Passing through the old people's village
(Tang) Meng Haoran
preparing me chicken and rice, old friend, you entertain me at your farm.
we watch the green trees that circle your village, and the pale blue of outlying mountains.
we open your window over garden and field, to talk mulberry and hemp with our cups in our hands.
wait till the Mountain Holiday, I am coming again in chrysanthemum time.
a tour of Shanxi village
(Song Dynasty) a land tour
Don't laugh at the peasant's wine and wine, and keep enough chickens and dolphins in good years.
there is no way for mountains and rivers to return to doubt, and there is another village.
Qingpingle. The village lives in Song Xin Qiji
The eaves of the thatched roofs are low and small, and the streams are covered with green grass. The Wu place that is drunk is drunk, sounds gentle and beautiful, whose home is the old man with white hair?
Big son hoes the east of Douxi, while Middle son is weaving a chicken coop; I like children's hooligans best, and I lie on the head of the stream and peel off the lotus. 2. What are the poems that describe children's scenery? < P > It's beautiful when the sun is late, and the flowers are fragrant in the spring breeze. The swallows are busy building their nests in wet mud, and sleeping in pairs in warm sand.
leaning alone in the close bamboos, I am playing my lute and humming a song. Too softly for anyone to hear, except my comrade, the bright moon.
preparing me chicken and rice, old friend, you entertain me at your farm. The green woods were around the village, and the green hills lay outside the city. Open the window and face the valley vegetable garden, hand over the glass to chat about the crops. When the ninth festival comes, please come here to see the chrysanthemum.
In the mountains are cold and blue now, autumn waters are gurgling every day. By my thatch door, leaning on my staff, I listen to cicadas in the evening wind. Sunset lingers at the ferry, supper-smoke floats up from the houses. Summer value meets Yu drunk, and sing a wild poem at Five Willows?.
a captive bird is nostalgic for the old forest, and a fish in the pond misses its source. Open up wasteland in the south and return to the countryside. Around the house is about ten acres of land, and the thatched cottage of the thatched cottage. The elm tree is in the back of Liu Yin and in front of Taoli Luotang.
Jia Yi died three years ago in Wan Li, Ban Chao. How to lead a white calf? Drinking water is good for clean water.
there seems to be no one on the empty mountain, and yet I think I hear a voice. The shadow of the setting sun came into deep forest, and the landscape was pleasant on the moss.
after rain the empty mountain, stands autumnal in the evening. The bright moon sprinkled the clear light from the gap, clearing the fountain on the rocks. The bamboo forest is loud and clear, the laundry girl comes back, the lotus leaf jiggle want to go up and down the canoe. The spring of spring may wish to let it rest, in autumn the hills of the sun can stay long.
the mountains are green and the mountains are white and full of rivers, and the rain is like smoke in the sound of the rules. There are few idle people in the countryside in April, so sericulture is planted in the fields.
Plums are golden and apricots are fat, while wheat flowers are white and cauliflower is sparse. No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies fly.
don't laugh at the muddy wine in the farmhouse, and keep enough chickens and dolphins in good years. The mountain overlapping water flow twists and turns is worried that no way can walk, the willow green flowers suddenly appear a mountain village.
the desert is heavy with dark clouds, and the rain is falling. For the ancient road flooded by Lin, it is full of wasteland. When will the five crops be harvested, several households in the isolated village will cook. Turbulence spreads through the nursery, and rotten leaves write autumn branches. The new firewood is wet at dusk, and the old fishing moves in the morning. Last year, chrysanthemums bloomed in Dongli.
hibiscus with sawdust and red calyx in the mountains. There are no people in the stream, and they have started to fall.
the screen is on the water, and there are no mountains in the east. The sun is hidden outside the mulberry tree, and the river is clear between the wells. The shepherd boy looks to the village, and the hound returns with the people. What's the matter with the quiet? Jingfei takes the day off.
the limpid river, past its bushes, running slowly as my chariot. Becomes a fellow voyager, returning home with the evening birds. A ruined city-wall overtops an old ferry, autumn sunset floods the peaks. Far away, beside Mount Song, I shall close my door and be at peace.
autumn is good, and Kuang Jun is idle in the pool. Under the leisurely Xilin, I know the mountain in front of the door. Thousands of miles across the sky, several peaks emerge from the clouds.
when people are idle, osmanthus flowers fall, and the night is quiet and the mountains are empty. When the moon comes out, it surprises the mountain birds, and when it sounds in the spring stream.
its massive height near the City of Heaven, joins a thousand mountains to the corner of the sea. White clouds in the back of the synthesis of a piece, blue haze into the mountains disappeared. The central peak divides the south - west, and the mountain valleys are varied. Want to find a house in the mountain to stay, the water conductor asked the woodcutter can be convenient?
