Li Qingzhao (1084-1155), a native of Zhangqiu, Jinan (now part of Shandong), was named Yi'an Jushi. A poet of the Song Dynasty, a representative of the Wanyue Ci School. In his early days, he lived a prosperous life, and together with his husband Zhao Mingcheng, he devoted himself to the collection and arrangement of calligraphy, painting and inscriptions. The Jin soldiers invaded the Central Plains and lived in the south, in a lonely situation. In the early stage of his poems, he mostly wrote about his leisurely life, and in the later stage, he mostly lamented his life experience, with a sentimental mood and also revealed his longing for the Central Plains. In terms of form, he makes good use of line drawing techniques, creates his own channels, and uses clear and beautiful language. The argument emphasizes the law of association, advocates elegance, puts forward the saying "don't be the same family" in lyrics, and opposes writing lyrics in the same way as poetry. He is capable of poetry, but not much remains. Some of his chapters are timely and historical, and his sentimental words are generous, which is different from his style of writing. Li Qingzhao's "Collected Works of Yi An" and "Yi An's Ci" have been lost. Later generations have a compilation of "Shu Yu Ci". Today there is "Li Qingzhao's Collection and Annotations".
The complete collection of Li Qingzhao's poems:
The author of "Summer Quatrains" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
In life, he is a hero, and in death, he is also a hero.
I still miss Xiang Yu and refuse to cross Jiangdong.
Translation
People living in this world should be heroes among men! Even if you are dead, you should still become a hero among ghosts! I still miss the scene of Xiang Yu when Chu and Han were fighting for supremacy. Even if he committed suicide in Wujiang River, he would not escape from Jiangdong.
The author of "Ru Meng Ling" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
I often remember that the sun is setting in the creek pavilion, and I am so drunk that I don’t know my way back.
Returning to the boat late after all the fun, and straying into the depths of lotus flowers.
Fighting for the crossing, fighting for the crossing, startling a pool of gulls and herons.
Translation
I still remember that I often went to Xiting and played until evening, but I got drunk and forgot the way back. When returning by boat, we got lost and entered the depths of the lotus root pond. How can I paddle out? I row desperately to find a way, but I startle a pool of gulls and herons.
The author of "Wulingchun" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The wind abides in the dust and the fragrance of the flowers has gone. I am tired of combing my hair at night.
Things are different and people are not the same. Everything stops. If you want to speak, you will shed tears first.
I heard that the spring in Shuangxi is still good, so I plan to take a boat trip.
I'm afraid that the Shuangxi dinghy boat cannot carry many sorrows.
Translation
The spring breeze has stopped, all the flowers have fallen, and the flowers have turned into fragrant dust. It is already late and I am still too lazy to comb my hair. The scenery is still the same, but the people are different. Everything is over. If I want to express my difficulties, my tears have already fallen. I heard that the spring scenery in Shuangxi is pretty good, so I plan to take a boat to see it. But I am afraid that the small boat floating on the twin rivers cannot carry many sorrows.
The author of "One Cut Plum" is Li Qingzhao, a writer in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The red couplet is fragrant and the jade mushrooms are still there. In autumn, I undress my clothes lightly and get on the orchid boat alone.
Who in the clouds sent a brocade book? When the wild goose returns, the moon is full on the west tower.
The flowers float and the water flows. One kind of lovesickness, two places of idle sorrow.
There is no way to eliminate this situation. It's just a frown, but it's in my heart.
Translation
The red lotus roots are fragrant, and the bright lotus flowers have withered. I feel the deep coolness from the bamboo mat. I gently lift my gauze skirt and sail on an orchid boat alone. In the sky, the swallows formed a formation and flew back (did they) send back whose letter home? When the swan geese flew back, it was already night (in a blink of an eye), and the clear moonlight poured into the west building. (I am looking forward to it here). Flowers drifted freely, and water drifted freely, a kind of parting lovesickness http:/ /www.slkj.org/a/liqingzhao.html, you and me, affect the worries of two places. Ah, what cannot be ruled out is the lovesickness and the sorrow of separation. Just as they disappeared from the frowning eyebrows, they faintly lingered in my heart again.
The author of "The Slow Voice" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Looking and searching, deserted, miserable and miserable. It is most difficult to breathe when it is suddenly warm and then cold.
Three glasses and two cups of light wine, how can I defeat him? It’s late and the wind is coming! The wild geese are passing by, and I am sad, but it is an old acquaintance.
The yellow flowers are piled up all over the ground, and they are haggard and damaged. Who is worthy of picking them now? Watching the window, how can you be alone in darkness!
