Unknown ancient poems
If you are less than a hundred years old, you will always be worried about being a thousand years old.
The days are short and the nights are long. Why not travel by candlelight?
Han Anonymous Nineteen Ancient Poems Born in Less than a Hundred Years
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Life is only a few short decades, but there are often endless troubles.
Sorrow. Always complaining that the days are too short and the nights are too long, so what?
Don't raise candles for fun at night?
Picking hibiscus by the river, Lanzeduo fragrant grass.
Who is eager to leave? Thinking far away.
Nineteen Han's Anonymous Ancient Poems Picking Hibiscus from Shejiang River
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I crossed the river to pick lotus flowers, and Shui Ze was covered with blue grass.
Vanilla flavor. Who should I give the lotus to? I want to send it to a distant place.
Lover.
Do what you want to do, and part with you.
Thousands of miles apart, each in one day.
-Han Anonymous "Nineteen Ancient Poems Travel and Re-travel"
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Go, go, go, go on, and live with you like this.
The separation of life. From then on, you and I are thousands of miles apart, and I am in heaven.
Boss, you are on the other side of the sky.
The Green Mausoleum is on the cypress, and Leileixi is on the stone.
Life between heaven and earth, suddenly like a passer-by
Han Anonymous Nineteen Ancient Poems Qing Ling Bai
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There are green cypresses on the mausoleum and piles of stones in the stream.
People grow and live between heaven and earth, just like a traveler in a hurry.
There are strange trees and gorgeous green leaves in the court.
Climb a bar to fold its glory, you will think.
Han Anonymous "Nineteen Ancient Poems, Strange Trees in the Courtyard"
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There is a beautiful tree in the yard, full of green leaves, which sets off many flowers.
Flowers. I climbed the branches and picked one of them to give to others.
To those who miss you day and night.
I hate many poplars in Taiwan, and I am worried about killing people.
Thinking about going home, I want to go home for no reason.
-Han Anonymous Nineteen Ancient Poems.
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Poplar trees make sad sounds in the autumn wind, ah, that rustling sound.
Sad sounds make people sad. In troubled times, I want to travel around the world.
Go home, want to go home but can't find the way home!