Look at the Golden Horse Gate, and take the road of firewood. There is no confidant in rural songs, and there is no relatives and friends at the end. Who can recommend Ganquan Fu for Yang Xiong?
the dangerous path turns tens of thousands, and it will rest for three miles. See the disciples in the circle, and the forest hills are hidden. Whispering rain, flowing stones. Quiet words in the deep stream, whistling high in the mountains.
blackbirds throw themselves into the forest, but few people visit them, and the smoke from the former mountain leads to Chai Fei. The child paddled like a leaf, weaving a duck array to return alone.
spring doves are singing in the house, and apricot blossoms are white by the trees. Hold the axe to cut down the poplar, and the lotus hoe the spring vein. Returning to Yan knows the old nest, and the old people look at the new calendar. When you are in a hurry, you will not be royal, and you will travel far away.
in the slant of the sun on the country-side, cattle and sheep trail home along the lane. And a rugged old man in a thatch door, leans on a staff and thinks of his son, the herdboy. There are whirring pheasants? full wheat-ears, silk-worms asleep, pared mulberry-leaves. And the farmers, returning with hoes on their shoulders, hail one another familiarly. No wonder I long for the simple life, and am sighing the old song, Oh, to go Back Again!.
it's sunny and Yuan Ye is vast. Extremely clean. Guomen is near the ferry. The village tree is connected with the stream mouth. Bai shui Ming Tian wai After Bifeng came out of the mountain. There are no idle people on the farm. Pour out the family's family.
The mud mirror of the newly-built farm is flat, so every family can harvest rice while the frost clears. The laughter sounded like thunder, and the flail sounded bright all night.
I have sailed the River of Yellow Flowers, borne by the channel of a green stream. Rounding ten thousand turns through the mountains, on a journey of less than thirty miles. Rapids hum over heaped rocks, but where light grows dim in the thick pines. The surface of an inlet sways with nut-horns, and weeds are lush along the banks. Down in my heart I have always been as pure, as this limpid water is. Oh, to remain on a broad flat rock, and to cast a fishing-line forever!.
there are few people in the wild, and there are few wheels in the poor lane. The day is still chai men closed, the pure heart to cut off vulgar thinking. When the complex market music, pulling weeds * * *. Meet not to talk about the worldly affairs, only say the garden sang ma grows. My Tian sang ma is growing taller and higher, and my land of cultivation is expanding day by day. Often worry about the frost suddenly, the crops wither like the bush.
my heart in middle age found the Way, and I came to dwell at the foot of this mountain. When the spirit moves, I wander alone, amid beauty that is all for me. Sometimes go to the end of the water to seek the origin, or sit to see the rise of the ever-changing cloud. Occasionally in the woods meet a village elders, I chat with him chat often forget the return home.
the children in the village are in charge of their own affairs. Although children do not plough the fields and weave cloth, they also learn a kind of melon under the mulberry shade. 3. What are the poems about children's pastoral interests? < P > There are no poems about children's pastoral interests.
The following is a poem about pastoral interest.
1. I will walk till the water checks my path, then sit and watch the rising clouds.
and some day meet an old wood-cutter, and talk and laugh and never return. -"my retreat at mount zhongnan" Tang Wangwei
Translation: Sometimes go to the end of the water to seek the source, or sit and watch the rising clouds change.
I happened to meet a country elder in the Woods, and I often forgot to go home when I was chatting with him.
2. lean against the south window to show your pride, and consider the ease of your knees.
the garden day is fun, but the door is always closed. -"Going Back to Xi Ci" Tao Yuanming in Wei and Jin Dynasties
Translation: Leaning against the south window, I trust my pride and know that this small place is easy to make me feel at ease.
It is fun to walk (alone) in the garden every day, and the door of the small garden is often closed.
3. after a long time in the cage, you can get back to nature. -
translation of Tao Yuanming in Wei and Jin Dynasties: I have been trapped in a cage for a long time and have no freedom. Today, I finally returned to the forest.
4. No one has ever crossed the fence, only dragonflies and butterflies fly. -
Song Fan Chengda's translation: As the day grows, the shadow of the fence becomes shorter and shorter as the sun rises, and no one passes by; Only dragonflies and butterflies fly around the fence.
5. children and grandchildren are not ready for farming and weaving, but also learn to grow melons by mulberry shade. -summer village's Miscellaneous Fun Song Fan Chengda
Translation: Children don't know how to farm and weave, but they should learn to grow vegetables and fruits.
