1, moon hidden star rare tears, tea cool wine light pen silent. The sound of rain knocking on the window lattice is tight, and my heart is bitter.
2, just near Qingming, ancestor worship, heart-to-heart talk. Tears shed clean, Cangshan is also sad and unforgettable. Endure to see the paper and silk have burned out, speechless and sad, and send the spirit to the distance. If you think of your parents, it is difficult to report your feelings. Kneel first.
3. Rain and smoke combined to stop the ship. Cangshan is silent, the wind is bleak and the still water is faint. Piaoli green grave far away, choking tears sprinkled with gold ou. Spring glow only exists in your drunken dreams.
4. since ancient times, cold food has been used to worship ancestors, and the wilderness is accompanied by breeze. Last year, the flowers thanked people for crying, and there was no rain. Today, the peaches in spring are not red.
5, the rain is green, no smoke and no wine. Xiao Lai hopes to catch fire with my hometown and dream with me all night.
6. The long-lost dream of homesickness is far away, and it is in the festive season today. So my ancestral grave knows who will sweep it, and I am allowed to wander in a foreign land. Wild looking at white clouds, flying bluebirds are too far away, and the frequent occurrence in a year is really impressive. Two brothers came to relieve loneliness.
7. The years in the guest are like the wind. Today, I am thinking about Qingming. I have hated it for twenty-five years, and I feel deeply sorry for it. Ancestors died of old age, and strict father drove cranes to Yaochi. He was full of worries and complaints, and sat alone in front of the lamp with tears in his eyes.
8, another year is clear, and the spring rain rolls around. Whose children are outsiders, kowtowing and burning incense and burning dollars. Before the funeral, I fulfilled my wish and prayed that the dead would become immortals. Swallow of pastoral flow, it must be a happy year on earth.
9. It rains a lot during the Qingming Festival, and wanderers miss their ancestors. Looking south to the wild goose, lingering thoughts are chilling. Whoever struggles all his life has no fault, and the merits of the world are recorded in the altar. Determined to carry forward the past and build a family.
10, the rain is falling, and the grass on the barren slope in the wilderness is not green. Under the ashes grave, the candle is fragrant and the wine is in the wind. Yao Si's loving mother is lofty in spring and gazes at the inscription with tears in her eyes. Lonely and worried, who is complaining, but watching the kite flying in the sky.