The phoenix trees are covered with drizzle, and at dusk, it is drizzle. This time, how could there be such a thing as "sorrow"!
Translation
I searched hard, but all I saw was deserted, which makes me miserable. It is most difficult to maintain and rest during the period when it is warm and then cold. How can you withstand the cold wind in the morning by drinking three or two glasses of light wine? A group of wild geese flew past, which was even more sad because they were all old acquaintances.
The chrysanthemums in the garden are piled all over the ground, and they are all haggard. Who is left to pick them now? How can I stay up until dark alone, guarding the window in silence? The drizzle was dripping on the sycamore leaves, and it was still dripping at dusk. How can such a situation be resolved with the word "sorrow"?
The author of "Drunken Flower Yin" is Li Qingzhao, a writer in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The mist is thick and the clouds are full of sorrow. The day is endless, and the auspicious brain sells the golden beast. It’s the Double Ninth Festival and it’s the Double Ninth Festival. The jade pillow and gauze cupboard are cool in the middle of the night.
After dusk when I drink wine in Dongli, there is a faint fragrance filling my sleeves. There is no way to lose one's soul. The west wind blows behind the curtain, and people are thinner than yellow flowers.
Translation
The thin mist and dense clouds stirred up worries until daytime. In the copper incense burner carved with animal shapes, the dipterocarps incense was gradually burned out.
The wonderful Double Ninth Festival has arrived again, and the white porcelain pillows and the bed and kitchen shrouded in gauze have just been soaked by the cool air.
Drinking in Dongli until dusk, the faint fragrance of yellow chrysanthemum filled my sleeves. Not to mention that it will not destroy the soul, the bead curtain is rolled up because of the west wind, and the young woman in the boudoir is even thinner than the yellow flower.
The author of "Recalling Qin'e" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Lingao Pavilion, the chaotic mountains and plains are covered with thin smoke. The smoke is thin, the crows return, and the horns are heard in the dusk.
The broken fragrance and lingering fragrance are full of bad feelings, and the west wind urges the parasol trees to fall. The parasol trees have fallen, but autumn colors are still there, and loneliness is still there.
Translation
The undulating mountains and the flat and vast wilderness are covered with a thin layer of smoke, and the last ray of the setting sun permeates the smoke. The cry always makes people feel "miserable", especially in the desolate autumn dusk, the cry will appear even more gloomy and miserable. The sound of crows disappeared, and the sound of horns in the military camp was faintly heard in the distance. The bursts of autumn wind mercilessly blew off the yellow and huge leaves of the sycamore tree. The sound of the wind and falling leaves made people feel heavier and sadder.
The author of "Partridge Sky" is Liu Yong, a litterateur in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The remaining smoke blows into the night wind. A bright moon hangs above the curtain. Because the road is far away, people are still far away, even though our hearts are still in the same bed.
Emotional and profound. Biyun returned without a trace. Only in the past life, love caged the mandarin ducks in two places.
Translation
As night falls, the breeze suddenly blows away the thin smoke, and a bright moon gradually rises outside the bamboo curtain of the window lattice. Because we are afraid that the journey will be difficult, we are even more worried that our hearts will not be in harmony. Even if we can be of the same mind, we may not be able to live in the same place.
The friendship is endless and the thoughts are flowing. If you keep cutting, it will become messy. Yun'er, I'm afraid if I go back without a trace (I won't be able to recognize my way back). Such things and feelings should only appear in the past life. I always like to put the two places together.
The author of "Jade House Spring Red Plum" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The red crisp is willing to break the buds into pieces, and explore the southern branches to bloom all over?
I don’t know how long it has been brewing, but I can see that it contains infinite meaning.
The Taoist is haggard under the spring window, dull and damaged, and worried about not leaning on it.
If you want to take a look, then come and rest. It may not be possible tomorrow.
Translation
This is a famous poem praising plum blossoms. Standing proudly in the frost and snow, the plum blossoms have always been the object of chanting by literati and poets. Especially in the Song Dynasty, there were many poems about plum blossoms, but there are not many excellent works that can fully capture the charm of plum blossoms. Qingzhao's "Spring in the Jade House" is undoubtedly the best among them. It not only vividly describes the plum blossoms, but also vividly depicts the ambivalent mentality of the plum blossom appreciator who can't help but appreciate the plum blossoms despite being depressed.
The author of "The Proud Fisherman" is Li Qingzhao, a writer in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The sky is connected with clouds and waves, and the morning mist is connected, and the stars are about to turn and a thousand sails are dancing. It’s as if the soul of a dream has returned to the emperor’s home. Hearing the words of heaven, he asked me diligently where I was going.
