Poems describing good tea

1, "Who reads the west wind alone in Huanxisha"-Nalan Xingde in Qing Dynasty

Sleeping soundly after drinking, gambling books have been scented with tea.

Take a nap after drinking, spring scenery is leisurely, gambling in the boudoir, and the clothes are full of tea fragrance.

2, "Partridge, Cold, Dawn on the Window"-Li Qingzhao in Song Dynasty

Wine column prefers bitter tea, and dreams are broken.

I prefer the bitter taste after drinking the group tea, which is especially suitable for me to wake up in a dream and smell the refreshing fragrance.

3. Nine Days and Luyu Tea-Jiao Ran in Tang Dynasty

Laity is full of wine, who can help tea?

Most secular people like to drink. Who really knows how delicious tea is?

4. Song Dynasty Jigang Fried Tea-Su Shi

The tea rain has been stir-fried, and the wind suddenly makes a diarrhea sound.

It is not easy to ban three bowls when heartbroken, but it is longer to sit and listen to the lonely city.

Tea foam rolls and floats like snow-white milk flowers in the frying place, and the boiling sound is like the strong wind in the pine forest shaking and roaring when cooking. The clear and mellow beauty makes it difficult for the poor to be confined to three bowls, sitting and listening to the long and short connections in a deserted city.

5. "Writing a pen to thank Meng for persuading to send new tea"-Lu Tong in Tang Dynasty

One bowl moistens the throat, two bowls are lonely. Three bowls of heartbroken, only five thousand words. Four bowls of sweat, life is not smooth, scattered to the pores. Five bowls of bones and muscles are clear, and six bowls are immortal. I can't eat seven bowls, but I feel the wind blowing under my arm.

After drinking the first bowl, my lips and throat were wet, and after drinking the second bowl, I was relieved. The third bowl scraped my stomach dry, leaving only five thousand volumes of words. After the fourth bowl, I broke out in a light sweat, and all the grievances I encountered in my life spread outward from my pores. The fifth bowl is healthy and clear, and the sixth bowl seems to be immortal. The seventh bowl has been eaten badly, and I only feel that the breeze under my arm is going to fly.