1. Poems about destruction
Poems about destruction 1. Poems about destruction
Appreciation of the poem "Destruction" by Zhu Ziqing
In Hangzhou in June. Three nights of swimming on the lake made me feel as if I was floating in the air, like light smoke or floating clouds, and I couldn't stand firm at all. At that time, I was suffering from the entanglement of temptation, and I was desperate for destruction. Feelings are flowing, and I want to leave some traces. But people are busy and it is always difficult to write. I went home during the summer vacation and wrote a verse; but time passed and my interest was no longer as good as before. It was here in September, and I continued to write the first draft; the gap was longer, and the mood was worse. It’s not settled until today, so naturally it’s boring! Fortunately, my mood has not changed drastically, and I can still try my best to copy the feelings of that day without any discrepancies. I will save this manuscript for my own verification.
Evening Diary of December 9, 1922
Hesitating in the middle of the road,
Dejected,
Yes Me, it's me!
Five-color bar,
Ten-color bar,
listed within easy reach:
This is so beautiful!
That sounds great!
What you smell is a strong fragrance,
what you taste is a greasy taste;
what you touch with your hands,
< p> Everything the body relies on,is smooth,
is soft!
Mi Mi Ran!
Why is it so embarrassing? ——
Being pushed,
Being held,
Growing only in pitch and pitch,
How could it ever be done? Half-cent son-in-law?
In a dream,
In a disease;
Just wake up in vain!
There is me in the white clouds,
The fluttering wind in the sky,
There is me in the abyss,
The surging current;
p>
Only on the green, green mud,
There are no shallow, faint footprints of mine!
I am wandering around,
I am wandering around;
I am stepping on my toes,
but I cannot set foot on my own land !
Aged in the dust,
2. Poems about the destruction of the Old Summer Palace
The Old Summer Palace and Li Daxing and Bai Shizhi stayed in the court room overnight
Huan The mountains and rivers are quiet and tranquil, with the golden goblet towering above. The ancient trees are directly connected to the garden, and the moon clearly indicates that it is near the Mid-Autumn Festival. At the fifth watch, the horns are painted to urge the dawn, and thousands of cold stars flow into the Han stream. I sent the poem to Bai Taichuan, and Lu Lang was traveling with him.
Poetry of the Old Summer Palace
Fireflies are flying in Yichun Garden, Jianzhang Changle Liu Shiwei. I left the palace and traveled around Henan, where did I live in the suburbs?
The old pond is clear and green, and the flowing swallows are cutting, and the horses are washing in the sorghum nomadic land. The main town of Beifan is the former capital of Yuan Dynasty, and Xishan has its own prosperity.
Jiuqu dust rises and darkens the sky, and the Chenji star moves to the edge of the Beidou. The ditches are filled with silt to form a brine, and the palace is reflected in the spring.
Tinghong saw Danlingzhi for a while, and Pituo started Changchun Garden first. Nanyuan has beautiful scenery in spring, and the neon wind covers the long banquet.
The spirit of the earth spared no effort to build the Yongshan Lake, and the sky created the Yuanming Palace. At the beginning of the Yuan Ming Dynasty, he was given to Qianlong, who returned to his residence and built a suburban palace.
Eighteen fence gates follow Qujian, and the main hall with seven couplets leans against pine trees. The forty pavilions are all close to the water, and the mountains and rocks are as jagged as ever.
Because I stayed in Ganquan to escape the summer heat, I had many Yang followers and bows. The pure emperor's industry will be in full swing, and there will be no waves in the rivers and seas, waiting for you to travel.
During the trip, I visited four gardens in a row, and the painter wrote about letting go of both realms. Who knows that the scenery in the south of the Yangtze River is beautiful, and it is said that the sky is shrinking and the earth is in your arms.
At that time, it was only planned to be a spiritual confinement, and the tip was never counted on the terrace. Diligence and arrogance do not mean that Emperor Yuan was disrespectful and thrifty!
