preparing me chicken and rice, old friend, you entertain me at your farm, we watch the green trees that circle your village, and the pale blue of outlying mountains. Banquet Noodle Nursery, to talk mulberry and hemp with our cups in our hands, wait till the Mountain Holiday, I am coming again in chrysanthemum time.
Du Fu's quatrains
Beautiful scenery on the river in the late afternoon, fragrant flowers in the spring breeze.
Swallows fly in the mud, and Yuanyang sleeps in the warm sand.
Menbo Dongwu Wan Li Boat.
[ Song] Lu You
Don't laugh at the peasant's wine and wine,
Keep enough chickens and dolphins in good years.
There is no way to recover from heavy mountains and heavy waters,
There is another village in the dark.
Rain Over the Mountain Village —— Wang Jian crows one or two chickens in the rain, and Banqiao Road in Zhuxi Village. And the autumn waters have run all day, by my thatch door, leaning on my staff, I listen to cicadas in the evening wind, sunset lingers at the ferry, supper-smoke floats up from the houses, oh, when shall I pledge the great Hermit again, and sing a wild poem at Five Willows?.
Qing Ping Le Cun Ju —— Xin Qiji
Mao Yan is low and small, green grass is on the stream, and Wu Yin is charming when he is drunk, but who has white hair? The older one hoes the bean stream east, and the middle one is weaving a chicken coop, and he likes children scoundrels best. Moonlight was my homeward escort, looking back, I saw my path, lie in levels of deep shadow, I was passing the farm-house of a friend, when his children called from a gate of thorn, and led me twining through jade bamboos, where green vines caught and held my clothes, and I was glad of a chance to rest, wine chat * * * waving. Long songs sing the breeze, and the music is exhausted. I am drunk and happy again, but Tao Ran * * * forgets the machine.
"Four Seasons Pastoral Fun"-Fan Chengda
The mud mirror of the newly built farm is flat, and every family takes advantage of rice. The flail rang in the morning overnight.
April in the countryside —— Weng Juan
The mountains and plains are covered with white mountains and rivers, and the sound of rain is like smoke. In April in the countryside, when there are few idle people, sericulture is planted in the fields.
New Cool —— Xu Ji
The fields are full of water, the sun shines through the trees and the smoke is low. Oriole also loves new cool. Lonely smoke comes from other people. It's foggy and rainy, and there is no place to be restless. However, no one teaches the yellow calf to admire, and Cugu He Lao also advises farming. The old man is 7 years old and ashamed of the sweetness of bamboo shoots and ferns in the spring mountain. Is it because he has forgotten the taste and has eaten no salt in March recently? The sticks and quinoa have been wrapped in rice in a hurry, and the money has changed hands empty. They have won the children's voice well, and they have been in the city for a year and a half. I am ashamed of stealing money and forgetting it. Fang Nian has traveled a lot in his life.
Romantic Boy —— Sun Guangxian
Maoshe Jinlixi Qu. Chickens and dogs are from south to north. The leaves are long, the water is blooming, and the spring waves outside the door are green. Listen to the weaving, the sound is urging, and the shuttle is rolling through the house.
Partridge It's a cool day.
Village Scenery —— Chen Yuyi
Blowing horns at dusk to smell ghosts, and holding a pole to watch the geese at dawn. When silkworms go upstairs, there are few mulberry leaves, and there are many rice seedlings at the water-singing car.
Boats covered with white bamboo awnings are occasionally borrowed by Bao Chang to the village for a play —— Lu You
The drizzle on the eaves is wet and the river is clear. Admire the white-awned boat with its pavilion.
Two Poems on Confessions of Earth Village Entering the North Temple —— Wang Anshi
When the family leaves from the field, the city is divided into shady fields. He slips through the canal and walks in jasper, and the crops lie in Huang Yun. The thin hibiscus is stained with smoke and fat, and the musk deer is burned with deep water. When the sun sets, the chickens disappear. The cold dog is bitter and stubborn.
The Cottage —— Xu Hun
Yanyan went down to the autumn pond, and the Tian family has been busy since then. The vegetables were moved to the distant water, and the fruits were harvested for frost. The wild rice was slippery, and the mountain kitchen baked tea. When guests came, they still had wine, so they stayed in the Maotang.
