The ancient poem about "Weeping Willow" is as follows:
1. "Youth's Journey" by Wang Wei of the Tang Dynasty
There are ten thousand wines in Xinfeng, and there are many years as a ranger in Xianyang.
When we meet, we drink for you with our spirit. We tie our horses to the weeping willows of tall buildings.
2. "Picking mulberry seeds, the West Lake is good after the flowers are fragrant"? Ouyang Xiu of the Song Dynasty
The West Lake is good after the flowers are fragrant, but the red color of the wolves is gone, and the flying catkins are misty. The weeping willows lining the stem are exposed to the sun's wind.
After the music and songs have dispersed, the tourists have gone, only to feel the spring sky. The curtains are lowered, and the swallows return in the drizzle.
3. "Qingpingle·Rain, Clear Smoke and Night" by Feng Yansi of the Five Dynasties
Rain and clear smoke are late. The new pool of green water is full. Swallows fly to the Weeping Willow Courtyard, and the curtains of the small pavilion are rolled high.
I lean against Zhulan alone at dusk. Southwest crescent eyebrow. The flowers are falling and the wind is blowing, and the clothes are especially cold in spring.
4. "Jiangchengzi" Qin Guan, Song Dynasty
Drunk wanderers in the Qingming weather. Ying'er is crazy. Yan'er is crazy. Covered with green tassels and red tassels, the road is busy with traffic.
I remember meeting under the weeping willow tree, with carved jade pendants and golden clothes. ?
Spring is still the same old spring. Peach blossom fragrance. Lihuaxiang. Light white and deep red, all new makeup.
Sad and sad that the flowers are missing, one song and one thousand lines of tears.
5. "Shangshan Majian" by Du Mu of the Tang Dynasty
The clouds are bright and colorful on all sides, and there are more than ten houses of soft weeping willows.
The pheasants are flying and the deer are flying over the fragrant grass. The spring sun is setting among the chickens in the cow alley.
The old man with beautiful eyebrows drinks wine from the bottle, and the daughter with beautiful sleeves wears wild flowers in her hairpin.
While driving, I thought about the dust, and melancholy, I wrote in the fine sand by the stream.