In autumn, after hearing the magnolia, the evil atmosphere has spread away. The officials are slow to manage the mausoleum, the people are suffering from hardship, and the long whales are riding the waves and the waves are dry.
At first, the planning officials were worried about their wealth and wanted to sell their palaces to help transfer the fortune. Thinking about what happened fifty years ago, the firewood has arrived.
He dared to attack A Fang, but Tan Wan had already seen him punishing the civil servants. At this time, the late emperor saw the danger and ordered three ministers to come out to inspect the division.
There is no one waiting at the front table in the announcement room, and there are mournful and weeping people in the suburban altar. Every year I look at the spring grass on the chariot road, and feel sad for the flowers and birds everywhere.
The jade girl throws the pot into the air and makes her laugh and sings, and the golden cup throws the wine into the night. The scenery of the four seasons is like living in the suburbs, and you can look inside to see the beginning of spring in the dark winter.
The four springs follow the phoenix chariot, and the five nights are full of copper fish. The interior decoration is very similar to the Cui family's bun, and the irony and admonishment frequently remove the ginger behind the ears.
The Jade Road sadly swallows the Kunming Fortress, but only the Bronze Rhinoceros guards the thorns. The fox crows in the night in Qingzhixiu, and the fish weeps in the sky under Xiuyi Bridge.
Who is the old supervisor at Fuyuan Gate? In the past, Khotan was dominated by court and nobles, but now it is lonely and enjoys tourists.
Visitors greet you in silence, and occasionally there are no golden ladies. The Xianliang Gate is closed with broken bricks, and the Guangming Hall is ruined and has decaying walls.
Wen Zong newly built the Qinghui Hall to receive the light from the nearby lake. The Second Grade of the Demonic Dream Forest God's Words spreads throughout the Buddha's realm.
In the lake, weeds are growing, and in front of the steps, mugwort is rustling. Withered trees are heavily plundered for fuel, and wandering scales are suddenly caught in the net.
There is no such thing as a moon-carved moon, and the Three Saints of Taiping came together in the past. It would be better to know that the bamboos are scattered and the moss is falling, and the spring breeze is weeping and the dew is blooming.
Going west from Pinghu Lake, there is a pavilion, with silver hooks hanging on the wall. The golden ladder passes the lotus step by step, and the green windows are full of daisies.
At that time, the bell camel was moved in a hurry, and Concubine'e was guarding the palace. The short blow of reeds follows the autumn moon, and the long bean porridge looks towards the Rehe River.
Go up to the east gate and pass by Hu Chu. There is the Wanggong Ban Road on the left. The enemy soldiers have not yet set fire to Yongmendi, but the shepherd boy has already seen the fire in Lishan Mountain.
I should take pity on a lonely minister in Pengdao, who wants to hold a higher position than Lingjun. The prime minister avoids the soldiers to save lives, while the disciples resist the invaders and die in the door.
Nowadays, there is a sea of ??blessings and injustices. Who believes that there is a God in China? A hundred years of success and destruction are so hasty, the desolation of the world is as clear as sight.
You can still return to the Forbidden City in Dan City. How can you hear the trees nesting in the river swallows? Wasted Yu Qingjijun is good-looking, but it is difficult to realize the difficulty of rejuvenation only after hardships.
The imperial censor has been punished and his words have been repaired, and the middle-ranking officials are no longer allowed to weave brocade. Jin Wan's Jiangnan poems were exhausted in vain, and Yuan Wen's dragon's claws returned to the past with new ones.
Zongraojiecai Grand Palace Gate looks like the old West Lake Road. The land of West Lake is thinner than that of Xun, and I have lost all my money while staying in Wuqing.
Only fish and rice should be used to benefit the people, and do not teach orioles and willows to fight against palace flowers. The poets and ministers commented on all the poems, but it was difficult to move the chariot.
