Ancient poems about writing osmanthus trees.

Write ancient poems about osmanthus trees;

1. goo goo sweet osmanthus

Song Li Qingzhao?

The faint yellow corpus luteum is soft, and the traces of love are far away, only fragrant. Why light blue and deep red? It's a first-class flower

Ding Mei is jealous, Chrysanthemum should be ashamed, and the Mid-Autumn Festival ends. A poet can be heartless in thought, but he got nothing in those days.

2. Dongcheng Gui

Tang Bai Juyi

Knowing from a distance that osmanthus is lonely in the sky, I don't want to ask Chang 'e.

The Moon Palace is fortunate to have a spare field, so why not plant two plants in the center.

3. "Lushan Ghost"

Tang Bai Juyi

In the middle of the month, the roots are in the sky.

The wind rises around the moon and blows to the earth.

Where is the vagrant committee? It is Lushan Mountain.

Life is a laurel tree on a stone with leaves as fresh as scissors.

The longer the branches are, the bigger the roots are.

Last month, I was middle-aged.

Lushan Mountain to Xianyang, the road is three or four thousand.

No one transplanted it. You have to go to the forest garden.

Not as good as safflower tree, it has been planted in greenhouse for a long time.

4.birdsong creek

Don

People are idle, osmanthus flowers fall, and the night is quiet and empty.

When the moon comes out, the birds are startled, and the sound enters the spring stream.

5. "On August 17th, Tianzhu Mountain sent osmanthus as a gift."

Song sushi

The moon lacks thick frost and dry pistils. This flower belongs to Yutang Xian.

On the eve of Jiu Feng's son's death, the branches of the toad cave were empty to remember the past years.

The monk who broke the precepts pitied Geng Jie, and trained a skirt to fight against Qing Yan.

I hope the public will pick you up, admire you, and don't send you to the old river bank.

6. "Breaking Huanxisha"

Song liqing Zhao

Rub the gold and cut it into layers of jasper leaves.

The spirit of grace, such as Yan Fu, is too bright.

Plum blossoms are heavy and vulgar, and cloves are bitter and rough.

Smoked a thousand miles of dreams, but ruthless.