Self-mockery is like lewdness, and now I am more pregnant with trees. Bored sadness and hatred are new. The word "Spring" was written in the sixth year of Qingyuan (1200), and the author retired to the spring of lead mountain. This is a spring song. The first part depicts natural spring scenery, with clear words, beautiful sentences, rich feelings and unique charm. The next film is based on the scenery. Abandoning politics and returning to the field, I am happy, and I should be transcendent. When I am helpless, I will miss my old friends and add a new sadness to Suiping. This pen is new and clever, and it doesn't stick to the old pattern. The two sentences of "self-laughing" are right in the middle, and the last three sentences overlap, which is fluent and clear to read and has a unique phonological beauty. Xin Qiji (1 140- 1207) was a poet in the Southern Song Dynasty. The original word Tanfu was later changed to You 'an, alias Jiaxuan, Han nationality, born in Licheng (now Jinan, Shandong). At the time of birth, the Central Plains was occupied by nomadic people. 2 1 year-old joined the anti-Jin army and soon returned to the Southern Song Dynasty. He has been to Hubei, Jiangxi, Hunan, Fujian and eastern Zhejiang. Fight for gold all your life. There are "Ten Theories on Meiqin" and "Nine Theories" on the top, and there is "Debate and Strategy" on the bottom. His lyrics expressed patriotic enthusiasm for restoring national unity, poured out his grief and indignation, and condemned the humiliation and peace of the rulers at that time. There are also many works that praise the rivers and mountains of the motherland. He has a wide range of subjects, is good at using predecessors' allusions, and has a heroic style, but there is no lack of delicacy and gentleness. Because Xin Qiji's anti-gold proposition did not conform to the political proposition of the ruling peace faction, he was impeached and resigned, and lived in seclusion by the lake of Jiangxi. Xin Qiji
Clouds and smoke are tied to the temples, and sorrow is like running back to snow. At night, it suddenly becomes afraid, suddenly flies and comes back frequently, but no one always understands its infinite inner feelings. People are talking in the west wind, and thin horses hiss in the waning moon. Paper ashes fly into white butterflies, and tears are dyed into red azaleas. It's cold to the dew, no one can go, and I can't breathe because of the cold. I looked at the sky alone with sadness. The mountains were still there, and my country was not there. There were mossy trees everywhere, and it was desolate. Flowers everywhere, looking back on an old friend thousands of miles away, worrying about wine. I stood on the bridge and sighed. Sean died, and these two states became poor and empty. Seeing you off, I feel sad when the sun sets. Half smoke and half rain, the fisherman was drunk and no one called him. I don't hear the heavy spring crying, but the rustling rain makes people return. Crimson wax is idle with tears, and Wu silkworm is lingering. Peach blossom cave, Yaotai dream, a piece of spring sorrow. Who and * * *? There is no master in spring! Where the cuckoo cries, tears flow in rouge rain. Tears of sadness kept flowing and dyed the red cuffs black and yellow.