Classical Chinese writing describing the night

1. What are the poems or ancient prose describing the night scene 1? moonlit night

Liu

The moonlight is deeper than half a house, and the big dipper is withered south.

Tonight, through the green screen window, I know that spring is warm and the sound of insects is fresh.

2. the plug

Wang Changling

The general just stepped into a BMW with a white jade saddle to fight. After the battle, there was only bleak moonlight on the battlefield.

The drums on the wall are still echoing in the wilderness, and the blood on the sword in the sword box is still not dry.

3. Huanxisha

Maopang

Bamboo sends autumn sound into the small window, and the night is dark.

The small screen hides the candle, and the goose has no information.

Wake up from a hangover and have a sad dream. Painting Bridge dew month Cold Mandarin Duck.

4. Dianjiang Lip Cuiwei Garden

Shi Hao

Cuige Garden, the fire clouds bloom in the south. The jade wheel is beyond the sky. The night is as cool as water.

Kuang Youqing's songs advised me to respect floating ants. Spell Shen Zui. In the flowers. Sleep in a hazy pillow.

5. Journey to Tansha Yuan Xi

Maopang

Pull out the snow to find spring, and burn the lights the rest of the day. After the fragrant courtyard blooms. For no reason at night * * * Gaichun, Guanqiao Liujiaoyue.

The flower market is clean and the door is embroidered. Jiao Yunrui fog cage star. Shen Xiang's fire and cold makeup are small, and his dreams are as strong as wine.

6. Chun Xue

Han Yu

Look at the snow riding Qing Dan, no one is sitting alone.

Flowers are still light, and the first sale is warm.

I have been stunned by that fan, and I have come to dance with a lot of money.

Sprinkle a tight knot and send a willow strip.

Look in the mirror, stare at the swamp and cross the bridge.

All the steps are pitiful, and the trees are full of plays.

The river waves greet the sun, and the wind hunts the DPRK.

Turn around when you are idle, anxious and surprised.

The city is in danger, but the anvil is not pounded.

Don't worry about the gloomy scenery, but the night forgives itself.

Knowledge expansion:

Autumn night

Du Mu

Qiu Guang painted a cold screen with a red candle and fanned a small fan to drive away fireflies.

Day and night are as cool as water. Sit and watch the morning glory and Vega.

Translation:

In the autumn night, candlelight reflects the painting screen and beats fireflies with a small fan.

The stone steps at night are as cold as cold water, sitting in the bedroom staring at the cowherd and the weaver girl.

This poem is about the loneliness and bitterness of a frustrated girl's life. The first sentence is about autumn scenery, and the word "cold" is used, which implies the crisp atmosphere in autumn and shows the inner loneliness of the hero. Write two sentences to kill time and relieve depression by flapping fireflies. Three words: I can't sleep at night, waiting for good luck, taking the street as water to compare your love as ice. In the last sentence, I admire the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl to express my grief.

2. The poem "Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night" describing the night Du Fu knew the rainy season and the arrival of spring.

Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently. The wild path is dark, and the river is bright.

Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy. Li Bai can reach a height of 100 feet in the dangerous building of the overnight mountain temple, and he can reach for the stars with his hands.

Standing here, I dare not speak loudly for fear of disturbing the gods in the sky. One night-Zhang Jishuang, who was parked near Fengqiao, slept in Jiangfeng.

In the lonely Hanshan Temple outside Suzhou, the bell that rang in the middle of the night reached the passenger ship. 1February 15 Day and night, Yuan Mei became more and more anxious and gradually became silent.

The window is brighter, and it snows every day. On a spring night, Wang Anshi's golden stove smells fragrant and the wind blows cold.

Spring bothers me that I can't sleep, and the moon moves the railing. On a spring night, I heard the flute. Li Yihan plays the flute to call for spring return, and the guests see tears all over their skirts.

Countless geese parked by the lake in the evening have been eager to fly north until dawn. On a cold night, Du Leike came to tea as wine, and the bamboo stove soup was boiling red.

As usual, there are plum blossoms in front of the window, and there are plum blossoms before the month. On the night of spring, I bid farewell to my friend Chen Ziang's silver candle, spit out smoke, and gave a banquet to treat Yi with a golden jar.

Farewell hall in the hall to recall the friendship of friends, bypass the mountain behind the water, a long journey. The bright moon is high in the treetops, and the long river is still unknown.

To Luoyang, when will this meeting be held? Cui Tu, getting farther and farther away from Sanba Road, and I have come three thousand miles, anxious and alert, pregnant except at night.

On all sides of the mountains, the snow reflected the cold night, sitting in the candlelight night, I am a stranger here. Because the farther away from relatives, on the contrary, the closer to employees and servants.

It's hard to get through New Year's Eve in the drift, and tomorrow's update is the new year. At night in the pavilion, Du Fu and when the sunlight in winter is shortened on the elemental scale, the end of the world is frost and snow.

