What poem did Christian Tomb-Sweeping Day sing at the grave?

No matter in study, work or life, everyone is familiar with poetry. The content of poetry is the most concentrated reflection of social life. Then the question is, what kind of poetry is classic? The following is a modern poem about Tomb-Sweeping Day's grave-sweeping, which I compiled for you. I hope it will help you. Tomb-Sweeping Day's modern grave-sweeping poem 1 1, the clear rain, those silk threads are closely woven with sadness. Uneasy souls move around. I can't see the black sleep. At dusk, everyone lives here. A batch of rain tears, full of wine and worship, incense solemn. Let the ancestors in. Throw away the water-deficient lightning, don't dodge, don't extricate yourself, think about it. 2. "Under the Loess" is a foreign land where people with different surnames live. I guess this must be Elysium. Those who went didn't come back, so they closed their eyes and went in. Bypassing a black funeral, let some tears drift like paper dust and wind, and people on the loess can't remember it. Like me, I can't believe my dear grandma is dead. I think she just went to live in a foreign land. Spinning, embroidery, save me something delicious. Look after me from afar, bless me, pray and sing like the virgin Mary. 3. "Until another Qingming Festival" Sunshine or rainy season flowers or body temperature thoughts or tears and smiles are delivered to distant feelings until another kind of attachment or whispering stands or faces memories or embarks on the road of smiling and longs for the past life until another cloud flies or goes beyond walking or running or spinning or follows the smiling back to pour out past dreams. 4. "In the Graveyard" This is the village seven inches on the waist of Qingming. Many eye-catching words were put into the coffin, not creating suspense, just remembering to pay homage. Weeds are still fresh. The barren growth above the tombstone continues to go deep into the roots, and the person you visit is motionless and silent with a few bones. Crows are spectacular. They opened a festival with flustered eyes, like a Buddha walking for thousands of years, sitting in April, waiting for countless tears to drown themselves, holding a few handfuls of loess, burning a fire to fold their bodies, repeatedly hanging their heads and watching those black butterflies, floating gently to stop the flute, and pine and cypress stopped when we went upstream along the full stop. At this time, some lifeless souls began to speak, but many people only knew that the mysterious voice of sending paper money had never been heard. 5. "Tomb-Sweeping Day Poetry" I wrote down my hometown, rice; I wrote down the clear river, I wrote down the fish swimming at the bottom of the water, I wrote down the green grass on the shore, I wrote down the female ghost who looked for love at night light, and I wrote down the legend of grandma and Guanyin. She did good deeds all her life and finally became a fairy. Although she kept saying that she had unfinished wishes, I would write it down. I have to write about the scenery from your humble farmhouse. I must write the power of life from your poor back, just like my father dug Jin Wa out of the ground. We all know it's fake, but he has been digging all his life. Can you believe I have to write that these ancestral graves have moved before Tomb-Sweeping Day? I can't say the only surname in my dialect that hasn't changed. Because of you, I have to keep in touch with my mother. I'm going to burn these unfinished poems to the northern sky in Tomb-Sweeping Day. My relatives were in tears and I was unmoved. My soul is talking to your soul, the grass is broken, and the subtle voice in my hand is a message to you. After experiencing the noise of life and the loneliness of death in nature, we can get a tacit understanding, just like two opposite doors open, and we are fascinated by peace. (2) Before and after death, we all got unprecedented glory. 1 1 years ago, everyone looked up at a comet, Wei Hui, and walked in the city. All the people who saw them took off their hats and greeted them with colorful garlands. Now they have rotted like mud and grass, like torn silk. The flagpole is in the cool wind There are only a few thousand mountain ants guarding you day and night in the cemetery. (3) The stone tablet is like ice, which warms my heart in all fields. I feel the same as in previous years. When I went down the mountain, my tears welled up, because the saddest thing was to leave. I'm going to devote myself to boiling interpersonal relationships, fulfill my obligations to others, stick to my duties, enjoy all kinds of emotional twists and turns, and take hard work and pain as the reward of my actions, just like you, and tell people: I am innocent of life. 7. "Qingming" Shi Wangxiang I don't know how much it rained in the spring rain. I think it's been raining like this since Du Mu's time. I think this rain is still slowly wetting the newly added incense ashes and paper money all over the mountain. I think this rain has been with my grandmother in the underworld. How many flashing blue lights have been broken, the swaying wind, rain, ice, ice, cold, sad and bright, heavy luggage, not only memorial service, but also homesickness. Where can I get drunk in the restaurant? The flute of the shepherd boy in the apricot blossom and spring rain is endless in the wandering journey. Can the wine flag of the spring rain in the south of the Yangtze River be an evocative cloud? I'm drunk. I'll bring cold food and wine next year. "Tomb-Sweeping Day" every year on this day, there is a yearning that grows in the hearts of