6. what's wrong with pitching the universe? -"Reading the Classic of Mountains and Seas" Wei and Jin Dynasties Tao Yuanming
Translation: Looking at the universe from pitch to pitch, what could be happier than this?
7. Hojo, Fu Tian, hail one another familiarly. -"a Farm-house on the Wei River" Tang Wangwei
Translation: The farmers returned to the village and met each other with laughter and love.
8. Go to the mountains and rivers for a long time and have fun in the wild. -"Returning to the Garden, Part IV" Tao Yuanming in Wei and Jin Dynasties
Translation: I have been away from mountains, rivers and lakes for a long time, and I am happy to indulge in the wilderness.
9. we open your window over garden and field, to talk mulberry and hemp with our cups in our hands. -"Passing the Old People's Village" Tang Menghaoran
Translation: Pushing open the window to face the grain field vegetable garden, holding a glass and chatting about the crops.
1. I don't care enough about clothes, but I don't violate my wishes. -
Translation of Tao Yuanming in Wei and Jin Dynasties: It's not a pity that my clothes are wet. I just hope it doesn't go against my intention of returning to the countryside. 4. Poems about philosophical beauty, friendship, patriotic children's pastoral
(1) Apart from writing at night [Tang], it's high and comfortable
The cold lights in the hotel don't sleep alone, and the guest's heart turns sad.
My hometown is thinking for thousands of miles tonight, and it's another year in the Ming Dynasty.
(2) Going home [Tang] Du Mu
Why is it too late to return? * * * Who fights for time and wins sideburns?
(3) homesickness [Song] Li Gou
People say that the sunset is the end of the world, and you can't see your home if you look at the end of the world.
You hate the blue mountains, which are still covered by dusk clouds.
(4) There is a letter from the capital [Ming] Yuan Kai, with a river of 3, miles and fifteen lines of letters. Only return home early.
[5] Look at the mountains with the master in Haochu to send relatives and friends to Beijing [Tang] Dai Shulun
The sharp mountains on the seashore are like swords and mangs, and Qiu Lai is full of worries.
If you want to turn into hundreds of billions of dollars, you can go to the peak and look at your hometown.
[6] Wen Yan [Tang] Wei Yingwu
Hometown. Thinking about the party is leisurely. On the autumn night in Huainan, Yan Lai is heard in Gaozhai.
⑺ Miscellaneous Poem (Wang Wei)
you who have come from my old country, tell me what has happened there! was the plum, when you passed my silken window, Han Mei is in flower?
⑻ inscribed on the wall of an inn north of dayu mountain (Song Zhiwen) 5. What are the poems that describe children as well as rural scenery?
The scenery is beautiful in the late days, and the flowers and plants are fragrant in the spring breeze.
the mud melts the swallows, while the sand warms the mandarin ducks. Leaning alone in the close bamboos, I am playing my lute and humming a song.
too softly for anyone to hear, except my comrade, the bright moon. The old friend prepared a good meal, and asked me to come to his hospitable farm.
we watch the green trees that circle your village, and the pale blue of outlying mountains. Open the window and face the valley vegetable garden, hand over the glass to chat about the crops.
wait till the Mountain Holiday, I am coming again in chrysanthemum time. The mountains are cold and blue now, the autumn waters are gurgling.
by my thatch door, leaning on my staff, I listen to cicadas in the evening wind. Sunset lingers at the ferry, supper-smoke floats up from the houses.
and sing a wild poem at Five Willows? is drunk in the summer. The cage bird is often attached to the past forest, the fish in the pool yearning for the past abyss.
open up wasteland in the south and return to the countryside. Around the house is about ten acres of land, and the thatched cottage of the thatched cottage.
the elm tree is in the back of Liu Yin, in front of Taoli Luotang. Jia Yi was exiled for three years in Wan Li, Ban Chao.
how to lead a white calf, drinking water is good for clean water. The quiet valley can not see people, only hear the voice of the voice.
where sunlight, entering a grove, shines back to me from the green moss. The open mountains bathed in a new rain, and the night came to feel the early autumn.
moonlight in its groves of pine, stones of crystal in its brooks. The bamboo forest is loud and clear, the laundry girl comes back, the lotus leaf jiggle want to go up and down the canoe.
and what does it matter that springtime has gone, while you are here, O Prince of Friends?. It's green all over the mountains and plains, and it's raining like smoke in the sound of Zigui.
