The clothes are getting wider and wider, but I don’t regret it anymore. ——Liu Yong's "Butterfly Loves Flowers"
The spring silkworms will not run out until they die, and the wax torch will turn to ashes before the tears dry up. ——Li Shangyin's "Untitled"
His brows are cold and he points his fingers at thousands of people, and he bows his head and is willing to be a Ruzi Niu. ——Lu Xun's "Self-mockery"
No one has ever died since ancient times, leaving a loyal heart to illuminate history. ——Wen Tianxiang's "Crossing the Lingding Ocean"
No matter if your body is broken into pieces, you must leave your innocence in the world. ——Yu Qian's "Ode to Lime"
Sneak into the night with the wind, moistening things silently. ——Du Fu's "Spring Night Happy Rain"
After collecting hundreds of flowers and turning them into honey, for whom does it work hard and for whom does it taste sweet? ——Luo Yin's "Bee"
Died before leaving the army, which makes the hero burst into tears. ——Du Fu's "The Prime Minister of Shu"
Falling red is not a heartless thing, it turns into spring mud to protect the flowers. ——Gong Zizhen's "Miscellaneous Poems of Ji Hai"
It fell into mud and dust, but only the fragrance remained the same. ——Lu You's "Bu Shuanzi"
"Butterfly Loves Flowers" Liu Yong
Standing against the dangerous building, the wind blows softly, looking at the spring sorrow, and the sky is gloomy.
In the grass-colored smoke and the lingering light, it is speechless who would lean on the fence.
I want to get drunk and sing to the wine, but the music is still tasteless.
The clothes are getting wider and wider, but I don’t regret it anymore. I feel haggard because of Yi.
"Untitled" Li Shangyin
It is difficult to say goodbye when we meet, the east wind is powerless and the flowers are withered.
Spring silkworms will not run out of silk until they are dead, and wax torches will not dry until they turn to ashes.
When you look into the mirror at dawn, you are worried about the clouds on your temples. When you sing at night, you should feel the cold moonlight.
There is not much way to get to Pengshan, and the blue bird is diligent in visiting.
"Self-mockery" Lu Xun
What does Yun Jiao Hua Gai want?
He met his head before he dared to turn over.
I pass through the bustling city with my broken hat, and my boat is full of wine.
His eyebrows are cold and he points his fingers at thousands of people, and he bows his head and is willing to be a Ruzi Niu.
Hide in the small building and become one, regardless of winter, summer, spring and autumn.
"Crossing the Lingding Ocean" by Wen Tianxiang
After a hard encounter, only a few stars were scattered around.
The mountains and rivers are broken and the wind flutters, and the life experience is ups and downs.
Afraid to say panic on the beach, sigh alone in the ocean.
Since ancient times, no one has ever died, leaving a loyal heart to illuminate history.
"Ode to Lime" by Yu Qian
Thousands of hammers were struck out of the mountains, and the fire burned like nothing.
I don’t care if my body is broken into pieces, I want to leave my innocence in the world.
"Lovely Rain on a Spring Night" by Du Fu
Good rain knows the season, and spring will happen.
Sneak into the night with the wind, moisturizing things silently.
The wild paths are all dark with clouds, but the river boats are only bright with fire.
Looking at the red and wet place at dawn, the flowers are heavy on the official city.
"Bee" Luo Yin
Whether it is on the flat ground or on the top of the mountain, the infinite scenery is occupied.
After harvesting the honey from hundreds of flowers, for whom does it work hard and for whom is it sweet?
"Prime Minister of Shu" Du Fu
Where can I find the ancestral hall of the Prime Minister? There are many cypresses outside Jinguan City.
The green grass reflects the spring color on the steps, and the oriole sounds good in the sky through the leaves.
Three visits to trouble the world, two dynasties to open the hearts of old ministers.
He died before leaving the army, which made the hero burst into tears.
"Miscellaneous Poems of Jihai" by Gong Zizhen
The sun is setting in the day when I am about to leave, and I sing my whip to the east and point to the end of the world.
The falling red is not a heartless thing, it turns into spring mud to protect the flowers.
"Businessman" Lu You
Beside the broken bridge outside the post office, it is lonely and ownerless.
It is already dusk and I am sad alone, even more windy and rainy.
I have no intention of fighting for spring, but I will let everyone be jealous.
It fell into mud and became dust, but only the fragrance remained the same.