Poems about compassion

1. Ancient poems about compassion

1. "Bee" - Luo Yin

Regardless of the flat land or the top of the mountain, the infinite scenery is occupied.

After collecting hundreds of flowers into honey, for whom does it work hard and for whom is it sweet?

Translation: Whether on the plains or in the mountains, wherever flowers bloom in the wind, bees are busy everywhere. Bee, you collect all the flowers and turn them into nectar. Who do you work hard for, and who do you want to taste the sweetness?

2. "The Charcoal Seller" - Bai Juyi

The Charcoal Seller cut firewood and burned charcoal in the southern mountains.

His face was dusty and smoky, his temples were gray and his fingers were black.

Where do you get money from selling charcoal? The clothes on your body and the food in your mouth.

Poor, I am wearing only plain clothes, and I am worried that the weather will be cold.

There is a foot of snow outside the city at night, and at dawn the charcoal cart rolls over the ice tracks.

The cows were trapped and the people were hungry. The sun was getting high and they rested in the mud outside the south gate of the city.

Who are the two Pian Pian cavalry coming? The messenger in yellow is in white.

Holding the document in his hand and pronouncing the edict orally, he returned to the carriage and shouted at the oxen to lead them north.

A cart of charcoal weighs more than a thousand kilograms, and the palace envoy will regret it.

Half a piece of red gauze and one foot of silk are fastened to the cow's head and filled with charcoal.

Translation: There was an old man selling charcoal, who spent the whole year cutting firewood and burning charcoal in the Nanshan Mountains. His face was covered with dust and looked burnt by smoke, his hair on his temples was gray, and his ten fingers were blackened by charcoal. What do you use the money you get from selling charcoal? Buy the clothes you wear and the food you eat. Unfortunately, he was only wearing thin clothes, but he was worried that he would not be able to sell the charcoal, and he also hoped that the weather would be colder. A foot of heavy snow fell outside the city at night. In the early morning, the old man drove his charcoal cart over the frozen wheel tracks to the market.

The cattle were tired and the people were hungry, but the sun had risen very high. They rested in the mud outside the south gate of the market. Who is that proud man riding two horses? They were the eunuchs and eunuch's subordinates in the palace. The eunuch held the document in his hand, but said it was the emperor's order, and shouted at the ox to pull it towards the palace. A cart of charcoal weighed more than a thousand kilograms, and the eunuchs and servants insisted on driving it away. The old man was reluctant to part with it, but he had no choice but to do it. Those people hung half a piece of red yarn and a foot of silk on the cow's head and used it as the price of charcoal.

3. "Huanxi Sand" - Wang Guowei

At the end of the day, the clouds are dim and the lone wild goose is flying against the wind. Jianghu Liao Luo'er returns home safely?

Moshang Jinwan looks at Luo Yu, and tries to mix the fermented wine with bare hands in the boudoir. Today's feast is better than usual.

Translation: The sky is gradually getting dark, and the lagging lone wild goose is flying in the wind. There is no suitable resting habitat left. The shooter in the field looked at the wild geese that had been hunted and were falling, while the wife at home was busy cooking. It seems that there is a delicious goose meat in today's dinner.

4. "Under the Autumn Night and the Moon" - Meng Haoran of the Tang Dynasty

The bright moon hangs in the autumn sky, moistened with lustrous dew.

The startled magpie has not yet settled down, and the flying firefly rolls in behind the curtain.

The cold shadows of the locust tree in the courtyard are sparse, and the neighboring pestle sounds urgently at night.

How long is the good time! Standing looking at the sky.

Translation: A bright moon hangs high in the sky, and the dewdrops reflected by the moonlight are crystal clear, as if they were wet by dew. Under such beautiful moonlight, the cold magpie doesn't know where to rest. And fireflies don't dare to compete with the moonlight for a little bit of light. He flew into the room as the curtain rolled up. The only branches of the locust tree in the yard cast their shadows in the moonlight, looking sparse and desolate. At this time, the sound of pestle coming from the neighbor seemed so clear and urgent in the silent autumn night. Far apart. How to make an appointment for a date to get together? I can only look at the same distant moon melancholy, unable to do anything, just standing there stupidly.

