What are the ancient poems about Qingming Festival Qingming Poetry Appreciation

Ancient poems about Qingming Festival are as follows:

1. Qingming - Tang Dynasty: Du Mu

There is a flurry of rain during Qingming Festival, and the pedestrians on the road want to break their souls.

Where are the taverns? The shepherd boy pointed to the village of apricot blossoms.

Translation:

The rain fell during the Qingming Festival in Jiangnan, and the pedestrians on the road all wanted to break their souls.

Ask the locals where they can buy wine to drown their sorrows. The shepherd boy smiled and pointed to a village deep in the apricot blossoms.

2. Qingming - Song Dynasty: Wang Yucheng

No flowers, no wine, no flowers at Qingming.

Yesterday, the neighbors begged for a new fire, and the window was divided into reading lamps.

Translation:

Spending the Ching Ming Festival without flowers or wine, the monk who lives in a temple in the mountainous countryside is as depressed as the one who lives in a temple in the wilderness.

Yesterday I begged a freshly lit fire from a neighboring house, and at the break of dawn I lighted a lamp in front of the window and sat down to dive into my studies.

3. Qingming - Song Dynasty: Huang Tingjian

The festival of Qingming is a time for smiling peaches and plums, and the wild fields and barren graves are only a source of sorrow.

Thunderstorms in the world, the dragon and snake hibernation, rain foot countryside grass and trees soft.

People beg to sacrifice their concubines and women, while soldiers are willing to burn to death.

Who are the wise and the foolish in a thousand years, and who are they?

Translation:

At the time of the Qingming Festival, peaches and plums bloom with smiles. The graves in the fields that are full of weeds are dismal.

Spring thunder rolls, awakening the hibernating dragons and snakes; spring rain is abundant, moisturizing the countryside, making the grass and trees green and soft.

Anciently, there was a man from Qi who went in and out of graves begging for food to boast to his wives and concubines, and there was also Jie Zi Tui who refused to become an official and was burned to death by a fire.

Whether it is a sage or a mediocrity, who will know after a thousand years? In the end, what remains in the world is nothing more than a mess of weeds.