Bai Juyi's Pipa Tour: ... She turned the tuning pin and tested several strings, even before she played, we could feel her feelings; Every string is thought-provoking, every note is thought-provoking, and it seems that you are dissatisfied with your life; She frowned, bent her fingers, and then started her music, letting her heart share everything with us bit by bit; She brushed the strings, slowly twisted, swept and plucked, first the air in the rainbow skirt, then six small ones; The big string hums like rain, and the small string whispers like a secret; Humming, whispering-and then mixing together, just like pouring large and small pearls into a plate of jade; Guan Yingying's language slipped at the bottom of the flower, and we heard a stream sobbing bitterly along a beach of sand; The spring is cold and astringent, and the clouds of doubt will never stop; The depth and hiding of sadness are more told in silence than in voice; A silver vase suddenly burst, pouring out a stream of water, jumping out of the conflict and blow between armored horses and weapons; Before she put down the pick, her stroke was over, and all four strings made a sound, just like tearing silk.
Li He's "Li Ping's Quotations": Wu Si Shu Tong Zhang Gao Qiu, an empty mountain condenses clouds. Jiang Yue wept for Motome's sadness, while Ping Li was playing China. Kunshan jade broken Fengming, hibiscus crying, Xianglan laughing. The cold light melts in front of the twelve gates, and the twenty-three silk moves the purple emperor. Nu Wa makes up the sky by refining stones, and the stones break the ground to stir up the autumn rain. Dream into the holy mountain to teach the gods, and the old fish dance with the waves. Wu Mian leans against the laurel tree, showing his feet and flying obliquely to wet cold rabbits.
Yan's "Bodhisattva Man": Mourning Zheng Yi's Qu Xiangjiang River, with a green sound. The fingers are thirteen strings, and the details will be sent to you. When the autumn water slows down, the jade column flies. Hit the heartbroken, Chunshan eyebrows low.
Listen to Li Bai's "A Monk Playing the Piano in the Middle of Shu": A Monk in the Middle of Shu carries a blue silk lute and goes down to Emei Mountain in the west. When I hear the sound of Matsutani, I wave my hand at will. The sound of the bell rang, and it turned into a frosty bell. My heart was quiet, as if it had been washed with water. Unconsciously, dusk enveloped the castle peak, and the autumn clouds were bleak, covering the dusk sky.
Li Bai's "Smelling the flute in Los Angeles on a Spring Night": Whose Yu Di flies in the dark and the spring breeze permeates Los Angeles. In this nocturne, the willow is broken, and no one can afford to be homesick.
Liu Changqing's Listening to the Qin: On the Seven Silk, the cold wind in the pines. Although I like this ancient song very much, most people don't play it today.
Chang Jian's "Music on the River": The river rises on the jade piano, with a clear string and a heart. The seven strings of Lingling are all over the ground, and the wood is full of melancholy clouds. It can make the river white and make the river deep. I only know that the branches of buttonwood trees can be decorated with gold.
Du Fu's "Giving Flowers": Jincheng silk tube day after day, half into the river wind and half into the clouds; This kind of music should only be in heaven, where can I hear it several times?