Play for us again.And I will write a long song concerning a guitar. In the slant of the sun on the country-side,Cattle and sheep trail home along the lane;And a rugged old man in a thatch doorLeans on a staff and thinks of his son, the herdboy.There are whirring pheasants? It describes what the poet sees and feels about when he ascends the Stork Tower. The thread in the hands of a fond-hearted motherMakes clothes for the body of her wayward boy;Carefully she sews and thoroughly she mends,Dreading the delays that will keep him late from home.But how much love has the inch-long grassFor three spring months of the light of the sun? The modern style Tang poetry has relatively strict phonometrics requirements: a poem have a limited number of sentences that quatrains four; eight verses while each sentence with the word has level and oblique tones; there are certain rules, rhymes cannot be converted; verses also requires intermediate four sentences to be the antithesis. Your seven strings are like the voiceOf a cold wind in the pines,Singing old beloved songsWhich no one cares for any more. Schools of Poetry Don't wash your ears on hearing something you dislikeNor die of hunger like famous hermits on the Pike!Living without a fame among the motley crowd,Why should one be as lofty as the moon or cloud?Of ancient talents who failed to retire, there's noneBut came to tragic ending after glory's won.The head of General Wu was hung o'er city gate;In the river was drowned the poet laureate.The highly talented scholar wished in vainTo preserve his life to hear the cry of the crane.Minister Li regretted not to have retiredTo hunt with falcon gray as he had long desired.Have you not heard of Zhang Han who resigned, carefree,To go home to eat his perch with high glee?Enjoy a cup of wine while you're alive!Do not care if your fame will not survive! We were both so changedThat hearing first your surname, I thought you a stranger --Then hearing your given name, I remembered your young face....All that has happened with the tidesWe have told and told till the evening bell....Tomorrow you journey to Youzhou,Leaving autumn between us, peak after peak. My hair had hardly covered my forehead.I was picking flowers, paying by my door,When you, my lover, on a bamboo horse,Came trotting in circles and throwing green plums.We lived near together on a lane in Ch'ang-kan,Both of us young and happy-hearted....At fourteen I became your wife,So bashful that I dared not smile,And I lowered my head toward a dark cornerAnd would not turn to your thousand calls;But at fifteen I straightened my brows and laughed,Learning that no dust could ever seal our love,That even unto death I would await you by my postAnd would never lose heart in the tower of silent watching....Then when I was sixteen, you left on a long journeyThrough the Gorges of Ch'u-t'ang, of rock and whirling water.And then came the Fifth-month, more than I could bear,And I tried to hear the monkeys in your lofty far-off sky.Your footprints by our door, where I had watched you go,Were hidden, every one of them, under green moss,Hidden under moss too deep to sweep away.And the first autumn wind added fallen leaves.And now, in the Eighth-month, yellowing butterfliesHover, two by two, in our west-garden grassesAnd, because of all this, my heart is breakingAnd I fear for my bright cheeks, lest they fade....Oh, at last, when you return through the three Pa districts,Send me a message home ahead!And I will come and meet you and will never mind the distance,All the way to Chang-feng Sha. - -Who listens any more to me? We met last among flowers, among flowers we parted,And here, a year later, there are flowers again;But, with ways of the world too strange to foretell,Spring only brings me grief and fatigue.I am sick, and I think of my home in the country-Ashamed to take pay while so many are idle....In my western tower, because of your promise,I have watched the full moons come and go. -- -The evening bell comes to us from Nanjing.Your wet sail drags and is loath to be goingAnd shadowy birds are flying slow.We cannot see the deep ocean-gate --Only the boughs at Pukou, newly dripping.Likewise, because of our great love,There are threads of water on our faces. Alone with her beauty,She leans till dawn on her incense-pillow.

