Classical~: After much thought, I feel that the poems of the four of them are the most romantic
Li Qingzhao:
Linjiang Fairy
The courtyard is a little deeper, the cloud windows and the foggy pavilion are often exposed, the willow branches and plum calyces gradually become clearer, the moling trees return in spring, and the old people build a prosperous city.
There are so many things about feeling the moon and singing in the wind. Now that I am old and unable to achieve anything, no one can pity me for being haggard and even worse. There is no point in testing the lamp and I am not in the mood to walk in the snow.
Xingxiangzi
The sky and the autumn light turn into love and sorrow, and Jinying knows that the Double Ninth Festival is approaching.
The first try on thin clothes, the new taste of green ants, gradually the wind, the rain, and the coolness.
The courtyard is desolate and panic-stricken at dusk, and when I wake up from the drunkenness, I am worried about the past.
In that eternal night, the bed is empty under the bright moon. When you hear the sound of an anvil pounding, the sound of crickets is thin and the sound of leaking is long.
Dolly Ode the White Chrysanthemum
The small building is cold, and the night is long and the curtains are drooped.
Hate Xiaoxiao, ruthless wind and rain, rub the Qiong muscles at night.
It doesn’t look like the imperial concubine’s drunk face, nor does it look like Sun Shou’s frown.
Han Ling steals the fragrance, and the lady is a fan. Don’t compare it to the novelty, take a closer look, Qu Ping Tao Ling, the charm is just right.
The breeze rises, and the fragrance brews, not reducing the fragrance.
Autumn is approaching, the snow is clear and the jade is thin, and I rely on people infinitely.
It seems like melancholy condensation, Han Fu undressing the pendant, like tears spilling, Wan fan writing poems.
The moon is bright and the breeze is bright, the smoke is thick and the rain is dark, and the heavenly religion is haggard and thin.
No matter how much I cherish it, I don’t know how long I will keep it from now on. The favor is good, why should we remember it more? The east fence beside the river.
Wen Tingyun:
Dream of Jiangnan
Ten thousand people hate it, and the hatred is at the end of the world.
The mountains and moons don’t know what’s going on in their hearts, and the water and wind are empty and the eyes are dazzled.
Swaying green clouds.
Looking south of the Yangtze River
After washing up, I leaned alone on the Wangjiang Tower.
Thousands of sails are not the same, the slanting light and the flowing water are long.
Heartbroken Bai Pingzhou.
The Bodhisattva Man
The ground in the South Garden is full of light catkins, and I am worried about hearing a clear rain.
The sun is setting after the rain, and the apricot blossoms are fragrant.
Speechlessly, my sleeping face is smooth, and my pillow is covered by a mountain screen.
It’s dusk in the season, and I’m bored and leaning against the door alone.
Jiuquanzi
Luodai is fragrant, just like the red beans in farewell.
The tears are new, the golden thread is old, and the intestines are broken.
A pair of delicate swallows are still in season last year.
The green shade is thick, the grass is resting, and the willow flowers are crazy.
Dingxifan
In the spring evening of Xiaoying in the drizzle, the people are like jade, the willows are like eyebrows, and they are in love.
The emerald green curtain is rolled up for the first time, and there is a branch of flowers in the mirror.
Heart-breaking news from a poor family, wild geese rarely come.
Sidi Township
The flowers are blooming, and the branches are as red as the clouds.
Luo Xiu paints a curtain with a broken heart, and carries a fragrant carriage.
Looking back at the *** people chatting, the golden phoenix on the war grate is tilted.
Only Ruan Lang is gone and will not return home.
Lotus leaf cup
Nv Chu wants to return to Nanpu, it is raining in the morning. Wet and sad red.
The boat rippled into the flowers and made waves. Across the west wind.
Liu Yong:
Die Lian Hua
Standing in the dangerous building, the wind is blowing softly, looking at the spring sorrow, the gloomy sky. In the lingering light of the grass-colored smoke, there is no word as to who would lean on the fence.
I want to get drunk and sing to the wine, but the music is still tasteless. The belt becomes wider and wider, but I don't regret it anymore. I feel haggard because of the beauty.
Rain Linling
The cicadas are mournful, facing the pavilion at night, the showers have begun to stop. There is no trace of drinking in the capital tent, and the orchid boat destroys the hair in the place of nostalgia. Holding hands and looking into tearful eyes, they were speechless and choked. Thoughts go by, thousands of miles of mist, the dusk is heavy and the sky is vast.
Sentiment has hurt parting since ancient times, and it is even more embarrassing and neglected in the Qingqiu Festival. Where can I wake up from my drunkenness tonight? On the bank of willows and the waning moon in the morning breeze. After so many years, it should be a good time and good scenery. Even if there are thousands of customs, who can tell them?
Li Bai:
Listen to the flute in Luo City on a spring night
The sound of someone’s jade flute flies darkly and spreads into the spring breeze throughout Luo City.
Hearing the broken willows in this nocturne, no one can forget the love of his hometown.
Bodhisattva Man
The flat forest is full of smoke, and the cold mountains are sad and green. It's dark when you enter a high-rise building, and there are people upstairs who are worried.
The jade steps stand in the air, and the birds return home in a hurry. Where is the return journey, the long pavilion is shorter.