future generations with the loud cry of cuckoo. No matter how far the journey is, the kite flying freely will be led back to the altar of hometown by a slender thread, bow down in front of a pile of loess, ignite the grief that has been entrusted for a long time, and then call the special line of heaven, so that happiness and sadness can be interpreted as tears. The ancestors separated by Yin and Yang still release warmth and extend their withered hands to the hearts of the younger generation. Hold tight 9. "Paper Money in Tomb-Sweeping Day" A piece of papyrus is full of traces of years and disappears with fireworks. A page abbreviated as a footprint is a day. On this day, I combed my memories and a fire burned out. I finished reading the pile of wealth and left ashes. The paper money sent by Qingming is burning the fire of lovesickness and soothing the heart of spring. Where does the soul belong? Thoughts are piled up in loess. 38+00, "Qingming Evening" Laughing people gradually left flowers in the wrong place. Crows scared away by the living began to go home. The moss of the soul is a cry that sneaks out of the grave and conveys the laughter at night with the last strength of life. The rose that never bloomed on the corpse is a rejected legend. The tunnel leading to Rome at night was dug by ants with their toes, and the coffin was smiling at the sun. The humble sky has long since left. Whose civilization is still shaking? The cursed dusk can never extinguish the pain of being torn. If the sky is a huge grave, what will we become? Corroded glory will be broken into eternal silence. Carve the shame of last night on the tombstone for the burnt-out dream. When a poem is swept away by the wind like a dead leaf, tears will be the only remaining ashes. Cover up the emptiness with all exaggerated smiles. A victory delayed by inexplicable pride. Dreams shattered by despair will be silent on the broken strings of the pipa. Young love is as white as a top under the nourishment of tears. Eyebrows at night are a barren land. The night light in March was a broken riot. Time and space here are just the bones of the body running in the moonlight. I hid in a tent at dusk in Tomb-Sweeping Day in the future, and added a grave to the barren grave with a bloody knife. A white towel swept away the dust on the tombstone, and a bunch of silk flower tied her grief for her mother, lit a wick and said goodbye to her. In April, the endless snow and ice in the north stayed in the cemetery, and the spring breeze stood in front of the tombstone and still felt the salty taste with sad tears. Soft eyes, a heat wave hit my heart, your exhortation turned into a wind chime, the moist soul has been accompanying the children to grow up, and the years have carved the footsteps of climbing the mountain. It's not neat to climb your arms all the way. No matter how difficult it is, you always face the wind with a smile. I know it's your responsibility to let your children take good care of themselves. You are still an umbrella for children. The Riverside Scene at Qingming Festival is the annual Tomb-Sweeping Day. Look at my parents. They just miss each other at ordinary times. In my dreams, I always think of the filial piety of my loved ones when they were alive. I can't forget their kindness after my parents left. It has taken root in my heart. This is not a posture. It's my child's heart. It's not that many people. There is no need to be ungrateful when my parents are alive. When their parents die, they will show your heart underground. Life needs profound reflection on how to treat parents. In fact, the most important thing you have ever done is how to educate future generations. Tomb-Sweeping Day must never pose to express his children's real life. There are many things to confess. The most terrible thing is that I am sorry for my deceased relatives. Random thoughts on Tomb-Sweeping Day entered Tomb-Sweeping Day with a grateful heart, thanking relatives in the underground and parents in Tomb-Sweeping Day. It is not easy to feel more and more real life. Being a good person is more important than anything else. Being a normal person in life is fundamental. Don't lose heart, be worthy of your friends and your family's fame and fortune. Why should foreign things be taken too seriously? Relatives in the ground can rest assured. 14, "Drunk at Qingming Festival" In my life, there are not many times when I get drunk at my parents' graves. Only in front of relatives can you be truly drunk! The truth of not being drunk at ordinary times is that parents show their sincerity, and how many hardships, difficulties and tiredness in life are from the heart. It's redundant for anyone. Only parents need to cheer up after listening to you and stand up after getting drunk. Everything needs to be done by yourself to comfort Tomb-Sweeping Day's underground parents to sweep the grave. Modern poem 2 "Qingming Rain" Look at how much red dust and blue sky this Qingming Rain moistened. Look at the clear rain. The people here are full of tears, telling their nagging feelings about the past. Look at this clear rain, a cup of loess and a few incense, and it burns the paper money all over the sky. I feel distressed when love is gone. Look at this clear rain, sad tears are wiped away here, and the road of tomorrow's journey extends under my feet. Beauty is reshaping life. Tomb-Sweeping Day's modern grave-sweeping poem 3 1, fisherman Rumei (Tang), Wei Chengban and Liu Rumei, like a cloud. The dream startled, the clock missed, and Xiaoying was outside the window. A few affectionate, nowhere to tell, Tomb-Sweeping Day. Young lang, it's easy to say goodbye. Once you go, the book will be broken. 