The ancient poems that describe raindrops like bead curtains are shared as follows:
1. "Butterflies in Love with Flowers·Remember the Place where Bead Curtains were First Rolled" Qing Dynasty: Kang Youwei
Remember At the place where the bead curtain was first rolled up, people were leaning against the railing, slightly intoxicated by the wine. The falling green leaves are muttering to themselves in autumn, and the dawn wind blows down Hengtang Road. When a poet looks at a flower, his heart is bitter, and the powder and fragrance are gone, but who is mistaken? Thirty-six Pipis are drizzling, and the color of Ming Dynasty is hard to be the same as before.
Translation: I remember that the bead curtain had just been rolled up, and I was leaning on the railing alone, feeling groggy and a bit drunk. The lotus leaves fluttered and rustled, as if talking to themselves miserably, and the ruthless morning wind blew them down the Hengtang Road. The poet looked at the flowers and felt very sad. The lotus fell and its fragrance drifted away. Who made the lotus so miserable? There is drizzle in the ponds everywhere, and the color of the lotus in the Ming Dynasty will never be restored to its former appearance!
2. "Bai Xuege Sends Magistrate Wu Back to the Capital" Tang Dynasty: Cen Shen
The north wind blows and the white grass breaks, and the sky is full of snow in August. Suddenly a spring breeze comes overnight, and thousands of pear trees bloom. It scatters into the bead curtain and wets the Luo curtain, and the fox fur is not warm and the brocade quilt is thin. The general's horns and bows cannot be controlled, and the guards' iron coats are cold and uncomfortable. The vast sea is covered with hundreds of feet of ice, and the gloomy clouds condense thousands of miles away. The Chinese army prepares wine and drinks for the returning guests, playing fiddles, lutes, lutes and flutes. Snow falls one after another on the camp gate, and the red flag is blown by the wind and does not turn over due to the freezing cold. I saw you off at the east gate of Luntai. When you left, the road to Tianshan Mountain was covered with snow. You can't be seen on the winding mountain road, leaving a place for horses to walk in the sky above the snow.
Translation: The north wind sweeps across the land and blows away the white grass, causing the weather in the Hu land to fall with snow in August. Suddenly, it was like a spring breeze blowing overnight, and thousands of pear trees seemed to be in full bloom. Snowflakes scattered into the beaded curtains and wet the silk curtains. The fox fur coat was not warm enough and the brocade quilt was too thin. The general's gauntlets were too cold to draw his bow, and his armor was too cold to wear. The desert is frozen with cracks vertically and horizontally, and gloomy clouds gather in the sky.
In the coach's tent, wine was placed to bid farewell to the returning guests, and an ensemble of fiddles, pipa, lutes and flutes was played to entertain the guests. In the evening, heavy snow kept falling in front of the camp gate, and the red flag was frozen and could not be pulled by the wind. Outside the east gate of Luntai I send you off to Beijing. When you left, the road to Tianshan Mountain was covered with heavy snow. The winding mountain road has lost sight of you, leaving only a line of horse hoof marks on the snow.
3. "Poetry of Prince Teng's Pavilion" Tang Dynasty: Wang Bo
The high pavilion of Prince Teng is located near the Yangtze River, and he sings and dances while wearing a jade-colored luan. The painted building is flying toward Nanpu clouds, and the bead curtain rolls into the west mountain rain at dusk. The shadows in Xianyuntan Lake are long, and things change and the stars move several autumns. Where is the emperor's son in the pavilion now? Outside the threshold, the Yangtze River flows freely.
Translation: The towering Tengwang Pavilion overlooks the sandbank in the middle of the river, and the gorgeous singing and dancing with the ringing of jade and luan bells has long stopped. In the morning, Huadong flew up to the clouds in Nanpu; in the evening, the bead curtain was caught in the rain in Xishan. The shadows of leisurely colorful clouds are reflected in the river, floating leisurely all day long. Time flies, personnel changes, and I don’t know how many years have passed. Prince Teng, who used to visit the high pavilion, is nowhere to be found now. Only the surging river water outside the railing is rushing into the distance.