Landscape poems:
A lot. And pastoral poetry is not very clear. Looking at Tianmen Mountain:
Tianmen cut off the Chu River and Higashi Shimizu River. The green hills on both sides are neck and neck, and a boat meets leisurely from the horizon.
Pastoral poetry:
Not much, but there are still some. Stay at Xun Yun's home under Wusong Mountain;
I stayed in a farmhouse at the foot of Wusong Mountain, and I felt very depressed and lonely. Tian Jiaqiu is miserable. My neighbor is very cold at night. The owner of the house, the old woman, brought me rice, full of white rice like moonlight. Wandering is a shame. No, thank you for dinner.
Frontier poems:
Next song:
The mountains in May are still full of snow, only cold, and the grass can't see the grass. I have heard of "folding willow" in the flute, but I have never seen it in spring. The soldiers fought the enemy in the golden drum during the day and slept in the saddle at night. I hope that the sword hanging around my waist can quickly pacify the border and serve my country.
Farewell poem:
A lot. Farewell to Meng Haoran on the way to Yangzhou;
Old friends frequently waved to me, bid farewell to the Yellow Crane Tower, and traveled to Yangzhou in this beautiful spring filled with catkins and flowers. Sailing alone in the blue sky, I can see the Yangtze River flowing in the sky.
Poems about objects:
It's a poem. Chanting wine and the moon, there are too many reserved themes for poetry immortals, such as "Drinking asking for the moon". There are other poems about "Yu Hu Yin":
Martyrs bump into jade pots and cherish their old age. Three cups of sword dance autumn moon, suddenly singing and crying.
Ask for the moon: When will there be a moon in the sky? I stopped my glass and asked now. The moon will never reach the moon, but it is very close to the people. Bright as a flying mirror, green smoke goes out. But when you see the night coming from the sea, would you rather know that it is going to the clouds? The moon is on the white rabbit's back, autumn and spring, and who is the neighbor of Chang's lonely life? Now people are not seen in Gu Yue, but in this month they took the ancients. The ancients said, if people are running water, they look at the bright moon. Just look at the glass and sing loudly, and the moonlight can grow in a golden cup.
Poems about immortals:
There are also many. Climb Mount Tianmu in my dream.
A sailing tourist will talk about Japan, which is hidden in water and fog and inaccessible. However, when the Vietnamese talk about Tianmu Mountain, they can still see it through clouds of different depths. On a straight line leading to heaven, its peak enters heaven, topped with five sacred peaks, and casts a shadow across China. The Paradise Terrace Mountains are 100 miles long, and it is here that they begin to extend to the southeast. My heart and my dream are in Wu Heyue, flying over Jinghu Moon overnight. The moon lit up my shadow and I came to Yanhe. Xie 'an is still there, with a loud voice and rippling blue waves. Xie, climbed Yun Lan's ladder. Halfway through the sunny ocean, the sacred rooster crows in space. Thousands of turns, flowers lure me, stones slow me down. The day suddenly ended. Bears, dragons and storms on mountains and rivers disturb forests and shake mountains. Clouds are darkened by rain, and streams are pale by fog. God of thunder and lightning, the mountains are crumbling. The stone gate is broken and ventilated in the deep pit of heaven. An impenetrable shadow, but now the sun and the moon illuminate a golden and silver terrace. Wearing rainbow clothes and riding the wind, all the queens of the clouds came and came down one by one. With the tiger as the harp and the phoenix as the dancer, the images of fairies are arranged in rows. I moved, my soul flew and suddenly began to grow. My pillow and mat are the lost clouds in which I once lived. This is the consistent way of human happiness, and all kinds of things will always flow to the east like water. In this way, I say goodbye to you. I don't know how long I will leave, but let me raise a white deer on my green hillside and ride to you when I need you, Dashan. Oh, how can I bow and scrape to those people with high status and important positions? They never want to be seen with a sincere face!
Ranger poem:
A very important category in Li Bai's thought. Chivalrous man:
The swordsmen of Zhao are dotted with tassels at will, and their swords are as bright as Shuang Shuang. The silver saddle and the white horse set each other off and galloped.
Within ten steps, kill one person, cross a thousand miles, leave no one behind. After you finish, brush off your clothes, don't show any sound, and hide in the depths.
Sometimes when I'm free, I walk through the county town, have a drink, and cross my sword over my knees. Eat meat with the sea and drink with Hou Ying in a big bowl.
Three cups of spit, five mountains are light. After drinking, my eyes were dizzy and energetic, and the rainbow was swallowed up by the air.
Handan surprised to save Zhao Jin's hammer. Hai and Hou Yingcai are real warriors of the second century, and they are famous in the whole city.
As a knight, the death of chivalrous bone is also fragrant, and it is worthy of being a hero. Who can learn Confucian scholars, stay in books all his life, have white hair, and still write the Xuanjing? .
Epic ode:
Also known as nostalgic poems. Antique 3:
The king of Qin swept Liuhe, eyeing He Xiongzai. Swords make clouds, and princes come to the West. Judging from the apocalypse, it can generally drive a group of talents. Withdraw troops and cast gold people, and the valley of letters opens eastward. Gong Ming, looking at the evil platform. 700,000 torturers set out from Mount Li. It's sad to be at a loss about taking the elixir of life. Shooting marine fish, the long whale is Cui Wei. The forehead and nose are like five mountains, and the waves are thundering. You can't see Penglai if you cover the blue sky. When will Xu Shi's boat carrying A Qin girl come back? But see three springs, the golden coffin buried cold ashes.
Poetry that will always be in my heart:
Including poems about palace resentment and poems about thinking about women, but few of them are in Li Bai's works. Long March:
My hair barely covers my forehead. I am picking flowers and paying by my door. When you, my love, ride a bamboo horse, run in circles and throw your childhood. We live in an alley in Qingkan. We are all young and happy. When I was fourteen, I became your wife, and I was too shy to laugh. I bowed my head and went to the dark corner, unwilling to pay attention to your thousands of calls. But at the age of fifteen, I raised my eyebrows and laughed, knowing that no dust can seal our love. Even to death, I will wait for you in my post, and I will not lose heart in the silent watchtower! Then, when I was sixteen, you embarked on a long journey. Then the fifth month, I couldn't help it anymore. I tried to listen to the monkeys in your distant sky. I looked at the place where you walked, your footprints in front of our door, each hidden under the green moss. Hiding under the moss is too deep to sweep away, and the first autumn wind adds leaves. Now, in the eighth month, yellow butterflies, two by two, are hovering on the grass in our western garden. Because of all this, my heart is broken, and I am worried that my bright cheeks will fade. Oh, finally, when you come back through three Pa areas, send me a message home in advance! . I'll pick you up, and I won't mind the distance, all the way to Sha Changfeng.
Wandering poems:
That's homesick poetry. Silent night thinking:
The foot of my bed is shining with such bright light. Is it frosty already? Looking up, I found it was moonlight, sinking again, and I suddenly remembered home.