1. Get home at dusk
Qing Dynasty: Jiang Shiquan
I love my son endlessly, and I'm glad to go home.
Cold clothes are needle and thread, and letters from home are ink stains.
If you encounter pity, you will ask for it.
I am ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh.
There is no end to loving your son, and the happiest thing is that the wanderer returns in time.
The stitches for sewing the cold clothes are dense, and the handwriting and ink on the family letter are as new as new.
Seeing that my son has lost weight, my mother felt distressed and called me to ask about the difficulty of the journey.
Mom, my son has always been ashamed of you. He won't have the heart to tell the story of his wandering.
2. Cold food on the mound
Song Dynasty: Yang Wanli
Go straight to your husband! Can this bridge be out of danger?
The maple leaves in the distant mountains are pale outside, and the broken houses are beside the lonely wheat.
The spring breeze is coming again, and all the new buildings are gone.
Pear blossoms are cold food, and it is only when you enter the festival that you are worried.
The path is really long and thin! Gao Qiao doesn't need to rely on it?
The maple leaves in the distant mountains are dim and pale, and the hut by the wheat field looks very lonely.
Weeds grew with the wind overnight, and the path disappeared a year later.
Pear blossoms will bloom after Qingming Festival. I miss you very much this season.
3. Tomb-Sweeping Day wine
Song Dynasty: Gaozu
There are many tomb fields in the north and south hills, and the Qingming 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.
Tomb-Sweeping Day, south and north of Nanshan Mountain, people are busy paying homage to the grave.
Burned paper ash flies around like a white butterfly and cries sadly, just like a cuckoo will spit out blood when it cries.
At dusk, the silent cemetery is desolate, and only the fox sleeps on the grave. At night, the children who came back from the grave laughed and laughed in front of the lights.
Therefore, people should drink when they are alive, and enjoy when they are blessed. After death, how could a drop of wine from a child's grave ever flow to the underworld?
Poems about missing my dead mother:
Brother and sister miss each other, and mother and son cry every other day. ?
Late at night, the moonlight is cold, and it is even more regrettable to remember the past and caress the present.
The wind shook the tree, and the shadows danced, as if it were a new relationship with the mother. ?
Burning incense and crying, kneeling to send grief, kindness, peace and relief.