I reported that the road was long and the sun was setting, and I learned poems with amazing lines. Ninety thousand miles away, the wind is rising, the wind is still, and the boat is blowing away to the three mountains.
Translation
The sky is filled with morning mist and clouds, the water and sky meet, the Milky Way is turning, like countless boats dancing with sails. The dream soul seemed to have returned to heaven, and the Emperor of Heaven asked me earnestly: Where do you plan to go?
I told the Emperor of Heaven that my future was uncertain, I was old, and it was useless to study all the time. The roc bird is spreading its wings and flying high in the sky ninety thousand miles away. Wind! Don't stop, quickly send this light boat directly to the Penglai Islands.
The author of "Partridge Sky: The Cold Sun Hushes on the Window" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur of the Tang Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The cold sun is rustling above the window, and the parasol trees should hate the frost at night. The wine shop prefers the bitterness of Tuancha, and the fragrance of Rui Nao is preferred when dreams are over.
Autumn is over, the days are still long, and Zhongxuan Huaiyuan is even more desolate. It's better to get drunk in front of Fenzun, and don't bear the yellow chrysanthemum on the east fence.
Translation
The pale sunshine of late autumn gradually shines on the windows with carved patterns, and the sycamore trees should also resent the frost that comes at night. After drinking, I prefer to taste the strong and bitter taste of Tuancha. When I wake up from a dream, it is especially suitable to smell the refreshing fragrance of Ruinao. Autumn is almost over and the days still feel very long. Compared with the nostalgia expressed in Wang Can's "Ode to the Tower", I feel it is even more desolate. It is better to learn from Tao Yuanming, get rid of sorrow by getting drunk, and don't live up to the blooming chrysanthemums on the east fence.
The author of "Reminiscences of Playing the Flute on the Phoenix Platform·Xiang Leng Jin Ni" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur of the Tang Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The fragrant and cold golden cat is rolled over by the red waves, and it gets up to comb its hair lazily. Ren Bao's dowry is covered with dust, and the sun is hanging on the curtain hook. Afraid of the pain of separation, there are so many things that I want to talk about but I still have to stop. Being new and thin is not due to illness and wine, nor is it a sad autumn.
Have a rest! If I go back to Yangguan thousands of times, it will be difficult to stay. People who read Wuling are far away, and the smoke locks the Qin Tower. Only the running water in front of the building should miss me and stare at me all day long. From now on, there is a new sorrow in the place where I stare.
Translation
In the copper stove with Suan Ni handles, the incense has gone cold, and the red brocade quilts are piled on the bedside like waves, and I have no intention of picking them up. . When I wake up in the morning, I feel too lazy to comb my hair. Let the luxurious dressing box be covered with dust, let the rising sun shine on the curtain hook. I was afraid of remembering the pain of parting, and there were so many things I wanted to say to him, but I couldn’t bear to say them when I was about to say them. I have gradually lost weight recently, not because of drinking too much, nor because of the influence of autumn.
Forget it, forget it, he has to leave this time. Even if he sings the farewell song "Yangguan" ten thousand times, he can't be kept. I thought that my sweetheart was about to go away, leaving me alone in the empty building. Only the running water in front of the building should care about me and reflect my gaze all day long. Just as I stare into the distance, from now on, there is a new sadness of looking forward to returning every day.
The author of "Qing Ping Le·Nian Nian Snow" is Li Qingzhao, a writer of the Tang Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
In the snow every year, I often put plum blossoms to get drunk. There is no good intention to remove all the plum blossoms, but to win the clothes full of tears.
This year, everywhere in the world, Xiaoxiao’s temples are blooming. Depending on the wind coming in the evening, plum blossoms should be difficult to see.
Translation
When it snowed every year when I was a child, I would often indulge in the interest of arranging plum blossoms. Later, although I had the plum branches in my hands, I was not in a good mood to enjoy them. I just rubbed them carelessly, causing my clothes to be stained with tears.
When the plum blossoms bloom again this year, I live alone in a very remote place, and the short and thin hair around my ears has turned gray. Looking at the open plum blossoms blown by the wind that night, it was probably hard to see their splendor.
The author of "Recalling Qin'e·Lingao Pavilion" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur of the Tang Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Lingao Pavilion, the chaotic mountains and plains are covered with thin smoke. The smoke is thin, the crows return home, and the horns are heard in the dusk.
The fragrance is gone and the wine is full of evil feelings. The west wind urges the parasol trees to fall. The parasol trees have fallen, but autumn colors are still there, and loneliness is still there.