Stark sounded the fifth watch, drums and horns rang, and stars and Tianhe danced on three mountains. Wild cries and smells of war, I saw savage fishermen and woodcutters at dawn.

Wolong and Pegasus are not generals now. They are dust and the personnel are lonely. After a night out, Du Fu's breeze rippled on the grass bank, through the night, and blew to my still high mast.

The endless plains are dotted with drooping stars. The moon runs with the river. If only my art could bring me fame. The official took sick leave because of his old age.

Flying around, flying around, what am I like, just a sandpiper in the vast world! . Du Fu in the moonlight is in Fuzhou, far away. She is watching the moonlight and looking at it alone from the window of her room.

For our boys and girls, poor little baby, too young to know where the capital is. Her cloudy hair is sweet with mist, and her jade-white shoulders are cold in the moonlight.

When can we lie on the screen again and look at the bright light and stop crying? . Du Fu, a wanderer, heard the drums that predicted the battle. It was the first call of autumn, a wild goose from the border.

The dew turns to frost tonight, and the moonlight at home is bright! Brothers are scattered, and no one can ask about life and death.

It is inevitable to send books. What can you expect in the war? . The process of reward was presented to Han Yi, and a cold wind was quietly coming from under my mat, and the bare walls of the city turned pale under the autumn moon.

I saw a lone goose crossing the Milky Way, and I heard thousands of washing hammers on the rocks at night. However, I don't want this season to take me away.

I found your poem so beautiful that I forgot about the homing birds. On the night of cold food, Han lies in extreme cold and cuts the wind, apricot blossoms and snow powder.

In the middle of the night, the autumn rope is oblique and the pavilion is hazy and drizzling.

3. What are the sentences describing rural nights in ancient poems? The sentence describing "the night in the Dongting" in Yueyang Tower is: If it rains heavily, the moon will not open, the mountains will howl and the waves will be empty.

Autumn night in Mutu: Qiu Guang painted a cold screen with a silver candle, and a small fan flapped at the firefly. The night in Tianjie is as cool as water, lying watching morning glory and Vega.

Once the effort comes, there will be fewer stars around.

Untitled Li shangyin

The stars last night and the wind last night are in the west of the studio and the east of the cinnamon room.

Although my body doesn't have wings like a bright phoenix, what does it matter?

Guessing and intrigue, wine warms the heart; This group of people came to the bet of drinking friends, and a win-lose red in candlelight.

Well, why don't you come with me until the drums call me to perform my duties?

It's high and cold. Lissousen is in position. Big stars are shooting at each other, and little stars are making noise. Being unknown makes me sigh.

Foreign night

[Du Fu]

The breeze is rippling on the grass bank, and the dangerous wall is a lonely boat.

The endless plains are dotted with drooping stars. The moon runs with the river.

I hope my art can bring me fame and liberate my sick old age from the office! .

Flying around, flying around, what am I like, just a sandpiper in the vast world! .

Xijiang month

Xin Qiji

Middle section of Huangsha Road at night

What's with guanidine?

The cool evening breeze seems to have spread to cicadas in the distance.

In the fragrance of rice and flowers, people talk about the harvest of a year, and frogs croak in their ears, as if in a bumper harvest year.

In the old days, Maodian was near the forest, and the road turned to the stream bridge.

Man Ting Ye Fangsi

Xing Han is ruthless, Tianhe is intentional, and the southeast and northwest meet!

Looking outside the customs, there is no record of an old hut.

When I was a child, I talked about the mountains and rivers when I was a child. A few times, and all my friends are in the west.

Don't stay too long, push a glass for a change, and your cheeks will be red with drunkenness.

Li shangyin

The mica screen is deeply covered by candles, the milky way is sinking and the stars are sinking.

Chang 'e should regret stealing the elixir.

Wang Bo's Preface to Wang Tengting

Zhang Yu old county, Hongdu new home. The stars are divided into wings, and the ground is connected with Lu Heng.

I read it in a book on night on the boat. Cha Shen Xing

When the moon is dark and windy, the fishing lamp is high, and the firefly is lonely.

Slight wind and waves, scattered like river stars.

Shen Deqian-Stay overnight in Fengjiang.

Wild nights follow cold geese, the first night away from home. The stars are at sixes and sevens, so it is a bridge.

Xin Qiji's Jade Case Yuan Xi

One night, the east wind made up thousands of trees and flowers, blowing off the stars and rain. BMW carved cars are full of incense. Phoenix flute moves, jade pot turns, fish dragon dances all night.

Lipper

The tall buildings of the temple on the mountain are really high, like a hundred feet. People upstairs are like a hand that can pick off the stars in the sky.

Standing here, I dare not speak loudly for fear of disturbing the gods in the sky.

