In daily study, work or life, everyone knows some classic ancient poems. As a poetry genre, ancient poetry refers to ancient style poetry as opposed to modern style poetry, also known as ancient style and past style poetry. Are you still looking for excellent and classic ancient poems? The following is an ancient poem describing Thanksgiving that I compiled for reference only. I hope it can help everyone.

"The Wandering Son's Song" - Meng Jiao

The thread in the hands of the loving mother, the clothes on the wandering boy's body.

Before leaving, I was worried that I would be late in returning.

Whoever speaks an inch of grass will be rewarded with three rays of spring.

"Showing Old Clothes" - Zhou Shouchang

The thirty-year-old silk robe still exists, although the collar is torn but still warm.

The seams cannot be removed lightly, and there are old thread marks on them.

"Farewell to My Mother" by Huang Zhongze of the Qing Dynasty

"Putting up the curtains to pay homage to my mother, I went to the river beam. I am worried in vain and my eyes are dry with tears."

It’s a miserable snowy night in Chaimen, and having children at this time is worse than having none.

"Arriving Home at the End of the Year" by Jiang Shiquan of the Qing Dynasty

"My love for my son is endless, and I will be happy to return home." The cold clothes are densely stitched, and the letters home are freshly inked.

When we meet, we pity the thin people, and call them to ask about their hardships. I feel ashamed of the son of man and dare not sigh in the dust.

The kindness of a drop of water should be repaid by a spring.

I remember the hard work of my loving mother for half a lifetime, kneeling down to nurse the lamb, and repaying it today.

I feel sorry for my parents who worked so hard to give birth to me. "The Book of Songs"

"Mother Farewell Son" by Bai Juyi of the Tang Dynasty

Mother bids farewell to son, son bids farewell to mother, and the sound of crying is painful in the absence of light in the daytime.

The general of the Kansai Hussars, Xin Ce Xun was defeated last year.

The imperial edict granted two million in money, and Luoyang welcomed people like flowers.

New people welcome, old people abandon them, the lotus in the palm is a thorn in the eye.

It is not enough to be sad to welcome the new and abandon the old, but it is sad to leave two children in your family.

First he is walking, then he is sitting. He cries when he is sitting and cries while he is walking and holding people's clothes.

Your husband and wife Xin Yanwan separated my mother and my son.

It is not as good as the crows and magpies in the forest. The mother does not lose her young, the male and the female.

It should be like the peach and plum trees in the garden, the flowers falling on the branches with the wind.

Newcomers, newcomers, listen to me, Luoyang Unlimited Red Mansion Girl.

I hope that the general will be able to perform meritorious service again, and that there will be new people better than you.

"Motherly Love" by Yang Weizhen of the Yuan Dynasty

"Motherly love, love for the young, Zhao Jiaguangyi is the crown prince."

The steps of the dragon and the tiger change with each passing day, and the dog moves with the eagle and follows the trend with each passing day.

Isn’t there a child six feet below the knee? Ah Zhao and Amei are not crotches.

The ghost lights are blurry at night, and the heavy snow is falling.

If hundreds of officials don’t hold Dong Hu’s pen, what will happen to the orphans and widowers?

Suddenly, a silver pillar ax was poked on the ground in front of the bed, causing trouble for the books in the golden cabinet of the King of Han.

"Mo Xuan Tu" Mian of the King of Yuan Dynasty

Bright daylily flowers grow under the North Hall.

The south wind blows his heart, shaking it for whom?

The loving mother leans on the door with love, and the wanderer suffers on the road.

The sweet messages are sparse every day, and the messages are blocked every day.

Looking up at the cloud forest, I feel ashamed to hear the wise birds singing.

"Dan Ge Xing" by Wang Jian of the Tang Dynasty

When a person is born, the sun begins to rise. Going up the mountain late, going down the mountain quickly.

Thirty-six thousand dynasties in a hundred years, and the general will be strong for half a day at night.

Singing and dancing must be done early. Yesterday is better than today.

People think that men and women are good at birth, but they don’t know that men and women make people grow old.

Short song line, no music.