Translation
The undulating mountains and the flat and vast wilderness are covered with a thin layer of smoke, and the last ray of the setting sun permeates the smoke. The cry always makes people feel "miserable", especially in the desolate autumn dusk, the cry will appear even more gloomy and miserable. The sound of crows disappeared, and the sound of horns in the military camp was faintly heard in the distance. The bursts of autumn wind mercilessly blew off the yellow and huge leaves of the sycamore tree. The sound of the wind and falling leaves made people feel heavier and sadder.
The author of "The Bodhisattva Barbarian: Returning Hong's Voice Cuts Off the Clouds and Blues" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur of the Tang Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The sound of returning home is broken and the clouds are green, and the snow falls from the window behind the back and the smoke from the furnace is straight. The phoenix hairpin at the bottom of the candle is bright, and the person with the hairpin head is lighter.
The sound of the trumpet urges the dawn to leak, and the dawn returns to the cow fight. It’s hard to see the flowers in spring, but the west wind leaves behind the old cold.
Translation
The wild geese return south, their heart-breaking chirps disappearing into the blue sky covered with lingering clouds. Snowflakes were falling outside the window, and a plume of smoke rose vertically inside the room. Under the dim candlelight, she wore a bright phoenix hairpin on her head. The phoenix hairpin was decorated with so light and delicate jewelry.
The mournful sound of horns all night brought the dawn, and I saw that it was already dawn, the stars were turning, and the sky was about to break. In a blink of an eye, the sky is bright and the primrose flowers are probably blooming. But it is early spring, the west wind is still strong, and the flowers are still threatened by the harsh spring cold, so those who are willing to come out to fight for spring.
The author of "Like a Dream: The Rain and the Wind Last Night" is Li Qingzhao, a poet and writer in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Last night it rained and the wind blew, and the remaining wine could not be consumed by the heavy sleep.
When I asked the person behind the curtain, I found that Begonia was still the same.
Do you know, do you know? It should be green, red and thin.
Translation
Although it rained sparsely last night, the wind blew fiercely, and the deep sleep could not wipe out all the remaining power of the wine. Ask the maid who is rolling up the curtain: How are the begonia flowers in the garden doing now? She said the crabapple flowers were still the same as before. Do you know, do you know that in this season, the green leaves should be luxuriant and the red flowers withered.
The author of "The Fisherman's Proud Spring Letter Has Come in the Snow" is Li Qingzhao, a poet and litterateur in the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
It is known that spring has arrived in the snow, and the cold plum blossoms are dotted with delicate branches. Her fragrant face is half-opened and charming. In the courtyard, the beauty takes a bath and washes off her fresh makeup.
Catalogue may be intentional, so the moon shines brightly. ***The bounty is respected by the green ants, don't quit being drunk, this flower is not comparable to other flowers.
Translation
The snow-capped world is full of silver. In this silver world, a winter plum tree is dotted among them. The plum branches covered with snow and hanging ice are crystal clear, and the plum blossoms on the branches are plump and beautiful. It is from the plum blossoms blooming proudly in the snow that people know that spring is coming. The plum blossoms are in bloom, delicate and beautiful, and their fragrance is astonishing, just like a beauty who has just taken a bath and put on new makeup in the courtyard.
Nature may also have a preference. She loves this delicate plum blossom as a foil, which makes the moonlight so bright, clear, exquisite and translucent, spreading all over the earth. Let us raise a glass and drink happily. On this beautiful night with the full moon and white snow, we can taste wine and enjoy the plum blossoms, and get drunk before resting. You know, among all the flowers, no one is inferior to plum blossoms.
The author of "One of Two Occasionally Made Poems" is Li Qingzhao, a litterateur of the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Fifteen years ago, at the end of the flower season, Xiang Cong once wrote a flower appreciation poem.
Looking at the flowers and the moon today, they look very similar, and their feelings are as peaceful as those of the past.
Translation
Fifteen years ago, we visited the garden together and wrote poems about flower appreciation. The flowers today are still the same as in previous years, but my mood is different from previous years.
"Niannujiao·Depressed Courtyard" comes from 300 poems of the Song Dynasty. The author is Song Dynasty poet Li Qingzhao. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
In the depressing courtyard, there is a slanting wind and drizzle, and the heavy doors must be closed. . Favoring willows, delicate flowers, cold food, and all kinds of annoying weather. The rhyme of the poem is complete, and it is a leisurely feeling to hold one's head up and wake up from the drunkenness.
After the war is over, it’s hard to express all the worries.