Nineteen ancient poems

Distant Altair, Jiao Jiao Hehan girl.

Skillful hands, make a loom.

There is no chapter all day, and tears are pouring down.

The river is clear and shallow, and there are many differences.

4. Sentences describing moonlight, not ancient prose and poetry. The moonlight is as clear and transparent as water, and the earth is like a veil.

This is my tired moon hiding in the clouds to rest, leaving only a few stars as if watching. The moon hangs obliquely in the sky, smiling, and the stars are crowded with the milky way, flashing.

A full moon rises, like a bright lamp, hanging high in the sky. The moon opened its eyes wide and looked kindly at the villages and fields, much like a polished copper plate.

The full moon is rising, and a gentle smile appears on her silvered face. The bright full moon was lifted by the distant blue mountain and rose to the sky.

The moon, round, is like a spinning wheel, spinning her romantic reverie. At night, it's very quiet. The full moon like a jade plate passes through the clouds, and the faint moonlight shines on the earth.

An apricot full moon climbed out of the mountain mouth and threw its reflection into the lake. The full moon, like a yellow lantern, is stirred in the sky from the eastern horizon.

At night, the full moon rises, and a piece of peace shines on the earth with the silver moonlight. The moon rises gradually, and she is dressed in white gauze, quiet and serene, gentle and generous.

Her silver face left a gentle smile through the willow branches. The moon, like a newly married daughter-in-law, just came up from the eastern horizon and shyly got into the leaves to hide.

The moon is like a weather-beaten old man, slowly combing the glistening moonlight. The moon is like a shy girl, hiding in the clouds for a while, and unveiling her charming face for a while, so that the whole world is immersed in the dreamy silver gray by moonlight.

The moon is so bright that it turns the earth into snow blue, and trees, houses and streets are like a layer of mercury. At the western end of the forest outside the door, the hanging first quarter moon has turned into a golden watermelon, not a curved eyebrow.

In the morning, the waning moon is like a tarnished pebble, which is thrown in the horizon. A crescent moon, like a white pear, quietly opens in the light blue sky.

The night sky is starry, and the moon is like a fishing boat, as if sailing in a wide silver river. The moon is like a bow, bending in the sky.

A crescent moon rises from the distant forest. It is as white as newly refined silver. A crescent moon, like a silver sickle, protrudes from the dark mountain peak.

A crescent moon rises, like a jade carving banana embedded in the sky, with bright blue light. A crescent moon, like a boat, with its pointed bow facing upward, crossed the quiet lake at night, giving me a feeling.

A crescent moon is high in the deep blue sky, and the clear water shines on the earth. The crescent moon is like a golden boat moored among the branches.

Half the moon hangs obliquely on the top of the locust tree, like an orange petal. The moon is as small as a hairpin and intoxicating.

A hazy moon is emerging from the cicada-like transparent clouds in the forest, shining with silver brilliance. A curved silver hook in the night sky emits infinite light.

The crescent moon is curved like a girl's mouth, with a sweet smile. Under the crescent moon and above the willow tip, there are a pair of stars like the eyes of a smiling fairy, teasing the curved crescent moon and swaying willow branches.

The crescent moon is like a silver boat. The crescent moon outside the window is like chrysanthemum petals in the blue night sky.

The curved crescent moon shuttles through the thin clouds, lively and lovely like barracuda. The crescent moon is like a girl's eyebrows, winding in the pure air.

The moon rises, red and dizzy, as if someone had stirred up a red lantern from the eastern horizon. The moon has risen, like a newly dehydrated jade wheel ice tray, without any dust.

Moon girl got up, as if talking quietly with the little stars around her. A full moon is rising in Ran Ran, and the silvery moonlight reflects a few feathery clouds, which is very beautiful.

The rising moon hangs on the top of the mountain. Although pale as a cloud, it is getting brighter all the time. The moon went out to sea.

At the moment of flying, it seems to jump suddenly and be splashed all over by waves, so that the affectionate sea can wash it and make it bright and clean. A soft moonlight shone through the window and on the windowsill, as if it were plated with a layer of silver.

The moonlight hangs down from the window like a silver soft yarn. The moonlight passed through the shade, leaving behind glittering jade.

The full moon on the fifteenth day is like a snowball, embedded in the dark blue night sky, which is particularly bright. Leng Yue hung its branches high, and the cold wind blew the bare branches.

The moon in early winter, clear and cold, pours out Yin Hui like ice from the west. The moon finally rose to the clear sky, dazzling white.

The moon rose from the edge of the forest, emitting cold light, making the snow-covered fields look particularly white and making people feel colder. Thousands of stars are like pearls in the night sky, shining with the light of Yin Hui.

As night falls, the blue sky is dotted with countless little stars, flashing as if inviting people to travel in the vast space. Without the moon, the stars twinkle like dew on a big lotus leaf.