3. Contents of the poem "Destruction" by Zhu Ziqing
Appreciation of the poem "Destruction" by Zhu Ziqing (zz) I was in Hangzhou in June.
Three nights of swimming on the lake made me feel as if I was floating in the air, like light smoke or floating clouds, without any firm footing. At that time, I was suffering from the entanglement of temptation, and I was desperate for destruction.
Feelings are coming, and I want to leave some traces. But people are busy and it is always difficult to write.
I went home during the summer vacation and wrote a verse; but time has passed and my interest is no longer as good as before. It was here in September, and I continued to write the first draft; the gap was even longer, and the mood was worse.
It’s not finalized until today, so naturally it’s boring! Fortunately, my mood has not changed drastically, and I can still try my best to copy the feelings of that day without any discrepancies. I will save this manuscript for my own verification. Evening Diary of December 9, 1922: I am wandering halfway, dejected, It’s me, it’s me! Five lights and ten colors are listed within easy reach: how beautiful they are! That sounds great! What you smell is a strong fragrance, what you taste is a greasy taste; everything you touch with your hands and rest on your body is smooth and soft! Mi Miran! Why is he so confused? —— Being pushed, being held, growing up and down, how could I ever be a master? In a dream, in an illness; only the time to wake up is in vain! I am there in the white clouds, fluttering in the sky wind, there is me in the abyss, the surging current; only on the green, green soil, there are no shallow, faint footprints of mine! I'm wandering around, I'm wandering around; I'm treading on my toes, but I can't set foot on my own land! Aged in the dust, faded in the dust, all that is left is a lazy body and a few clusters of black shadows! At the beginning of the disillusionment, I thought about it: "Dear, although it is insignificant, my hometown - my hometown! Go back! Go back!" Although there is a vast pale moon, the quiet lake is covered with fog and dew. It's foggy and dewy; it's like the mountains are getting ready to sleep.
The fireflies couldn't find their way in the fog, and they could only fly around in a flash. Who puts up lotus lanterns? "Hahahaha~~~" "Scare, scare, scare~~" With a low flute sound, the frog nearby also started to sound.
It is being shaken, being led, saying that it is sleeping in "Sister Yue's arms"; really, who can not leave in a daze? But the moon is actually silent, the fireflies have never been close to me, and the laughter is obviously theirs. Only the sound of the flute has caused melancholy several times; but it is completely irrelevant, the sound of the flute is just the sound of the flute.
The sway is yours, the provocation is yours, they all go their own way, who cares about your coming? Anyway, if we can't be friends, what's the point of lingering? Alone, deserted, tasteless, tasteless! Or turn around and go your own way. go back! go back! Although there are snow-like clothes, they are now scattered gracefully, like the white paper money and ashes left by burning on the Qingming Festival.
Those eyes that flowed like rivers, which contained too many meanings and too few words, were also dried up, until they were as dry as a desert under the scorching sun. The jet-black hair has turned into fluffy autumn grass; the face that has been damaged by blows is only a brown wax model.
There is no trace of Kuang Hua’s smile, and there is no trace of her bead-like singing voice! There is nothing but light in front of me. There is always only light. Leave it alone.
What else are you leaving out! go back! go back! Although there are like a cloud of friends, they boast to each other, comfort each other, spend so many days in talking and laughing; but the boldness of drinking and the closeness of travel are not like the lush branches of flowers and the red-hot flames! This has been spoken in many mouths and known in many hearts, who can forget it? But as soon as I let go of my hand, things changed: it turned into clouds, and it turned into rain. I turned away, turned around, and couldn’t recognize you back then! ——It was just a temporary pleasure. Who really cares about you? So some faint names are left - you are left alone in the vast sky, surrounded by air, surrounded by air! It's better to feel your way back; there may be brothers and sisters there who are eagerly looking forward to you. go back! go back! Although there are clever mystical words, like the falling of the ceiling, in front of my eyes, there is a longing as vague as a veil - leading me to float, float, until above the thirty-three days.