It has been cold in spring for a few days upstairs, the curtains hang down on all sides, and the jade railings lean against them. The cold incense will dispel new dreams and sleep, and you can't afford to worry about others. The clear morning dew flows, the new tung trees begin to bloom, and it feels like a spring outing. The sun is high and the smoke is gathering. It seems that it will be sunny today.
Translation
In the desolate courtyard, a slanting wind and drizzle blew, and the courtyard doors were closed tightly. The delicate spring flowers are about to bloom, and the tender willows are gradually turning green. The Cold Food Festival is approaching, and it's a troublesome time. I'll write a poem with a sinister rhyme. When I wake up from the drunkenness, I'm still in a idle and boring mood, and I don't have any worries in my heart. The geese flying far away flew by, but the thousands of words in my heart could not be conveyed.
It has been cold and chilly in spring upstairs for the past few days, and the curtains were hung low. I am too lazy to rely on the jade railing. The brocade quilt is cold, the incense has faded, and I wake up from a short dream. This scene made it impossible for me, who was already so worried, to sleep peacefully. The new dew trickles in the morning, and the newly sprouted tung leaves are a deep green, adding to the mood of spring outing. The sun is high and the morning smoke is beginning to rise. Let’s see if today will be another sunny day.
"Yong Yu Le·Golden Sunset" comes from "Three Hundred Song Poems", and its poet is Li Qingzhao, a poet of the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
How do you know where he will return in spring? Let's meet and drink wine. The young man wanders to the end of the world with hatred, and grows tall in the smoke of willow trees in the West Lake. Don't look back, but the drizzle breaks the bridge and haggard people return. The east wind feels like old times. When asked about the peach blossoms in front of him, Liu Lang could remember them, and if the flowers recognized him again.
You will stay here, leaving you with a piece of grass. It's late the night before. The deep cup is full of desire, the song is slippery, and the half-sleeves of the spring shirt are wet. Kong frowned and looked at the white-haired gentleman in front of him, who seemed to be there. The final handle. Sighing and laughing at the essay, Qing Kuang Gu Qu, when will this meeting happen again?
Translation
The setting sun is golden, like molten gold water, and the dusk clouds are wavy blue, as bright and crystal clear as jasper. The scenery is so beautiful, but where am I now? The new willow leaves are stained like green smoke, and there is a sound of resentment in the flute music of "Plum Blossoms Fall". The breath of spring is already showing. But in the mild weather during the Lantern Festival, how can we know that there will be no wind or rain? Those drinking friends, poets, and friends came to greet them in their gorgeous carriages and horses, but I could only respond politely, because I was depressed and anxious.
I remember the prosperous years of Bianjing. I had a lot of leisure time in my boudoir, and I especially value this fifteenth day of the first lunar month. Their hats were inlaid with jade beads, and their bodies were adorned with gold-twisted snow willows. All of them were dressed handsomely. Now I look haggard, my hair is fluffy and I have no intention of combing it, and I am even more afraid of going out at night. It's better to listen to other people's laughter from under the curtain.
The author of "The Proud Fisherman: The Sky Connects the Clouds and the Waves Lian Xiaowu" is Li Qingzhao, a writer of the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The sky is connected with clouds and waves, and the morning mist is connected, and the stars are about to turn and a thousand sails are dancing. It’s as if the soul of a dream has returned to the emperor’s home. Hearing the words of heaven, he asked me diligently where I was going.
I reported that the road was long and the sun was setting, and I learned poems with amazing lines. Ninety thousand miles away, the wind is rising, the wind is still, and the boat is blowing away to the three mountains.
Translation
The sky is misty, and the morning fog is covering the clouds and waves. The Milky Way is about to turn, and thousands of sails are drifting like shuttles along the waves. The dream soul seemed to have returned to heaven again, and the Emperor of Heaven sent a message to invite him in good faith. He asked diligently: Do you have a place to stay?
I reported back to the Emperor of Heaven and said: The journey is long and I lament that the sunset is not early. Learning to compose poetry is in vain if you have wonderful lines that people praise, but they are useless. Ninety thousand miles in the sky, the roc soars high into the sky. Wind! Please don't stop, take this small boat and carry me directly to Penglai Sanxian Island.
The author of "Dielianhua·Luo Yi Wet with Tears and Full of Fat and Pink" is Li Qingzhao, a writer from the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
My clothes are wet with tears and full of powder, and I have sung it thousands of times. The mountain of human nature is long and broken, and the gentle rain is heard in the solitary hall.
I feel sad and confused when I leave. I forget about leaving. The wine cup is deep and shallow. It's easy to pass the music book over the wild geese. Donglai is not as far away as Penglai.
