Poems describing sword dancing

1. In Tang Li Bai's chivalrous line, the phrase "kill one person in ten steps, leave a line in a thousand miles" reflects the superb swordsmanship of the chivalrous man, which comes from Zhuangzi Jian Shuo and "Sword of the Minister, kill one person in ten steps, leave a line in a thousand miles".

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The swordsmen of Zhao are dotted with tassels at will, and their swords are as bright as Shuang Shuang. The silver saddle and the white horse set each other off and galloped.

Within ten steps, kill one person, cross a thousand miles, leave no one behind. After you finish, brush off your clothes, don't show any sound, and hide in the depths.

Sometimes when I'm free, I walk through the county town, have a drink, and cross my sword over my knees. Eat meat with the sea and drink with Hou Ying in a big bowl.

Three cups of spit, five mountains are light. After dizziness and ear fever, I feel purple and neon.

Handan surprised to save Zhao Jin's hammer. Hai and Hou Yingcai are real warriors of the second century, and they are famous in the whole city.

As a knight, the death of chivalrous bone is also fragrant, and it is worthy of being a hero. Who can learn Confucian scholars, stay in books all his life, have white hair, and still write the Xuanjing? .

2. Tang Du Fu's view in "Gong Sundaniang Disciple Jianfa" that there was a beautiful Gongsun many years ago, dancing with her dagger and drawing it out from all directions. The audience is like a mountain lost between them, and the world moves back and forth with her movements. As bright as an archer shooting down the nine suns in the sky, as fast as an angel in front of a dragon's wings. She began to be like a thunderbolt, venting its anger and ending the shining calm like rivers and seas. "Gong Sundaniang fencing is reflected from the front.

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A few years ago, there was a beautiful Gongsun who danced her dagger from all directions.

The audience is like a mountain lost between them, and the world moves back and forth with her movements.

As bright as an archer shooting down the nine suns in the sky, as fast as an angel in front of a dragon's wings.

She began to be like a thunderbolt, venting its anger and ending the shining calm like rivers and seas.

But those red lips and pearl sleeves disappeared, and no one except this student smelled of her fame.

This beautiful woman from Linying, White God Town, still dances and sings happily.

When we answer each other's questions, we sigh together and feel sad for the changes that have taken place.

There are 8,000 ladies-in-waiting in the harem, but none of them can dance short sword like Mrs. Sun.

Fifty years have passed, like the rotation of a palm, wind and dust filled the world and covered the imperial house.

The disciples in the pear garden scattered like smoke, and the rest of the women were happy to reflect the cold weather.

The golden millet piled nanmu has been arched, and the grass in Qutang Shicheng is bleak.

The song has been sung, the slow-string allegro has stopped, the joy is in full swing, the moon in the east rises, and the sadness follows.

And I, a poor old man, don't know where to go. I must sharpen my feet towards illness and despair on a lonely mountain.