Ride a cow to the mountain.
a message from my lodge at wangchuan to pei di
the mountains are cold and blue now, autumn water is gurgling day by day.
by my thatch door, leaning on my staff, I listen to cicadas in the evening wind.
sunset lingers at the ferry, supper-smoke floats up from the houses.
Summer value meets Yu Zui, and sing a wild poem at Five Willows?.
Zhuliguan
leaning alone in the close bamboos, playing the piano and whistling.
People in the deep forest don't know, but the moon is coming to take photos .. Stands autumnal in the evening.
moonlight in its groves of pine, stones of crystal in its brooks.
bamboos whisper of washer-girls bound home, lotus-leaves yield before a fisher-boat.
and what does it matter that springtime has gone, while you are here, O Prince of Friends?.
bound home to mount song
The Qingchuan belt is long and thin, and the horses and chariots go for leisure.
If the flowing water is intentional, the birds and birds will return at dusk.
The barren city is close to the ancient crossing, and the sunset is full of autumn mountains.
All the way to the Song Dynasty. Joins a thousand mountains to the corner of the sea.
clouds, when I look back, close behind me, mists, when I enter them, are gone.
a central peak divides the wilds, and weather into many valleys.
needing a place to spend the night, I call to a wood-cutter over the river.
my retreat at mount zhongnan
Middle-aged people are quite good at it, and they are late at home.
It's better to be alone when you are happy, than to know yourself when things are empty.
Go to a poor place and sit and watch the clouds rise. < Borne by the channel of a green stream.
rounding ten thousand turns through the mountains, on a journey of less than thirty miles.
rapids hum over heaped rocks, but where light grows dim in the thick pines.
the surface of an inlet sways with nut-horns, and weeds are lush along the banks.
down in my heart I have always been as pure, Qingchuan Lian.
Please stay on the rock, fishing will be over.
Weichuan Tianjia
The market falls at an oblique light, and cattle and sheep return in poor lanes.
Silk-worms asleep, pared mulberry-leaves.
and the farmers, returning with hoes on their shoulders, hail one another familiarly.
no wonder I long for the simple life, and am sighing the old song, Oh, to go Back Again!.
Xinqingye (working late) looks at Xinqingye.
XinqingYuan Ye is vast. There is no atmosphere and dirt.
Guomen is near Dutou. Village trees are connected with Xikou.
Outside Baishui Mingtian. After Bifeng comes out of the mountain.
There is no farming month. Hidden across the hills.
Whispering pines rain, gurgling stones flow.
Quiet talk is deep in the stream, whistling high in the mountains.
Seeing Nanshan Yang, the white dew is lingering.
The green trees are so beautiful.
I used to be ignorant, but I was bold and worried.
Brother Cui Puyang's season. A few peaks rise out of the clouds.
For Qin State, it's steep, and it's hidden in Jingguan.
The residual rain shines obliquely, and the birds in the evening are still there.
My old friend is still alive today, and I sigh with shame.
Lu Chai
Wang Wei
there seems to be no one on the empty mountain, and yet I think I hear a voice.
Back to the deep forest, shines back to me from the green moss. And I wonder how many blossoms were broken.
Bird-singing Stream
Wang Wei
People are idle with sweet-scented osmanthus, and the night is quiet and the mountains are empty in spring.
Birds are startled in the mountains in the month, and they are singing in the spring stream.
Zhuliguan
Wang Wei
leaning alone in the close bamboos, I am playing my lute and humming a song.
too softly for anyone to hear, except my comrade, the bright moon.
a night-mooring on the jiande river
And how clear in the water the nearness of the moon!.
In the mountains,
Wang Wei
White stones appear in Jingxi, and the red leaves are sparse in cold weather.
There is no rain on the mountain road, and the air is green and wet.
Living in the mountains in autumn
Wang Wei
after rain the empty mountain, stands autumnal in the evening.
moonlight in its groves of pine, stones of crystal in its brooks.
bamboos whisper of washer-girls bound home.