Translation
When I parted with my sisters, my clothes and cheeks were wet with tears of farewell. I sang the farewell song "Yangguan Song" over and over again, even if No words can express my feelings. Now I am in a foreign land, looking at the mountains and rivers of Laizhou. In the boarding house, the autumn rain is falling, and I can't help but feel infinitely desolate.
I was so disturbed by the emotions of separation that I didn’t know how the sisters drank the farewell wine during the farewell party. I had no idea whether the wine in the glass was dark or light. Finally, I told my sisters that you should let the passing geese bring you the news to comfort my heart. After all, Donglai is not as far away as Penglai.
The author of "Xingxiangzi·Sky and Autumn Light" is Li Qingzhao, a poet of the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The sky and the autumn light bring about feelings of sadness. Explore Jinying and learn about the Double Ninth Festival. Thin clothes are tried for the first time, green ants are tasted for the first time. Gradually there is wind, rain and coolness.
The courtyard is filled with panic at dusk. When I wake up from alcohol, I feel sad about the past. In that eternal night, the moon is bright and the bed is empty. Hear the sound of an anvil pounding, a thin sound of crickets, and a long leaking sound.
Translation
The autumn sky is cloudless and refreshing. When I see the chrysanthemums, I know that the Double Ninth Festival is coming. Wearing coarse clothes and drinking unfiltered wine, every autumn wind and autumn rain bring the coolness of autumn.
The courtyard at dusk gives people a sad feeling. After waking up, the past memories emerge, making the heart even more sad. How could I endure this long night, with the bright moon shining on this empty bed. Listening to the sound of pounding clothes in the distance, the long and sharp chirping of crickets, and the long leaking sound, it felt like time passed too slowly.
The author of "Huanxisha·Moxu Cup of Deep Amber" is the Song Dynasty poet Li Qingzhao.
The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Mo Xu cup is dark and thick with amber, which melts before it becomes intoxicating. The sparse bell has responded to the late wind.
The fragrant Rui Nao fragrant quells the soul and dreams, and the golden bun is used to ward off the cold. When I wake up, the sky is red with candles.
The author of "Dolly: Ode to White Chrysanthemums" is Song Dynasty poet Li Qingzhao. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The small building is cold, and the night is long and the curtains are drooped. Hate Xiao Xiao, ruthless wind and rain, the night comes to rub Qiong. It doesn't look like the imperial concubine's drunk face, nor does it look like Sun Shou's frown. Han Ling steals the fragrance, and the lady's wife is a fan. Don't compare them with each other. Take a closer look at the Qi and Qu Ping pottery orders, and the charm is just right. The breeze rises, and the fragrance lingers, not reducing the fragrance.
Autumn is gradually approaching, the snow is clear and the jade is thin, and I rely on people infinitely. It seems like the worry is condensing, Han Gao is undressing the pendant, it is like the tears are falling, and the Wan fan is writing poems. The moon is bright, the breeze is clear, the smoke is thick and the rain is dark, the heavenly religion is haggard and beautiful. Even though I cherish it, I don’t know how long I will keep it from now on. The favor is good, why should we remember it more? The east fence beside the river.
Translation
During the long night, even though the curtains were lowered, it was still chilly in the small building. I hate the ruthless wind and rain that rustles and destroys the jade-like white chrysanthemums at night. Looking at the white chrysanthemum, it doesn't look like Concubine Yang's slightly red drunken face, nor does it look like Sun Shou's delicate and frowning brow. Han Ling's behavior as a cheater and a MILF's fan can't be compared to Bai Ju's. Looking carefully, Qu Yuan and Tao Ling's aloof and noble character is exactly the same as Bai Ju's. The breeze blows, and the fragrance of the white chrysanthemum is no less than the elegant tea.
Autumn is coming to an end, and the white chrysanthemum is becoming more and more skinny, seeming to reveal its infinite attachment to people. You can see that it seems to be a gathering of sorrow, undressing the pendant in the Han Dynasty; it seems like tears spilling on a fan and writing a poem. Sometimes there is a bright moon and a clear breeze, and sometimes there is thick fog and autumn rain. God allows the white chrysanthemum to spend its beauty in the increasingly haggard weather. Even though I cherish it, I don’t know how long I can keep it from now on. well! If the world knew how to cherish and appreciate the chrysanthemums, there would be no need to recall and emphasize the love of Qu Yuan and Tao Yuanming.
The author of "Die Lian Hua·Warm Rain and Sunny Wind Breaks the Freeze" is the Song Dynasty poet Li Qingzhao. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The warm rain and clear wind have just broken through the frost, and the willow eyes and plum blossom cheeks already feel the heartbeat of spring. Who has sex with drunken poetry? Tears melt and the remaining pink flowers are heavy.
