Eighteen Beats of Hu Jia is a Yuefu poem by Cai Wenji, a poetess in the Eastern Han Dynasty. This is a narrative poem with the word 1297, which is contained in Guo Maoqian's Poems of Song Yuefu (Volume 59) and Comments on Zhu Chuci (Volume 3).
This poem describes the tragic experience of exile in the war, his homesickness and his other son's painful return to Korea, reflecting the protagonist's suffering experience and rich and complicated inner world.
Through distinctive artistic expression, strong subjective lyricism and delicate psychological description, the whole poem successfully shapes the tragic artistic image of the lyric hero and creates a novel and unique poetic form combining Sao style with seven words.
I did nothing at the beginning of my life, but after I was born, the Han Dynasty declined. Heaven is ruthless and chaotic, and the earth is ruthless, which makes me meet this time. The road is dangerous and the people are in exile. Smoke and dust cover the wild, land rover prospers, and ambition is good and righteousness is lacking. Who should I sue for rude insults? After a while, I knocked on the piano, feeling angry and resentful.
Rong Jie forced me to get married and pushed me to the horizon. Yunshan is heavy, and the wind blows thousands of miles, raising dust and sand. Many people are violent and fierce. Like snakes, they are arrogant and extravagant. Two beats and one string, the string is heartbroken, heartbreaking and sad.
It is better to have no life than to go to the country of Yue Han and enter the city of Hu. Felt hair shocked my flesh and blood, and karma strangled my feeling of taste. Drums are ringing from the night, and Hu Feng is dark. Hurt the present, feel the past, feel the past, feel sadness, feel pain, feel pain.
I miss my hometown day and night, which is the most bitter. Natural disasters make the country chaotic and the people have no owners. I am the only one who has no luck. Different customs and different physical difficulties, different appetites, who can talk! It's sad to think about how hard it is to remember clearly.
The south of the wild goose wants to make a sound, and the north of the wild goose returns to the west to get a Chinese sound. Wild geese fly high, hard to find, but heartbroken and homesick. The folding of the eyebrows caressed Ya Qin to the moon, and the five strokes were profound.
First frost is cold and hungry, so you can't eat meat and cheese. At night, I heard the long water sobbing. I saw the Great Wall and the road was full. Looking back, it is difficult to pack your bags, and six beats of sadness come and go.
As the sun sets, the wind wails. I don't know who I'm talking to! Vilen is depressed, guarding Wan Li, vulgar, old, weak and young. There are aquatic plants to build homes and repair bases, and cattle and sheep gather in the wild like bees and ants. When the grass is exhausted, the sheep and horses are moved, and the seven beats are hateful.
When I was born, the world was at peace. After growing up, the national luck of the Han Dynasty declined sharply. Heaven will be heartless and shuddering; The earth is not kind, which makes me ill-timed. The war continues, and the world is particularly difficult; The Lebanese people are displaced, and their hearts are painful and sad.
The beacon smoke enveloped the fields, and Hu Bing plundered; I feel guilty for violating my original intention and losing my integrity. Xiongnu customs are very different, so it is difficult for Han daughters to be suitable. Suffering from all kinds of humiliation, who should I cry to? Hu Jia plays a section and the lyre plays a beat; Full of grief and indignation, no one knows who has no friends.
The conference semifinals forced me to be a concubine and carried me west to the horizon. The clouds in the mountains are heavy and it is difficult to go home; The wind blows thousands of miles and the dust is everywhere. Hu Bing is cruel, savage and fierce as a poisonous snake; Carrying a bow and arrow and armor, waving a whip proudly all the way. Singing two beats tightly on the string, the heartstrings are heartbroken; My mind is already exhausted, and I can only grieve alone.
Crossing the border of Han Dynasty and entering Xiongnu City; You have lost your home and your virginity. You can't live like giving up your life. Felt leather clothes are worn on the body, and the nerves are cold; The smell of mutton stinks, forcing me to swallow my tears.
The Hu people beat gongs and drums and turned them upside down, which bored me day and night! In the middle of the night, the wind rolled up the yellow sand and blocked the door unconsciously. The feeling of hurting today is endless, and the piano makes three beats; When you notice your grievances, when will the grief and indignation in your heart calm down?
How can I miss my hometown on such a day and night? Who can breathe in the world is worse than me? There is a disaster from heaven, the country is in chaos, and the Han people have no monarch; I can only blame my beautiful woman for her bad luck, and I have been reduced to Xiongnu since then.
With different customs, how can two hearts eat and live together? With different hobbies, who can hear the depression in their hearts? Looking back on my experience, there are many difficulties and obstacles; Hu Jia's four beats are also made, and the melody is rather sad.
The geese fly away until they disappear; So what if you are heartbroken! I can only think hard in silence. Lock your eyebrows and look at the bright moon, stroking and singing Ya Qin slowly; The tune of five beats is faint, and the sad mood is deeper.