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On the thirteenth day of the first month": The spring snow in Nanshan has not completely disappeared, and the road and the floating beam step stone bridge. The dark green gradually returns to the tall willow leaves, and the light red is beginning to rise on the small plum shoots. The bell of the cold temple rang, and the candle shadow of the people in the twilight swayed. One night the east wind blew wine and woke up, dreaming back to the flower moon is the Lantern Festival.
Han Wei is a famous poet of the Southern Song Dynasty, elegant and vulgar, self-controlled, indifferent and leisurely, famous poetry, author of "Jianquan Collection". On the thirteenth day of the first lunar month, Nanshan stands majestically, the spring snow has not completely melted, strolling on the mountain path, winding, the small bridge and flowing water are murmuring, clear and bright. The branches and leaves of the willow gradually become dark green and verdant, and the plum blossoms on the tops of the plum trees wither and fall, and light red appears. The spring cold is steep, and the melodious and tactful bells are heard in the distance, rippling and echoing; At dusk, the candlelight of thousands of households flickered and flickered, and the lights were dim; The night is silent, the east wind blows slightly, and when the wine wakes up, the Lantern Festival is approaching.
Man Jianghong, on the thirteenth day of the first month, sent Wen Anguo back to the court": Is the sky ruthless? The sky is also solved, and the guests are affectionate. Spring is warm, the bottom of the morning is coming, and there is still light snow? Jun Guo Chun came to the group ribbon, I should return to Tanquan Stone. When I am afraid of strangeness, I am suddenly lovesick with wine, and the clouds and mountains are separated!
Floating things are difficult. People should be healthy, and their heads should be white. He is even more drunk, this joy is hard to find. If you want to complain to the beautiful woman about hatred, the tears have already condensed your eyelashes. But when Mo Xian Xinyan came, the music was overwhelming.
On the thirteenth day of the first month, farewell to make friends, reluctant to give up, Mr. Dongpo, a great poet of the Northern Song Dynasty, is grateful for poetry, euphemistic and affectionate, cordial and touching. The sky also has affection, and knows how to keep guests kindly. Spring has arrived, and when it is warm and cold, there are snowflakes in the morning. When you want to raise a glass and drink together, you are afraid that you will never meet again. Confide in each other about the pain of parting, tears wet clothes, hope that the fish book will be returned, and the friendship will last forever.
Picking mulberries and making two songs on the thirteenth night of the first month of Jiaxu": The light shines on the silver screen, fighting the spring. The cloister of the moon. Luo Qifeng is full of road incense. Jinling has been luxurious since ancient times, and it is not like a special prescription. Laugh at Pan Lang. Wandering to the ends of the world, alone.
The spring city drums made trouble for no reason, saying that it was close to the Lantern Festival. Hua Zhu has a high fever. It's even more lonely for good days. The slanting wind and drizzle knocked on the windows and sent depression again. Sick and bored. He Xing sang white under the bridge.
Gu Lan is a famous literary scholar in the Ming Dynasty, a rare talent, the poetry is called at the time, the poetry style is fresh and bright, elegant and open, and he is the author of "Fuxiang Collection" and so on. On the thirteenth day of the first lunar month, the night came with a slanting wind and drizzle, touching the scene, melancholy and melancholy, and giving words and feelings. Alone in the world, only lonely toast, drink with the shadow, close to the Lantern Festival, the sound of the flute and drum, melodious into the ear. The candles burned brightly, the drizzle was dripping, dripping and knocking on the windows, feeling lonely and empty, bored in illness, dreaming of returning to their hometown and singing.
The thirteenth south hall of the first month of Xin Chou: The small groove drains the fragrant milk, and the jade pot is injected with golden parrots. The crispy shop is a hidden recommendation, and the number of guests in the ring stove is non-stop. Dancing in front of the lamp with drunken ears, whining and not talking to children. Before the mountain is depressed and supportive, the window is covered with spring rain.
Zheng Gangzhong was a famous minister of the Southern Song Dynasty, talented, outstanding political achievements, clear and bright poetry, timeless and implicit, and the author of "Beishan Collection". On the thirteenth day of the first month, the banquet and drink in the south hall, the planning is staggered, the guests and hosts are happy, and the poems are remembered. The wine is fragrant and flows slowly into the jade pot, and the food is luscious and delicious, which makes people feel happy. Everyone frequently raised their glasses, drank heartily, sang and danced drunk, and was very happy, and the drizzle outside the window was cloudy, adding to the elegance.
Book on the Thirteenth Day of the First Lunar Month": The two days are the New Year's Eve, and the mountain city has tried the lights. The song was sent overnight, and the flute and drums were heard all over the street. People like new scenery, and the old is peaceful. Baitai who is the companion, Meiyue is crossed.
Xue Xuan was a famous thinker, physicist, and writer in the Ming Dynasty, who founded the Hedong School and the crown of Ming Dynasty, and wrote 46 volumes of "The Complete Works of Xue Wenqing Gong". Before you know it, there are still two days before the Lantern Festival, and the mountain city has begun to try to set off lanterns and firecrackers. The streets and alleys, the sound of flutes and drums, the melodious sheng songs everywhere, and the lights are bright. It coincides with the peaceful and prosperous times, the country and the people, everyone is smiling, cheerful and happy, the plum blossoms are fragrant, the bright moon is bright, and they can just be accompanied by each other.
Jade Leak Late: The Thirteenth Night of the First Lunar Month: The atrium is idle. Try the light season, try the fragrance weather. The snow is drooping, and the spring is cold like water. Stacking drums and strict city dark numbers, looking at the dense torch, frequent sales of remnants. The wind is up again. The moon is blurred, and the small window is deeply closed.
Several good banquets spread oranges, call silver armor to play the kite, embroidered scarves are fragrant. Looking for a happy scene, the mood is not helpless. Reversing the dream of returning to the south of the Yangtze River, only going around, the bottom of the jade plum blossom. Empty introduction. The night is full of clouds.
Yang Fangcan is a literati of the Qing Dynasty, with a significant political voice, good poetry, beautiful and elegant style, graceful and elegant, and the author of "Furong Mountain Pavilion Poetry Manuscript" and so on. On the thirteenth day of the first lunar month, the night is noisy and lively, coinciding with the time of testing the lights, the breeze blows gently, bringing the cold and unexpectedly, the light snow is blowing one after another, the faint yellow moonlight is blurred, and the doors and windows are closed tightly. Living in a foreign land, wandering at the end of the world, finally lonely and depressed, dreaming of returning to the homeland in the south of the Yangtze River, thousands of miles away, high mountains and long roads, it is difficult to calm down when you wake up.