You can also translate the meaning of ancient poems, which are also about the moon.

5. Find the words 1 that describe the night. Nocturnal writing is an elf whose fingertips jump. They flap their sensitive noses and bring refreshing fragrance to your dreams. Although there is no dazzling aura and gorgeous colors, they are all dull. Truth is full of pen and ink, dotted with ordinary life. With such a night, it has been complete and full. With such words in the night, the sun and the moon are awake, drunk, drunk, drunk. I am drunk alone, drunk tonight, and your distant wishes are filled with light. 2. I like writing at night, and my so-called "writing" is done at night.

The pen that is difficult to write during the day is smooth at night, probably because the twilight has narrowed the distance between me and the words. There is no light in the post station of literature. With light, literature loses its mystery.

Every time I mention a pen, I feel that I am standing at the door of a literary post. The darkness in front of me will attract me to go inside. What is the world like over there? Is it a bright paradise in some people's eyes, or a strange magic mountain in front of Hans Castop, or a secluded path in Cuilin written by Zhimo? The tunnel mouth disappeared and I woke up from my dream.

Someone once asked me why your articles are always deep and why the background color in your articles is always bright. I want to say that the words I try to approach in the dark are not the so-called black in Zhang Xianliang's Accustomed to Death, nor the gloom of Anne Baby, but a stage that can let me see the truth and a fertile ground that can lead me to the light. "The night gave me black eyes, but I used them to look for light," the writer said.

And I'm not a writer, at best, I'm just a graffiti person. Writers have the ability to hit the nail on the head from a strategic position. They face the sea, talking and laughing, and everything is clear and natural.

For me, words are just a little candlelight, and a little fire floating in the dark can only illuminate the scenery in an instant. Yes, I can't find the entrance to the literature tunnel. Maybe it will always be a mystery to me.

So I cherish every night. In the night air, I silently breathe the breath of waking up in the morning, silently catching the message from another world.

Exploring in the dark sea, you don't need to be afraid of the dark, and you don't need to shout for courage. I'm not an explorer, I "explore" by candlelight.

The night passed, I emerged from the sea, and the sunshine during the day sent me into the real sky. These are nothing more than telling me that I went again in the dark and still faced the dark entrance. I have a heavy lamp. I will walk through the sunshine, step into the darkness and continue to explore by candlelight.

At this point, I took a break, took a sip of tea and moved on. I still believe; On the journey of literature, there is a path after the road is over. As long as you keep going, there will be countless scenery.

At night, I am a silent lamb. On the road, silence is my companion and candlelight is my sight. 3. The saxophone, wandering and lonely in the dark, drowns the noise of the day with blurred and lingering tenderness, and caresses the feelings of the night with a detour that wants to rest.

The birds slept, the autumn rain slept, and the wind slept? I really want to know: is the person I miss in the distance asleep at the moment? Are you okay? Dreams.-okay? I asked quietly in the shadow of the lamp, listening to the soft and ethereal melody. Why doesn't the wind sleep? Sneaking into the window, lingering in my long neck, but trying to take away a thousand words that I choked in my throat? Why doesn't shadow sleep? Fluttering scattered stars, nestled in the deep embrace of the earth, but want to eavesdrop on my words buried deep in my heart? Suddenly, I found that the moon didn't sleep either. It was looking at me kindly and tenderly.

So the moon can be so close to me. It is not hanging in the distant sky. It's right in front of me, in the crystal cup that I can reach. Will the moon wait for you in such a close place? Is there an equally beautiful picture hidden in your white tea cup, with a faint fragrance? Oh, I don't know how to keep the moon. I know the moon will leave me when the sun comes out.

Just like I don't know how to leave my childhood, I can only read one calendar after another and take my childhood away; Just like I don't know how to leave a beautiful dream, I can only listen to the birds singing again and again, disturbing the dream's detachment; Just like I don't know how to leave my loved ones, I can only wait again and again, expecting them and sending them away ... Perhaps, thousands of things can't be kept, just weaving the tassels of life? Perhaps, reciprocating distance is the painting of years? Maybe, maybe the cycle of waiting and expecting is a dream given to me by God? Faint thoughts, like birds gliding in the faint whistling of saxophone, drift away and finally disappear at the corner of the wind. I'm dreaming, too. Dreams always have so many temptations for me.

However, I still can't know what kind of story will be staged in tonight's dream, and I can't know who the story will be. Who is saying: If you can make the moonlight ripple in poetry, if you can make your childhood meander in fairy tales, if you can write Juanjuan's notes on the whisper spectrum of dreams, if you can engrave your cherished family deeply in your heart, you will leave all your cares, and you will leave Qian Qian's beauty in the world ... I will sleep soundly, but who hasn't slept yet? Is it the wind, the moon, or the person I miss? .