Poems about memories

1, "Who reads the west wind alone in Huanxisha" Qing: Nalanxingde?

Who reads the west wind alone, rustling yellow leaves and closing the window, reminiscing about the past and setting the sun.

It was unusual at that time to get drunk in spring and gamble on books and pour tea.

Translation:

The autumn wind blows cold, who misses that lonely feeling? Watching the yellow leaves dancing to cover the window, standing in the sunset, recalling the past. Take a nap after drinking, the spring is suddenly leaking, the boudoir is gambling, and the skirt is scented with tea. The past is normal and I can't get what I want.

2. "Year after year in the snow" Song Dynasty: Li Qingzhao?

When I was a child, it snowed every year, and I often indulged in the enthusiasm of plums. Later, although the effect was in hand, I was not in a good mood to enjoy it. I could only rub it at will, but I got tears on my clothes.

I lived in a remote place when the plum blossoms were in bloom this year, and my ears were short and thin. Look at the plum blossom blown by the night wind, and it is probably hard to see its gorgeous.

Translation:

When I was a child, it snowed every year, and I was often addicted to the interest in plum blossom. Later, although Mei Zhi had it, she was not in a good mood to enjoy it. She just wiped it casually, but tears flowed all over her clothes.

When the plum blossom bloomed again this year, I lived alone in a very remote place, and my short and thin hair in my ears had turned gray. Looking at the blooming plum blossom blowing in the wind that night, it is probably hard to see its splendor.

3. Five Dynasties "Queta, Six Songs, Dead Trees and Green Flowers": Feng Yansi.

Six songs lean against the green trees, the willow wind is light, and the golden glow is exhibited. Who moved the cymbals and Zheng to the jade column and flew over the curtain and Haiyan?

Eyes full of gossamer catkins, when red apricots bloom, it will be sunny and rainy for a while. When you sleep, you will talk nonsense, be in shock and have a good dream.

Translation:

In the shade, a unique and quiet building stands quietly alone, and the winding railings are close to the green trees, which set each other off. The spring breeze is warm and gentle, and the yellow-green willows are swaying in the wind.

The spring is beautiful, the sky is clear in Wan Li, the hairspring is curling, and catkins are flying. This is already the scene of late spring. Just as the apricot blossoms were in full bloom and delicate and charming, it began to rain lightly.

In such a deep relationship, she couldn't help falling asleep. While sleeping soundly, she was awakened by the crisp sound of warblers outside the window, and her dream was nowhere to be found.

4. Song Shenyuan's Two Poems: Lu You

On the city, the setting sun painted a corner mourning, and the non-pool platform in the garden revived.

Under the sad bridge, the spring waves are green, which used to be a stunning photo.

The dream is broken and fragrant for forty years, but the willow in Shenyuan doesn't blow cotton.

This body is a land of mountains and mountains, or a trace of death.

Translation:

The sound of painting corners on the wall seems to be mourning, and Shen Garden is no longer the original Chige.

The spring water under the sad bridge is still green, and I have seen her beautiful shadow floating here like a rainbow.

It has been more than forty years since her death, and the willow trees in Shenyuan are too old to talk about.

I'm about to turn into a pile of dirt in Huiji Mountain, and I'm still here to mourn and cry.

5, "Partridge Sky, One Guest Talk about Fame Because of Young Current Affairs" Song Dynasty: Xin Qiji

When I was young, I took 10,000 soldiers and elite cavalry and spent too much time with them. Jinmen soldiers are preparing quiver at night, and our Han army shoots arrows at the enemy's mother-in-law early in the morning.

Recalling the past and lamenting myself today, the spring breeze can't dye my white beard black. I think these tens of thousands of words can pacify Jin's strategy and exchange people from the east for the book of trees.

Translation:

When I was young, I crossed the Yangtze River with more than 10,000 soldiers and elite cavalry. Jin's soldiers prepared rocket launchers at night, but our Han army fired an arrow named Jinpu Valley at the enemy in the early morning.

Recalling the past and sighing about myself now, spring breeze can't dye my white beard black. I think we should change the tens of thousands of words' strategy of pacifying Jin people into a book of planting trees with orientals.