Song dynasty: Lu you
Don't laugh at the farmhouse music brewed in the muddled month. In the harvest month, the dishes for guests are very rich.
There is no way to go because of the winding water flow in the mountains, and a mountain village suddenly appears in the willow-green flower bay.
The day of playing flute and drums is approaching, and the villagers are still dressed simply.
In the future, if you can go out in the moonlight, I will knock on your door at any time with my cane.
A poem describing family harmony: the seventh miscellaneous pleasure of summer resort
Song Dynasty: Fan Chengda
During the day, weeding in the fields and rubbing hemp thread at home at night, the men and women in the village took on all the housework. Although the children don't plow and weave, they also learn a kind of melon in the shade of mulberry trees.
Poetry describing rural life
Alone, grass grows by the stream, and orioles sing on the trees. The spring tide brought the rain late and urgent, and there was no boat on the wild crossing.
Short hair is like scissors, and the sand stays flat and clean on the screen. I'm lost here, but I must go back. The horse is tired and weak at night.
This old friend prepared a delicious meal and invited me to his hospitable farm. Green Woods surround the village and green hills are located outside the city. Open the window facing the valley vegetable garden and pass the glass to talk about crops. Please come here to see chrysanthemums when the ninth festival comes.
The mountain is cold and blue now, and the autumn water has flowed for a day. At the door of my thatched cottage, leaning on my cane, I listened to the cicadas singing in the evening breeze. Sunset lingers at the ferry, and the smoke from supper rises from the house. Oh, when will I make a wish to the great hermit again and sing a wild poem under five willows? .
Lakes and mountains are my home, and willow trees are a path. When the lake overflows, egrets fly in the air and frogs hum by the lake. The new crop of bamboo shoots has matured, and the magnolia has just begun to blossom. Alas, let bygones be bygones, who * * * will sleep in afternoon European tea.
There is rain in the Woods, which slows down the smoke, and steamed millet pays for the winter hat. An egret flies over the quiet swamp, and mango birds sing in the trees in midsummer. I learned to watch the morning glory on the quiet mountain, which is delicious in Panasonic Zhai Qing. Why should I scare seagulls, even if I think about it, by giving the honorary position to any clown? .