At first I tried to tuck my shirt into a gold-threaded seam, and found that I was leaning against the mountain pillow, and the hairpin-headed phoenix was damaged by the pillow. Holding one's arms alone is full of sorrow and no good dreams. It's still late at night and there are still lights and flowers.
Translation
The warm rain and warm wind have taken away some of the chill of winter. Willow leaves have grown, plum blossoms are in full bloom, and spring has come. The dignified young woman was also aroused by the spring breeze. If your lover is not around, who can you talk to about poetry over wine? The young woman's tears flowed down her cheeks, smearing the powder on her face.
The young woman tried on a blouse sewn with gold threads, but her thoughts were not on the clothes at all. She leaned on the pillow heartlessly, the hairpin on her head was crushed, and she didn't care. She was so lonely and worried, how could she have a good dream? Only late at night, holding the lanterns in my hands, thinking about my lover.
The author of "Huanxisha·Spring Light and Cold Food Day" is Li Qingzhao, a poet of the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
In the cold spring weather, the jade furnace sinks into the water and the remaining smoke curls up. Dreaming back to the mountain pillow, hidden flowers.
In the future, Haiyan will be fighting for grass, and Jiangmei will be past Yagyu. At dusk, the rain makes the swing wet.
Translation
In the cold food and Qingming Festival, all things revive and the bright spring light is rippling. The famous incense in the jade furnace is almost gone, but the remaining smoke still emits an intoxicating fragrance. After waking up from a nap, the flower necklace on my head fell on the bed beside my pillow.
Before Haiyan returned, the children next door started playing a grass fighting game. The plum blossoms on the riverside have fallen, and the catkins are rippling in the wind. Scattered raindrops wet the swing in the yard, adding to the coolness of the evening.
The author of "Red Lips·Lonely Purdah" is Li Qingzhao, a poet of the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Lonely in the deep boudoir, an inch of my heart is full of sorrow. Cherish that spring is gone, what time will the flowers rain?
Leaning all over the corridor, but without emotion. Wherever people are, the sky is covered with decaying grass, and it is impossible to see the way back.
Translation
In late spring, the boundless loneliness in the boudoir comes like a tide, but this inch of tender intestine can accommodate thousands of sorrows. The more you cherish spring, the easier it is to pass away. The sound of patter of rain urges the falling red, and also urges the return of spring.
In this lonely late spring, I lean on every inch of the fence with lovesickness. Even though spring is so wonderful, I still have no emotions. He asked softly: "My beloved, where are you?" There was only the endless stretch of decaying grass in front of me, spreading the path that my beloved must pass.
The author of "Huanxisha·Spring is deep in the idle window of the small courtyard" is Li Qingzhao, a poet of the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Spring has already deepened by the idle window in the small courtyard. The heavy curtains are not rolled up and the shadows are heavy. I lean against the building and have no words to listen to the Yao Qin.
Far from the mountain, it is getting dusk. The gentle wind and rain make it overcast, and the pear blossoms are about to wither.
Translation
The spring scenery seen through the window in the small courtyard will pass. The thick door curtains were not rolled up, and there were heavy shadows in the dark boudoir. Leaning on the railing of the embroidered building, she quietly played the Yao Qin in silence and loneliness.
The clouds and mist on the distant mountain peaks seem to be approaching dusk. The gentle breeze in the twilight is blowing the drizzle and playing with the dim light clouds. The pear blossoms in the yard are about to wither. I'm afraid even the slanting wind and drizzle will be unbearable, which is really sad.
The author of "Niannujiao·Spring Love" is Li Qingzhao, a poet of the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The courtyard is deserted, there is a slanting wind and drizzle, and the heavy doors must be closed.
The pet willows and delicate flowers are close to cold food and all kinds of annoying weather.
Poems with dangerous rhymes are completed, and holding one's head up to sober up is not a feeling of leisure.
Zheng Hong has passed away, and it is difficult to express all his worries.
It has been cold in spring for a few days upstairs, the curtains hang down on all sides, and the jade railings lean against them.
Being refreshed by the cold incense, you must not worry about others.
The morning dew flows, the new tung trees begin to bloom, what a spring outing!
The sun is high and the smoke is gathering. Do you think it will be sunny today?
