Nalan Ci is the work of Nalan Xingde, a famous poet in the Qing Dynasty. Nalan Xingde (1655-1685), whose original name was Chengde, also named Rongruo, was a native of Langjia Mountain and a native of Zhenghuang Banner in Manchuria. The son of Grand Scholar Pearl. Kangxi Jinshi, first-class bodyguard. His poems enjoyed a high reputation in the Qing Dynasty. In the history of Chinese literature, Nalan's poems are dazzling. The following are poems about his autumn, welcome to appreciate them:
Mulan Ci? Antique Jue Jue Ci Cambodian Friends
If life is just like the first time we met, why is the autumn wind sad like a painted fan. It is easy to change people's hearts, but they say that people's hearts are easy to change.
Lishan’s words are half past midnight, and the tears and rain will not complain until the end. How unlucky is the man in brocade to wish for the same day with wings and branches.
Huanxisha
Who wants the west wind to be cool alone? The yellow leaves are rustling and the windows are closed. Meditate on the past and set the setting sun.
Don’t be frightened by wine and fall into a heavy sleep; gambling on books will make you lose the fragrance of tea. At that time, it was just commonplace.
Butterflies love flowers? Go out of the fortress
There is no definite basis for ancient and modern rivers and mountains. Amid the sound of horns being drawn, horses come and go frequently. Who can say anything about the desolation? The old red maple trees are blown by the west wind.
In the past, there were countless grievances. The iron horse fights, the road to Qingzhong at dusk. How deep is love? The sunset in the mountains and the autumn rain.
Butterfly Loves Flowers
I went to the place where the green poplar trees once folded, and without saying a word, I hung my whip and walked all over the Qingqiu Road. The sky is filled with decaying grass and there is no thought, and the sound of wild geese is far away heading towards Xiaoguan.
I don’t hate the hardship of traveling to the end of the world, I just hate the west wind, blowing dreams into the present and the past. There is still a long way to go tomorrow, and the clothes are stained by the fresh cold rain.
Butterfly Loves Flowers
The most pity for hard work is the moon in the sky. The past is like a ring, and the past is like a jue. If the moon is always bright and clear, the ice and snow will keep you warm.
No matter how easy it is to break away, the swallow remains the same, softly stepping on the curtain hook. After singing, the sorrow of autumn graves has not stopped, and the spring bushes recognize the two-dwelling butterflies.
Bodhisattva Man
The crystal curtain is a sad white, and the clouds and fragrances are far away. Speechless to ask for more clothes, the moon is already in the west.
The west wind whistles the weft, and no one is allowed to sleep in sorrow. Just last autumn, I felt like crying.
Reminiscing about the south of the Yangtze River? Reflections from Su Shuanglin Zen Monastery
I am completely disheartened, but I have yet to become a complete monk. The wind and rain wear away the farewell of life and death. It seems like we have known each other but we are alone, and our love cannot be awakened.
After shaking, the clear blowing is audible. The raindrops are floating in the dark, and the leaves of the golden well are drifting. When you hear the wind and the sound of the bell, you can recommend the beautiful city.
Nanxiangzi
Where to quench Wu Gou? A deserted city rests on a blue stream. It used to be the dragon battlefield back then, Whistle. The ground is covered with grass, frost and wind in autumn.
Hegemony and other leisure activities. A prancing horse and a fierce fight always grow old. Don't waste your time and become a marquis. How many heroes are useless.
Qing Ping Le
A sad and bleak Yellow Flower Festival. In the dream, the sound of the anvil did not stop, which made the crickets grieve even more.
The dust gives birth to swallows in the empty building, and the remaining strings and ropes are thrown at the bedside. The same morning breeze and waning moon are now adding sadness to my emotions.
Picking mulberries
Turning on the lamp and writing on red paper are still boring. The jade leak is far away, and the cold flowers in the dream are separated by the jade flute.
A few poles of bamboo are being repaired in the middle of the rain, and the leaves are rustling. Share the autumn tide, don't miss Pisces to Xieqiao.
Reduced word magnolia
We meet without saying a word, a hibiscus catches the autumn rain. The little girl is dizzy with redness, and the servant girl's heart is as bright as a phoenix.
Waiting for the general to call in a low voice, it was because he was concentrating on his feelings and was afraid of being seen. If you want to complain about your deep feelings, you turn around and knock on the jade hairpin.
Waves on the sand
The night rain makes autumn, which hits my heart and teaches him to cherish and protect romance. For whom does Duan cause illness, and for whom is it more embarrassing?
The secret love is never ended, and the secret wish is difficult to fulfill. The four-roll bead curtain and the moon serve as the building. Secretly recalling that the wedding day is really like a dream, but dreams must remain.
Huanxisha
Who spread the news to Jushuang? There are two rows of sloping geese in the blue sky, and the late autumn scenery is doubly desolate.
The person holding the silver garlic curtain is silent, and the jade hairpin knocking on the candle is full of letters. The yellow flowers bloom close to the Double Ninth Festival.
Qing Ping Le? Recalling Liang Fen
As soon as I heard the rain at night, I felt that autumn was like this. The people who surrounded the building were silent, and their dreams turned to sorrow without any evidence.
Thousands of chaotic mountains and rivers cross the river, I recall where you are when you are tired of traveling. Do you know the red candle in the small window? This night is desolate for people.
Huanxi Sand
I want to express my sorrow by the wild goose, but the westerly wind and the drunken wine leave my face miserably. The sky is blue during the yellow flower season.
The ancient garrison beacon smoke obscures the fortress, and the sunset village unifies the saddle. I don’t know how many people have returned from the battle.