What a beautiful night poem!

The beautiful poem of Night is as follows:

1, it's dark and windy in the moon, and it's a little lonely. -Cha Shen Xing's Night Book I Saw on the Ship.

Translation:

There is no moon in the dark night, only the lights on fishing boats, and the lonely lights glow like fireflies in the boundless darkness.

Appreciate:

This poem is like a sketch. The author captured the moment when the fishing fire reflected in the water turned into a starry sky, and several sketches immediately captured this fleeting scene. This poem is like a woodcut. On the dark background, it shows a little fishing fire, and the contrast between black and white is particularly sharp.

2, the clouds are moving under the starry sky, and the sky is cold. -Liu Yuxi's "Playing the Moon in Taoyuan on August 15th".

Translation:

Clouds gather, stars move and Yue Xian plays, which makes people feel cold. Jin Xin gradually moved eastward, and the shadow of the wheel still rose.

Appreciate:

Usually, I can calm down when I see the moon in the world of mortals, let alone the fairy cave in this clear autumn season. The condensed light falls like cold dew, and now I am standing at the highest place in Taoyuan.

There is not a cloud or a wind in the blue sky. You can see the tall pine trees on the mountain and the running water below. Those moving objects are in front of us, the sky is so high and the ground is so flat, as if we can see thousands of miles away: "Shao Jun" took me to the jade altar and invited the gods to meet me from afar.

The bright moon was there at that time, like a colorful cloud. -Yan "Linjiang Xian, Lock the Tower after Dream".

Translation:

After waking up, the bright moon is still there, and the colorful clouds are still there? In the emptiness, they are still relatives, which shows the poet's deep affection and infatuation.

Appreciate:

In the middle of the night, I dreamed that the balcony door was locked, and the smell of wine faded, but I saw the curtain hanging down heavily. When last year's spring resentment came to mind, people were faint and independent in the falling flowers, and swallows were flying in the breeze and drizzle. I remember the first time I saw Xiaoping, wearing Luo clothes and two heavy words. Pipa flick Committee tells the taste of acacia. At that time, the bright moon was still there, and it once returned with her colorful figure.