I am surrounded by five-colored clouds, and the gray world is at my feet - smaller, smaller, and so far away that I can hardly even imagine it. But the strong wind from the lower world is always whirling and blowing into my flesh! If I fall down, I will be like a deflated light balloon. I will be trampled on by others, leaving only a hissing sound! How about the reversing wind, like a three-pointed two-edged sword, splitting my flesh? ——I will be dismembered in the five-colored clouds; I will even turn into a puff of smoke and disperse.
I shuddered, "Thinking of the long journey of heaven and earth"... Go back! go back! Although I have a hungry stomach, tense hands, hair that is as long as matted autumn grass, sunken eyes, soft feet, and especially a weak heart, they all lead me down, straight to the bottom, and teach me. Smoking, teach me to drink, teach me to look at women. But in my infatuation, no matter how many moments I have spent, the only thing that won't give in is my present. He won't allow you to ignore him! Moreover, I finally cannot support those who are infatuated with people. I only feel that my limbs are declining and my mind is wandering. Even in the midst of infatuation, something is secretly growing! Am I really not human enough to die so lightly? No! No! While you are not disabled, you can still use your only strength! go back! go back! Although there is death, it seems like a little girl in white, holding a lantern, waiting for me in front, or like a strong man in black, holding a hammer and forcing me from behind - I am worried about the misery of prodigality that is about to come, and During the year of hatred between flesh and blood, (looking at each other with bloody eyes), when I was overwhelmed by the burden of life on my shoulders, and when I saw that my harvest was as dim as clouds in the distance; Facing the black and white future, I don’t know what path to take, but I am always wandering in the dispute of confusion: At that time, she and he appeared faintly, as if there was something, but also as if there was nothing - with this kind of inability The elusive look is really enough to make me yearn for it.
Go, go, go to her, into his arms. Okay, she looked at me and waved, and he looked at me and nodded.
… But, but, she and he are both strangers, which makes me a little worried; their hands are floating in the air, too vague and difficult to grasp, please teach me how to do it. How about connecting with them? condition.
4. Poems about death
1. Hao Li Xing
Han Dynasty: Cao Cao
There was a righteous man in Guandong who raised troops to fight against the evil.
In the early days of joining the alliance, Xianyang was at heart.
The army was weak and hesitant.
Snobbishness makes people fight, and the heirs fight against each other.
The title of Huainan brother is carved in the north.
The armor is infested with lice, and thousands of people die from it.
White bones are exposed in the wild, and there is no rooster crow for thousands of miles.
One of the hundreds of things left by the people will be heart-breaking if you think about it.
Translation:
All the righteous people in Guandong raised troops to attack those cruel people.
At first, he made appointments with various generals and formed alliances to fight against Dong Zhuo of Chang'an.
After the various armies that attacked Dong Zhuo gathered together, because each had their own plans and lacked strength, they waited and watched each other, and no one was willing to take the lead.
The word "snobbery" caused competition among armies, and then the armies started fighting each other.
Yuan Shao's cousin Yuan Shu proclaimed himself emperor in Huainan, and Yuan Shao planned to establish a puppet emperor and carved the emperor's seal in the north.
Due to the continuous wars, soldiers could not take off their uniforms for a long time, and their armors were covered with lice. Many civilians also died in large numbers due to successive years of wars.
The bones were exposed in the wild and no one was collecting them. There was no human habitation for thousands of miles, and no roosters could be heard.
It is extremely sad to think that only one out of a hundred people is still alive.
2. Meng Wei Zhi
Tang Dynasty: Bai Juyi
At night, we travel hand in hand with dreams, and in the morning, we shed tears.
Zhangpu was ill for three times, and the grass in Xianyang returned to autumn for the eighth time.
You buried your bones in the mud under the spring, but I sent them to the world with a head full of snow.
Ah Wei and Han Lang went there one after another. Do you know if Ye Tai knows?
