Write 5 or 7 ancient poems with traditional festival rhythms ~

1. On the first day of the Spring Festival (Song Dynasty), Wang Anshi's one-year-old firecrackers sounded, and the spring breeze entered Tu Su in send warm; Thousands of families always trade new peaches for old ones. Song Ouyang Xiu, a student of the Lantern Festival, lit a lamp at the flower market last January. The moon rose to the willow tree, and he met me at dusk. On the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth day of the first month of this year, the moonlight and lights are still the same as last year. I didn't see anyone last year. I cried in the sleeve of Man Chun's shirt. 3. Tomb-Sweeping Day's "Qingming Hall Du Mu" During the Qingming Festival, there were many rains, and pedestrians on the road wanted to break their souls. Excuse me, where is the restaurant? The shepherd boy pointed to Xinghua Village. Fourth, the Cold Food Festival Cold Food Festival Spring City is full of flowers, and the Cold Food Festival is easterly. As night fell, the palace was busy lighting candles, and smoke drifted to the house of the prince and the marquis. Five, Dragon Boat Festival Mao Yizhong's five poems Lu You (Southern Song Dynasty) is more important than five mountain villages, and Liu Hua has suddenly become more. The poet ate two dumplings, and the executive was on the mugwort. I'm still busy taking medicine and prescriptions, trying to get sick safely this year. After this, it was time for the sun to set, and the family was ready to eat and drink. He drank the wine happily. Sixth, Qixi Tang. Tonight, Lin Jie will watch Yun Lan on Tanabata, and the Cowherd and Weaver Girl will cross the bridge. Every family watches the autumn moon, and every family wears HongLing. Seven, Mid-Autumn Festival Tianzhu Temple On the night of August 15, Pi Rixiu, laurel seeds fell to the moon and found a new flower in front of the store. So far, the sky doesn't exist, but Chang 'e should be thrown to people. Eight, the Double Ninth Festival is on holiday in the mountains. I think of my brothers in Shandong, Wang Wei, who are strangers and miss their loved ones every holiday. I know from a distance where my brother climbed, and there is one person missing from the dogwood.