Rough were the mountain-stones, and the path very narrow;And when I reached the temple, bats were in the dusk.I climbed to the hall, sat on the steps, and drank the rain- washed airAmong the round gardenia-pods and huge bananaleaves.On the old wall, said the priest, were Buddhas finely painted,And he brought a light and showed me, and I called them wonderfulHe spread the bed, dusted the mats, and made my supper ready,And, though the food was coarse, it satisfied my hunger.At midnight, while I lay there not hearing even an insect,The mountain moon with her pure light entered my door....At dawn I left the mountain and, alone, lost my way:In and out, up and down, while a heavy mistMade brook and mountain green and purple, brightening everything.I am passing sometimes pines and oaks, which ten men could not girdle,I am treading pebbles barefoot in swift-running water --Its ripples purify my ear, while a soft wind blows my garments....These are the things which, in themselves, make life happy.Why should we be hemmed about and hampered with people?O chosen pupils, far behind me in my own country,What if I spent my old age here and never went back home? I still love the poems that I remember. --In a deep pine grove near the City of Silk,With the green grass of spring colouring the steps,And birds chirping happily under the leaves....The third summons weighted him with affairs of stateAnd to two generations he gave his true heart,But before he could conquer, he was dead;And heroes have wept on their coats ever since.

It not only inherited the five and seven words poems with the ancient style of the previous generation, but also developed into the narrative romance lengthy masterwork. You are gone. Chinese Children’s Song: Itsy Bitsy Spider, 8 Most Famous Confucius Quotes in English and Chinese, Mid-Autumn Festival Chinese Characters Handwriting Worksheet, 8 Chinese Sayings That Can Change Your Life, My Favorite Chinese Love Poem (1) The Yangtze Love, Ten Common Chinese Sayings and Idioms about Dogs, Let's Learn Mulan's Story in Mandarin Chinese (1) Mulan Joined the Army, Basic Rules for Writing Chinese Characters, An Original Good Night Song in Mandarin Chinese, Let’s Learn a Chinese Folktale Three Monks through Singing, How to Have Your Older Kid Keep Learning Mandarin Chinese at Home, Updates about My Children’s Mandarin Chinese Learning Progress, Original Mandarin Chinese Song: Happy Thanksgiving, Let’s Read in Mandarin Chinese Video: One Two Three Four Five, Chinese Classic Poem: Lodged at Jiande River. Poem in chinese characters with pinyin and explanation in chinese. --And sand, up from the desert, flies yellow into heaven.This Ninth-month night is blowing cold at Wheel Tower,And valleys, like peck measures, fill with the broken bouldersThat downward, headlong, follow the wind....In spite of grey grasses, Tartar horses are plump;West of the Hill of Gold, smoke and dust gather.O General of the Chinese troops, start your campaign!Keep your iron armour on all night long,Send your soldiers forward with a clattering of weapons!...While the sharp wind's point cuts the face like a knife,And snowy sweat steams on the horses' backs,Freezing a pattern of five-flower coins,Your challenge from camp, from an inkstand of ice,Has chilled the barbarian chieftain's heart.You will have no more need of an actual battle! Home of 300 Tang Poems 300 Tang Poems In Chinese literature, the Tang period (618-907) is considered the golden age of Chinese poetry. In late Tang Dynasty, Li Shangyin and Du Mu were two famous poets. --We await the news of victory, here at the western pass! Flowers are shadowed, the palace darkens,Birds twitter by for a place to perch;Heaven's ten thousand windows are twinkling,And nine cloud-terraces are gleaming in the moonlight....While I wait for the golden lock to turn,I hear jade pendants tinkling in the wind....I have a petition to present in the morning,All night I ask what time it is. --How many soldiers ever come home? The last few came.Flags and banners lost their colour in the fading sunlight....But as waters of Shu are always green and its mountains always blue,So changeless was His Majesty's love and deeper than the days.He stared at the desolate moon from his temporary palace.He heard bell-notes in the evening rain, cutting at his breast.And when heaven and earth resumed their round and the dragon car faced home,The Emperor clung to the spot and would not turn awayFrom the soil along the Mawei slope, under which was buriedThat memory, that anguish.


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