Translation:
At night, I dreamed of playing with you hand in hand, and when I woke up in the morning, my tears flowed down my face without wiping them away.
I fell ill three times in Zhangpu, and it has been eight years since the grass in Chang'an City grew.
I miss you and your bones have turned into sand. I am still temporarily living in the world with a head full of gray hair.
Awei Hanlang has passed away successively. Can we know the underworld in the dim and dim world?
3. Tian Jia Yu
Song Dynasty: Mei Yaochen
Who knows Tian Jia Le? Spring tax and autumn are not enough!
Lixu locked my door, and I was suffering day and night.
There are many streams in midsummer, and the white water is higher than the house.
The water harms my bean sprouts, and the locusts eat my millet.
The edict came the month before last, and the population was copied and recorded.
Sanding borrowed a strong man, and the evil messenger used the bow.
The state talisman is now stricter, and the old officials are holding whips.
Searching for Zhi and Ai, only lame and aimless remains.
Tian Lu dares to complain and complain, and father and son each cry sadly.
What can be done in Nan Mu? Buying arrows and selling calves.
The sorrow turns into long rain, and the pan and fou are empty of porridge.
If you are blind and lame and cannot plow, you will die slowly!
I am ashamed to hear that I am sincere, but I am just a man of honor.
But chanting "Going Back", mowing firewood into the deep valley.
Translation:
Who said we farmers are happy? The taxes owed in the spring have not yet been paid in the autumn. The clerks in the village knocked on my door and pressed me hard every morning and night. It rained heavily in midsummer this year, and the water rose higher than the houses.
The water has flooded and washed away the rice bean sprouts, and the locusts have eaten up all the rice grains. Not long ago, an edict was issued to register the household registrations from house to house, and one of the three would be selected and rushed to be an archer and enlisted in the army. The state's orders were very strict, and old officials kept urging them to go on the road with whips.
Only the lame and the blind were left, as well as the elderly and children. Who in the village dares to sigh and complain? Father and son each cried bitterly. How to do the work in the fields? He had long sold his calf in order to buy arrows. The air of resentment turns into continuous autumn rain, and the pots and jars are empty, making it impossible to eat a meal of porridge.
How do blind and lame people farm? Death is only slow. I felt very ashamed after hearing what the old farmer said, and I took my salary from the court in vain. It would be better to abandon his official position and return to his hometown to collect firewood and farm in the mountains and valleys.
4. Li Bai’s Tomb
Tang Dynasty: Bai Juyi
Li Bai’s tomb beside the Caishi River is surrounded by fields surrounded by endless grass and clouds.
The pitiful bones of the desolate ridge and the poor spring were once filled with earth-shattering writings.
But the poet is so unlucky that he cannot be the king.
Translation:
By the Caishi River, boundless weeds surround the cemetery and reach the white clouds in the distance.
What is sad is that the bones in this barren grave have once written earth-shattering poems.
As long as they are poets, most of them have a bad fate. As for poets who are poor and frustrated, no one can surpass Li Jun.
5. Mourning for Xuetai
Tang Dynasty: Bai Juyi
Wutong was half dead, old and ill, and the thought of Chongquan hurt his spirit.
Returning to the hospital at night with the child in hand, the moon is cold and the room is empty but no one is there.
Translation:
On one side is the dying sycamore tree, and on the other side is the body that has been sick for a long time. Every time I think of going under the Nine Springs after death, I feel sad.
At night, I took my young son by the hand and returned to my hometown. No one was seen in the empty house under the cold moonlight.
5. Contents of the poem "Destruction" by Zhu Ziqing
Appreciation of the poem "Destruction" by Zhu Ziqing (zz) I was in Hangzhou in June.
Three nights of swimming on the lake made me feel as if I was floating in the air, like light smoke or floating clouds, without any firm footing. At that time, I was suffering from the entanglement of temptation, and I was desperate for destruction.