5. "Compassion for the Farmers" - Li Shen of the Tang Dynasty

Plant one grain of millet in spring and harvest ten thousand grains in autumn.

There is no idle land in the world, and farmers are still starving to death.

Translation: Sow a seed in spring, and you can harvest a lot of food in autumn. There is no field in the world that is not cultivated, but there are still farmers who starve to death.

Extended information:

"Compassion for the Farmers" is a collection of poems by Li Shen, a poet in the Tang Dynasty. This group of poems profoundly reflects the living conditions of farmers in China's feudal era. The poem concretely and vividly depicts scenes of fruitful harvests everywhere, highlighting the practical problem of farmers who work hard to obtain a bumper harvest but are left empty-handed and starve to death. The poems select typical life details and well-known facts to focus on depicting the social contradictions at that time.

The style is simple and thick, the language is popular and simple, the syllables are harmonious and bright, and the combination of virtual and real and contrasting techniques are used to enhance the expressive power of the poem. This poem is not only widely circulated among the people, but also has a certain influence in literary history. In modern times, it has been selected as an ideological teaching material in primary school textbooks. 2. Aphorisms, poems and short stories about compassion

"Linjiang Immortal" by Xuchang Tu As I left the Pavilion to the west, I felt resentment floating in the air.

Looking back, the smoke and willows are getting thicker, the light clouds are far away, and the sky is red at dusk in the cold sun. Where to draw the boat tonight? The tide is flat and the moon is hazy.

The wine wakes people up and Jingna is filled with sadness! The lamp is broken, the pillow is dreaming, the waves are light and the wind is just before dawn.

(A classic about the pain of parting) Moonlight Night on the River by Zhang Ruoxu The spring river tide reaches the sea level, and the bright moon on the sea rises with the tide.

The twinkling waves follow the waves for thousands of miles, but there is no moon on the spring river! The river flows around the meadow, and the moonlight shines on the flowers and forests like snowflakes. Frost is flying in the sky, and the white sand on the terrace is invisible. The river and the sky are all colorless, and there is a lone moon in the bright sky.

Who by the river saw the moon for the first time? When did Jiang Yue shine on people? Life is endless from generation to generation, and the river and the moon look alike every year. I don’t know who the river moon is waiting for, but I see the Yangtze River sending water.

The white clouds are slowly disappearing, and the green maple pond is full of sorrow. Whose family is cheating tonight? Where do I miss Mingyue Tower? The poor moon wanders upstairs, it should be shining away from the makeup mirror.

The Yuhu curtain cannot be rolled away, and the finger on the anvil of pounding clothes still comes back. At this time, we look at each other but don't hear each other, I hope the moonlight will shine on you.

The wild geese fly long and fast, and the fish and dragon dive and leap into the water. Last night, I dreamed of falling flowers in the pond, but it was a pity that I didn’t return home in the middle of spring.

The spring water in the river is gone, and the moon has fallen in the river pool and is setting in the west again. The slanting moon hides the sea fog, and the Jieshi Xiaoxiang has infinite roads.

I don’t know how many people will return by the moon. The falling moon shakes the trees all over the river with love. (Let’s talk about this song: this song overwhelms the whole Tang Dynasty) The Sapphire Case by He Zhu Lingbo could not reach Hengtang Road, but he watched Fangchen go.

Who will spend the golden years? The flower pavilion on the moon bridge, with its small windows and red doors, is the only place where spring is known. The flying clouds are rising slowly into the twilight sky, and the colorful pen is filled with new heart-breaking sentences.

How much leisure and sorrow are there? Yichuan tobacco, the city is full of wind and rain, and plums are yellow and rainy. (Describing late spring~~) Yu Linling Liu Yong The chilling cicadas are miserable.

It's late at night in Changting, and the showers have begun to subside. There is no trace of drinking in the capital tent, and the orchid boat urges you to stay in the place of nostalgia.

Holding hands and looking into tearful eyes, I was speechless and choked. Thoughts go by, thousands of miles of mist, the dusk is heavy and the sky is vast.

Sentiment has hurt parting since ancient times. Even more embarrassing and neglected Qingqiu Festival.