2, Xiangyang cold food sent Yu Wenji (Tang) Dougong smoke water sold at the beginning of 10,000, and the east wind blew 10,000 oblique willows. Who will accompany you on the levee? Stepping on spring mud is half a flower. 3, Qingming (Tang) Sun Qingming came in spring and looked at Beishan. Flirting fires a new flame, and tung flowers grow old branches. Shen Ming was ashamed of the past and kept the banquet secret from his friends. Not as good as a bird in the forest, moving Joe and feathers. 4. When I think of my brothers (Tang) in Qingming Festival, Wei's cold food recipes are sickly, and his thoughts suddenly become clear. Finally, I miss the county seat, and fireworks filled Qingchuan. Apricot porridge is still delicious, and elm soup has been slightly fried. I just hate being a good girl, kissing my face and spending this glorious year. 5, Chang 'an Qingming (Tang) Wei Zhuang fleas hurt the spring dream rainy day, the grass is sandy. At the beginning, the official gave me a clear fire, and I was given a free share of the money. The purple stranger is screaming and screaming, and the green poplar is drawing a swing. Tourists think of the peace incident and feel glad that the scenery is as good as before. Tomb-Sweeping Day's Modern Poetry of Grave-sweeping 4 1. During the Qingming Festival, there were many rains, and the wanderers remembered their ancestors. Looking south to the wild goose, lingering thoughts are chilling. Whoever struggles all his life has no fault, and the merits of the world are recorded in the altar. Determined to carry forward the past and build a family. Second, there are many graveyards in the north and south hills of Tomb-Sweeping Day, and Tomb-Sweeping Day worships and sweeps each other. Paper ashes fly into white butterflies, and tears are dyed into red azaleas. When the sun goes down, the fox sleeps in front of the grave, and the children smile at the lights when the night returns. As long as you are alive, enjoy your wine and indulge yourself. In the grave after your death, you can't taste a drop. Third, Tomb-Sweeping Day dimfragrance, can't sleep, a person want to. Wild clouds will cross the rain to the moon, and sand birds will fly to the sky with voices. For a long time, I left my siblings in a hungry and cold place and thought of reunion every season. Cold wine will arrive next year, and where Pingpeng is still undecided. Fourth, Qingming Festival ancestor worship rain, firecrackers called ancestors; A plate of offerings is misty and fragrant. Qingshan Yu Xiu Songbaicui, a descendant of Ramu Zhong Ling; Bow down at the grave and pray for Fulu to come down to earth. Seven laws. Tomb-Sweeping Day is another April day on earth. What year is The Road to Death? In front of the monument are patches of flying flowers, full of tears and blood. There was a faint cry in my ear, and carp smoked into my dream. Where is the sadness like water? The cuckoo cries in the spring breeze. Seven methods: Tomb-Sweeping Day pays homage to the ancestor of Shennong, Jiang Shui Lieshanzhong, and the Shennongjia shows its shape. The invention of plows and plows taught people how to grow crops. Travel all over Qian Shan to taste herbs and find good medicine to make people prosperous. The Chinese nation was born in Ye Yongqing, with a great crown and deep roots. The earth is yellow and white, separated by Yin and Yang, and Yuan Ye is green. Bowing at the tombstone of the ancestral grave, the cuckoo's voice is full of tears. Continuous blood is thicker than water, and patches of grave moss are as light as frost. Lonely and melancholy, pear flower and I are sad. France clears up, drizzles, and peaches rest in Li Mo. The sentient grass cries, but it is unable to cry in the wild. Half an acre of barren hills bury human feelings, and a mountain of pure land breaks dust. Three glasses of wine are sent to the grave, and a thousand words are paid. Seven laws. Qingming group poems (wheeled body) Qingming ancestor worship drizzle Qingming, wilderness barren slope grass is not green. Under the ashes grave, the candle is fragrant and the wine is in the wind. Yao Si's loving mother is lofty in spring and gazes at the inscription with tears in her eyes. Who is lonely and who is troubled? But watching kites fly in the sky. Last night, the tomb was swept at Qingming Festival, with clouds covering the sky and drizzling. The players in front of the monument swore that the cypresses in the park were all over the ground. Blood-stained flags keep faith, and wind blows flowers to sacrifice heroes. The smoke is drifting away, the sky is like washing, and the great cause is reviving and chasing the sun. Tomb-Sweeping Day, the suburbs are full of guests, men, women and children playing with the breeze. The faint rosy clouds are gorgeous and the drizzle is clear. In spring, the grass buds are new green, and in warm days, the cherry stones are reddish. Smoking is forbidden in the forest, and suddenly I heard the sound of playing the piano in the ravine. Planting willows in Qingming, walking by the water in front of Liushan Mountain, the beauty is smiling. Don't talk about evil spirits and environmental protection, but also benefit the villagers and all living beings. It is a long and lush river, dripping and clear. In March on earth, Fang Fei begins, the grass is green and the flowers are red. Jin Wengong, the overlord in exile during the Qingming period, was having a nightmare. Burning on three sides with a grudge, a hundred crows wailed around the noise. I am loyal to you, and I am filial to my mother. The Millennium will last forever, and the drizzle will be clear.