Feelings are coming, and I want to leave some traces. But people are busy and it is always difficult to write.
I went home during the summer vacation and wrote a verse; but time has passed and my interest is no longer as good as before. It was here in September, and I continued to write the first draft; the gap was longer, and the mood was worse.
It’s not finalized until today, so naturally it’s boring! Fortunately, my mood has not changed drastically, and I can still try my best to copy the feelings of that day without any discrepancies. I will save this manuscript for my own verification.
Evening diary of December 9, 1922. I am wandering in the middle of the road, dejected. It’s me, it’s me! Five lights and ten colors are listed within easy reach: how beautiful they are! That sounds great! What you smell is a strong fragrance, what you taste is a greasy taste; everything you touch with your hands and rest on your body is smooth and soft! Mi Miran! Why is he so confused? —— Being pushed, being held, growing up and down, how could I ever be a master? In a dream, in an illness; only the time to wake up is in vain! I am there in the white clouds, fluttering in the sky wind, there is me in the abyss, the surging current; only on the green, green soil, there are no shallow, faint footprints of mine! I'm wandering around, I'm wandering around; I'm treading on my toes, but I can't set foot on my own land! Aged in the dust, faded in the dust, all that is left is a lazy body and a few clusters of black shadows! At the beginning of the disillusionment, I thought about it: "Dear, although it is insignificant, my hometown - my hometown! Go back! Go back!" Although there is a vast pale moon, the quiet lake is covered with fog and dew. It's foggy and dewy; it's like the mountains are getting ready to sleep.
The fireflies couldn't find their way in the fog, so they just flew around in a flash. Who puts up lotus lanterns? "Hahahaha~~~" "Scare, scare, scare~~" With a low flute sound, the frog nearby also started to sound.
It is being shaken, being led, saying that it is sleeping in "Sister Yue's arms"; really, who can not leave in a daze? But the moon is actually silent, the fireflies have never been close to me, and the laughter is obviously theirs. Only the sound of the flute has caused melancholy several times; but it is completely irrelevant, the sound of the flute is just the sound of the flute.
The sway is yours, the provocation is yours, they all go their own way, who will pay attention to your coming? Anyway, if we can't be friends, what's the point of lingering? Alone, deserted, tasteless, tasteless! Or turn around and go your own way. go back! go back! Although there are snow-like clothes, they are now scattered gracefully, like the white paper money and ashes left by burning during the Qingming Festival.
Those eyes that flowed like rivers, which contained too many meanings and too few words, were also dried up, until they were as dry as a desert under the scorching sun. The jet-black hair has turned into fluffy autumn grass; the face that has been damaged by blows is only a brown wax model.
There is no trace of Kuang Hua’s smile, and there is no trace of her bead-like singing voice! There is nothing but light in front of me. There is always only light. Leave it alone.
What else are you leaving out! go back! go back! Although there are like a cloud of friends, they boast to each other, comfort each other, spend so many days in talking and laughing; but the boldness of drinking and the closeness of travel are not like the lush branches of flowers and the red-hot flames! This has been spoken in many mouths and known in many hearts, who can forget it? But as soon as I let go of my hand, things changed: it turned into clouds, and it turned into rain. I turned away, turned around, and couldn’t recognize you back then! ——It was just a temporary pleasure. Who really cares about you? So some faint names are left - you are left alone in the vast sky, surrounded by air, surrounded by air! It's better to feel your way back; there may be brothers and sisters there who are eagerly looking forward to you. go back! go back! Although there are clever mystical words, like the falling of the ceiling, in front of my eyes, there is a longing as vague as a veil - leading me to float, float, until above the thirty-three days.
I am surrounded by five-colored clouds, and the gray world is at my feet - smaller, smaller, and so far away that I can hardly even imagine it. But the strong wind from the lower world is always whirling and blowing into my flesh! If I fall down, I will be like a deflated light balloon. I will be trampled on by others, leaving only a hissing sound! How about the reversing wind, like a three-pointed two-edged sword, splitting my flesh? ——I will be dismembered in the five-colored clouds; I will even turn into a burst of smoke and disperse.
