What are the words commemorating the death of "respected" predecessors, and the poems of "respecting and remembering"?

1) It's spring in the south of the city, but no one can see plum blossoms; Jade bone has been in spring for a long time, and ink marks are still locked between dust walls.

2) On the city, the setting sun painted a corner mourning, and the Shen Garden was not revived by the pool platform. Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, which used to be a stunning photo.

3) The dust is full and the curtains are floating, which really makes the darkness miserable. A few times, I secretly wiped my shirt tears and suddenly saw Cui Qiao next to the rhinoceros. Only hate, become boring, and even remain out of date. Dead poplar leaves are exhausted, and cold rain and west wind hit the bridge. -"Good China"

4) On the stranger, the warbler sings the grass, and the scales are wrinkled. Red beans in Jiangnan are bitter, and flowers bloom every year to remember you.

5) Forty years' dream, the willow in Shenyuan doesn't blow cotton. This body is a land of mountains and mountains, or a trace of death.

6) Silently swallowing tears will only ruin the past fickle feelings. Keep your knowledge by Dan Qing, Yingying. You can't draw it if you are sad. Don't be too specific Wake up early in the middle of the night. Clear words wake up early, like a dream, more. Crying endlessly, the rain bell is on the eaves of the night wind. -"Nanxiangzi"

I'm sitting here alone, mourning for both of us. How many years is my seventy years old? . There is a better person than me, and God rejected a son. Pan Yue's mourning is still a waste of language. Even if you can bury it, you can't tell a passion. What an illusory hope the fetters of the afterlife are. However, when I open my eyes, I can see the whole night, the lifelong troubles in your brow.

8) Close the lock and cover it with moss, and the gallery and pavilion are idle here. The prophet is dizzy in the windy month, but the cold flowers still bloom. The bat blows the curtain and turns, and the mouse guesses through the window net. I'm alone, singing at night with my lamp on my back.

9) Fifty strings, each with a youthful interval. Zhuangzi daydreaming, a saint, was bewitched by butterflies, and cuckoo crowed in the imperial spring. Mermaids shed pearl-like tears on the moon-green sea, and the blue fields breathed their jade to the sun. It's worth remembering that it had come and gone before I knew it.

10) Ten years of life and death. Never think, never forget. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, desolate and nowhere to talk about. Even if we don't know each other, our faces are dusty and our temples are frosty.