I left the capital and came here. Now I am a sick Jiujiang exile.

Jiujiang is so far away that I haven't heard music, neither strings nor bamboo sounds for a whole year.

I live in a low humidity area near Kankou, surrounded by bitter reeds and yellow rushes.

What can you hear here in the morning and evening? The cuckoo's bleeding cry, the ape's sobbing.

I often pick up the wine and drink it alone in the spring morning with flowers and the autumn night with moonlight shining.

Of course, there are folk songs and bagpipes in the village, but they are rough and harsh, and they are harsh in my ears.

Tonight, when I heard you playing the guitar, I felt that my hearing was illuminated by wonderful music.

Don't leave us. Come, sit down. Play it for us again. I will write a Long song about guitar. ..

... she was moved by my words, stood there for a while, and then sat down to play her strings-they sounded even sadder.

Although the tune was different from what she had played before, all the listeners covered their faces.

But which of them cried the most? ? This Jiujiang official. My blue sleeves are wet.

2. Listen to Ying Shi playing the piano

Han Yu

Just like a pair of close children whispering, I had a dark conversation with two beautiful friends, the secretary.

Like the wind, who is singing the flag? A soldier likes to fight the king with his sword.

Clouds and catkins have no roots,

The world is wide and far away.

There were hundreds of birds, and suddenly I saw a lonely phoenix.

You can't climb this line,

Fall out of favor and fall.

I have two ears, so I don't have to listen to diaosi.

Listening to your music, the piano suddenly rose, making people sit down low.

In the panic, I reached out to block my chin, and tears had already poured into my eyes.

Smart and sincere, ice and charcoal can't buy me.

3. Li Ping's Quotations

Author: Li He

Wu Si, Shu and Zhang Tong are in high autumn, and the empty mountains are not flowing.

Jiang Yue wept for Motome's sadness, while Ping Li was playing China.

Kunshan jade broken Fengming, hibiscus crying, Xianglan laughing.

The cold light melts in front of the twelve gates, and the twenty-three silk moves the purple emperor.

Nu Wa makes up the sky by refining stones, and the stones break the ground to stir up the autumn rain.

Dream into the holy mountain to teach the gods, and the old fish dance with the waves.

Wu sleepless leaning on laurel trees, barefoot oblique flying wet cold rabbit twenty-four.