I shuddered, "Thinking of the long journey of heaven and earth"... Go back! go back! Even though I have a hungry stomach, tense hands, hair as long as matted autumn grass, sunken eyes, soft feet, and especially a weak heart, they all lead me down, straight to the bottom, and teach me. Smoking, teach me to drink, teach me to look at women.
But I am infatuated with you, no matter how many moments I have spent, the only thing that won’t give in is my present. He won’t allow you to ignore him! Moreover, I finally cannot support those who are infatuated with people. I only feel that my limbs are declining and my mind is wandering. Even in the midst of infatuation, something is secretly growing! Am I really not human enough to die so lightly? No! No! Before you become a cripple, you can still use the only strength you have! go back! go back! Although there is death, it seems like a little girl in white, holding a lantern, waiting for me in front, or like a strong man in black, holding a hammer and forcing me from behind - I am worried about the misery of prodigality that is about to come, and During the year of hatred between flesh and blood, (looking at each other with bloody eyes), when I was overwhelmed by the burden of life on my shoulders, and when I saw that my harvest was as dim as clouds in the distance; Facing the black and white future, I don’t know what path to take, but I am always wandering in the dispute of confusion: At that time, she and he appeared faintly, as if there was something, but also as if there was nothing - with this kind of inability The elusive look is really enough to make me yearn for it.
Go, go, go to her, into his arms. Okay, she looked at me and waved, and he looked at me and nodded.
… But, but, she and he are both strangers, which makes me a little worried; their hands are floating in the air, too vague and difficult to grasp, please teach me how to do it. How about connecting with them? .
6. Poems about death
No one has died in life since ancient times, leaving behind pictures to illuminate the history - Wen Tianxiang I am smiling to the sky from the side of my sword, leaving behind my liver and gallbladder - Tan Sitong As I return today, there are smiles in the white clouds - Who can believe that Yuan Mei is innocent, the world's fame and fame are unknown to ghosts - - Yuan Chonghuan, Wang Shibei Dingzhongyuan, did not forget to tell Naiwen the family sacrifice - Lu You was shattered to pieces Don't be afraid, you must leave your innocence in the world - Yu Qian's only death was difficult throughout the ages - Cao Cao died when he returned to spring at the age of one, and he ended up being alone as a king.
Asking what love is in the world, it makes people agree in life and death. ——Yuan Haowen: His grandeur is still too weak, but his loyalty will shine through the ages. He has not served the country in his life, but he has left it as a replenishment for his loyal soul.
——Yang Jisheng (Ming Dynasty) After death, I know that everything is in vain, but I cannot see the same sadness as Jiuzhou. ——Lu You Jiangdong’s disciples are so talented that their comeback is unknown.
——Du Mu Peng Shang’s disciples are different from each other, but there is no difference between life and death. It is better to learn that there is no birth, and no birth means no death.
——Bai Juyi Just like the fallen leaves splattering blood on our feet, the verse of life is the smile on the lips of death. ——Li Jinfa's "Impressions" The misty soul of the night platform returns home, worse than the world and sighing at the poverty of the road.
——Pan Chongti (Qing Dynasty) fell into the world by mistake for seventy years, and now returns to the old forest spring. A Taoist monk from Songshan Mountain came to look like him, smiling and pointing at the yellow flowers and white cranes.
——Yan Wosi (Qing Dynasty) If you are born in the world of the sun and have an end, there is no harm in returning to the underworld after death. The earth and the earth are all similar, just like drifting in another country.
——Tang Bohu The country is so angry and unjust, and the ownerless Central Plains is doubly sad. ——Jiang Yiwu (the wartime commander-in-chief who fired the first shot of the Wuchang Uprising).