Translation
In the desolate courtyard, a slanting wind and drizzle blew, and the doors of the courtyard were closed tightly. The delicate spring flowers are about to bloom, and the tender willows are gradually turning green. The Cold Food Festival is approaching, and it's a troublesome time. I'll write a poem with a sinister rhyme. When I wake up from the drunkenness, I'm still in a idle and boring mood, and I don't have any worries in my heart. The geese flying far away flew by, but the thousands of words in my heart could not be conveyed. It has been freezing cold in spring upstairs for the past few days, and the curtains were hung low. I am too lazy to rely on the jade railing. The brocade quilt is cold, the incense has faded, and I wake up from a short dream. This scene made it impossible for me, who was already so worried, to sleep peacefully. The new dew trickles in the morning, and the newly sprouted tung leaves are a deep green, adding to the mood of spring outing. The sun is high and the morning smoke is beginning to rise. Let’s see if today will be another sunny day.
The author of "Xingxiangzi·Qixi Festival" is the Song Dynasty poet Li Qingzhao. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The crickets sing in the grass. The sycamore tree fell in shock. There is so much sorrow in the world and in heaven. The clouds, the moon and the earth are locked with thousands of layers of locks. Even if they come and go, they will not meet each other.
A magpie rides on a star bridge, we only see each other after many years. If you want to leave, don’t hate it, it’s hard to be poor. Morning Glory and Weaver Girl are nothing but Li Zhong. It will be sunny for a moment, rain for a moment, and windy for a moment.
Translation
Crickets were chirping sadly in the grass, and the sycamore leaves at the tips seemed to be frightened by the sound of crickets and fell. From the scene in front of me, I thought of the human world. The season of sorrow in heaven. In the starry sky above the clouds, moon and earth, the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl were blocked by thousands of barriers and could not meet each other. The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl only meet briefly once a year. The rest of the time, they are like floating boats in the vast galaxy, swimming around and never meeting again.
Maybe the Magpie Bridge has not yet been built, and the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl may still not be able to meet each other in the separation. I guess that the Magpie Bridge has been built by this time, but maybe the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl have not yet reunited. Looking at the weather, which was cloudy and cloudy with sudden wind and rain, it must be that the meeting of Cowherd and Weaver Girl was hindered again.
The author of "Die Lian Hua·Shang Si Zhao Relatives" is the Song Dynasty poet Li Qingzhao. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The eternal night is full of sorrow and joy. Dream of Chang'an in the sky, recognize the road of Chang'an. In order to report the good spring scenery this year, it is better to take pictures of the flowers and the moonlight.
The cups and plates are careless. The wine is delicious and the plum is sour, just like a person's embrace. Don't laugh when you are drunk and arranging flowers. Spring is as pitiful as a person getting old.
Translation
The long night makes people unable to lift their spirits and makes them depressed. They can only dream about the capital in their dreams, and they can still recognize the familiar streets of Kyoto. In order to repay the good spring scenery at present, the flowers and the moon shadow also reflect each other.
It was a simple banquet. Although the food was ordinary, the wine was fine and tasted very good. Everything was satisfying. When I'm drunk, I put flowers in my head. Flowers, don't laugh at me. Unfortunately, spring is passing away just like human aging.
The author of "Reduced Words Magnolia·On the Flower Seller" is Li Qingzhao, a poet from the Song Dynasty. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
Selling flowers on a pole, I bought a branch ready to bloom. The tears are stained lightly and evenly, but still have traces of the dawn dew.
Panlang guessed that slave noodles are not as good as flower noodles. The hairpin on the temples is slanted, and the apprentice wants to teach the man to compare and look at it.
Translation
On the florist's shoulders, I bought a budding flower. The morning dew also left traces in the color of the flowers, making the flowers look more beautiful. I'm afraid that my husband will be suspicious after seeing the flowers and think that my appearance is not as beautiful as the flowers. I will put the plum blossoms in the clouds on my temples, let the flowers be juxtaposed with my face, and show him which one is more beautiful.
The author of "Linjiang Fairy Plum" is the Song Dynasty poet Li Qingzhao. The full text of his ancient poem is as follows:
The courtyard is a little deeper, with willows piled up in smoke and countless curtains. The jade-carved saddle is in the place where you can see the Zhangtai Road.
It rains and the wind blows wildly at the end of March, the door is blocked at dusk, and there is no way to stay in the spring. Tears asked the flowers without saying a word, and the red flowers flew across the swing.
Translation
There are many layers in the courtyard, clouds cluster in the attic windows, a light mist fills the surroundings, but spring has not come yet. Missing makes the face look haggard, we can only meet in dreams at night, and the plum branches facing the sun have also reached the time of sprouting.
The plum blossoms are graceful and thin, and the Qiang flute in the south tower should not play sad tunes. I don’t know how many plum blossoms that exude a strong fragrance have been blown down? The warm breeze of spring, don't let time come to the season of apricot blossoms in full bloom.
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