In April, there were few idle people in the countryside, so sericulture was added to the fields. Plums are golden and apricots are fat, wheat flowers are white and cauliflower is thin.
no one has ever crossed the long fence, only dragonflies and butterflies fly. Don't laugh at the farmhouse brewing in the month of the muddy and muddy, in the harvest moon, the hospitality dishes are very rich.
there is no way for mountains and rivers to return to doubt, and there is another village. The desert is heavy with dark clouds, and the rustling rain hangs down.
it's a flooded ancient road, and it's full of wasteland. When will the five crops be harvested, several households in the isolated village will cook.
turbulence spreads through the nursery, and rotten leaves make autumn branches. The new firewood is wet at dusk, and the old fishing moves in the morning.
Last year, chrysanthemums bloomed in Dongli. The topmost mufuronghua of the branches, in the mountains in bloom of the scarlet calyx.
there are no people in the stream, and they all leave. The screen is on the water, and there are no mountains in the east.
the sun is hidden outside the mulberry tree and the river is bright and the well is clear. The shepherd boy looks to the village, and the hound returns with the people.
what's the matter if you're quiet? Jingfei takes the day off. The limpid river, past its bushes, running slowly as my chariot.
becomes a fellow voyager, returning home with the evening birds. A ruined city-wall overtops an old ferry, autumn sunset floods the peaks.
far away, beside Mount Song, I shall close my door and be at peace. Autumn is good, and Kuang Jun is idle in the pool.
under the leisurely Xilin, you know yourself in front of the mountain. Thousands of miles across the sky, several peaks emerge from the clouds.
when people are idle, osmanthus flowers fall, and the night is quiet and the mountains are empty. When the moon comes out, it surprises the mountain birds, and when it sounds in the spring stream.
its massive height near the City of Heaven, joins a thousand mountains to the corner of the sea. White clouds in the back of the synthesis of a piece, blue haze into the mountains disappeared.
a central peak divides the wilds, and weather into many valleys. Want to find a house in the mountain to stay, the water conductor asked the woodcutter can be convenient?
Look at the Golden Horse Gate, and take the road of firewood. There is no confidant in rural songs, and there is no relatives and friends at the end.
who can recommend Ganquan Fu for Yang Xiong? The dangerous path turns tens of thousands, and it will stop for three miles.
I see the disciples in the circle, and I see them hidden in the forest hills. Whispering rain, flowing stones.
in a deep stream, there is a long whistle at the top of a mountain. The blackbirds cast themselves into the forest, and the tourists were few, and the smoke from the former mountain went to Chai Fei.
the little boy paddled like a leaf, weaving a duck array to return home alone. Spring doves are singing in the house, and apricot blossoms are white by the trees.
hold the axe to cut down the poplar, and the lotus hoe the spring vein. Returning to Yan knows the old nest, and the old people look at the new calendar.
I'm afraid that I'm not at home, and I'm disappointed that I'm a traveler. In the slant of the sun on the country-side, cattle and sheep trail home along the lane.
and a rugged old man in a thatch door, leans on a staff and thinks of his son, the herdboy. There are whirring pheasants? full wheat-ears, silk-worms asleep, pared mulberry-leaves.
and the farmers, returning with hoes on their shoulders, hail one another familiarly. No wonder I long for the simple life, and am sighing the old song, Oh, to go Back Again!.
it's sunny and Yuan Ye is vast. Extremely clean.
guomen is near the ferry. The village tree is connected with the stream mouth.
Bai shui Ming Tian wai. After Bifeng came out of the mountain.
there are no idle people in the farming month. Pour out the family's family.
The mud mirror of the newly-built farm is flat, so every family can harvest rice while the frost clears. The laughter sounded like thunder, and the flail sounded bright all night.
I have sailed the River of Yellow Flowers, borne by the channel of a green stream. Rounding ten thousand turns through the mountains, on a journey of less than thirty miles.
rapids hum over heaped rocks, but where light grows dim in the thick pines. The surface of an inlet sways with nut-horns, and weeds are lush along the banks.
down in my heart I have always been as pure, as this limpid water is. Oh, to remain on a broad flat rock, and to cast a fishing-line forever!.
there are few people in the wild, and there are few wheels in the poor lane. The day is still chai men closed, the pure heart to cut off vulgar thinking.
in the music of the time-revival market, pulling weeds * * * comes and goes. Meet not to talk about the worldly affairs, only say the garden sang ma grows.
the days in Sang Ma are long, and the days in our country are wide. Often worry about the frost suddenly, the crops wither like the bush.
my heart in middle age found the Way, and I came to dwell at the foot of this mountain. When the spirit moves, I wander alone, amid beauty that is all for me.
I will walk till the water checks my path, then sit and watch the rising clouds. Occasionally in the woods meet a village elders, I chat with him chat often forget the return home.
the children in the village are in charge of their own affairs. Although children do not plough the fields and weave cloth, they also learn a kind of melon under the mulberry shade.