Where will I wake up tonight, on the bank of willows and the waning moon in the morning breeze. This passing year should be a time of good times and good scenery.

Even if there are thousands of styles, who can I tell them about them? (Classic work!!) Watching the Sea Tide Liu Yong Southeast is the most beautiful place in the city. Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times.

Smoked willow painted bridges, windy green curtains, and hundreds of thousands of homes. Clouds and trees surround the dike and sand.

The raging waves roll up the frost and snow, and the sky is boundless. The city is lined with pearls, and the households are full of luxury goods.

Overlapping lakes [mountains] Qingjia. There are osmanthus seeds in three autumns and lotus flowers in ten miles.

The Qiang pipe clears the sky, the watermelon song fills the night, and the old lotus baby plays and fishes. Thousands of horses and tall teeth.

Get drunk, listen to flutes and drums, chant and enjoy the haze. There will be good scenery in the future, go back to Fengchi to praise it.

(This is the most famous landscape poem among Liu Yong’s works) Yangzhou Man Jiang Kui The famous capital of Huaizuo, the best place in Zhuxi, Xie An Shao was stationed in the first journey. Ten miles after the spring breeze, all the shepherds and wheat are green.

Since Hu Ma peeked into the river, the trees in the pond were abandoned, and they were still tired of talking about soldiers. It's getting dusk, the clear corners are blowing cold, and we are all in an empty city.

Du Lang’s handsome reward is now so serious that I am shocked. Despite Cardamom's lyrical skills, Dream of a Brothel is good, but it is difficult to describe it with deep emotion.

Twenty-four bridges are still there, and the waves are still in the cold moon. Reading the red medicine beside the bridge, I know who I was born for every year.

(I like poems with cold fragrance and rhyme, and this is the best) Linjiangxian Hanliu Nalan Rongruo Where are the flying catkins and flying flowers? Devastated by layers of ice and snow. A sparse tree is cold at dawn.

The bright moon is good for loving him, and being haggard is also relevant. Finally, after the silken threads have shaken, they turn to teach people to recall the Spring Mountains.

The dream of wearing a skirt is an intermittent response to difficulties. How much hate the west wind blows away the eyebrows.

Langtaosha Nalan Rongruo The purple jade is brushed away by the cold ashes, and all the words of the heart are gone. The sparse curtains are still hanging down from the next year, and half of the sunset is red, and the swallows are coming.

Looking back at Biyunxi, how much hope I have. Outside the long and short pavilions, there are long and short embankments, a hundred-foot gossamer and a thousand-mile dream, infinitely desolate and fascinating.

Happy meeting Li Yu went up to the west building without words. The moon is like a hook, the lonely sycamore tree, the deep courtyard is locked in the autumn. The cutting is constant, the reasoning is still messy, it is the sorrow of separation, and the other is the ordinary feeling in the heart. Li Yu, the poppy beauty When did the spring flowers and autumn moon come, how much do we know about the past? There was an east wind in the small building last night, and the motherland could not bear to look back in the moonlight. The carved railings and jade bricks should still be there, but the beauty has changed. I ask you how much sorrow you can have, just like a river of spring water flowing eastward Liu. (We all know the artistic conception of the late master...) Su Muzhe (nostalgic) Fan Zhongyan The sky is blue and the leaves are yellow. The autumn colors are rolling in waves, and the waves are green and cold.

The mountains reflect the setting sun and catch the water. The grass is ruthless, even outside the setting sun.

The soul of the dark country, the thoughts of the journey. Unless every night, good dreams leave people to sleep.

High up in the Mingyue Tower, I lean alone. The wine enters the sad heart and turns into tears of lovesickness.

Royal Street Walk (Autumn Nostalgia) Fan Zhongyan The fallen leaves are fragrant. The night is silent and cold.

The pearl curtain rolls up in the empty jade building, and the sky is pale and the Milky Way hangs down to the ground. Tonight every year, the moon is as beautiful as a flower, and it is as long as a person is thousands of miles long.

I am so sad that I can’t help but feel drunk. Before the wine arrives, tears first come.

The remaining lamp is turned off and the pillow is lit. I know how it feels to sleep alone.

They all come to this matter, with their eyebrows in their hearts, and there is no way to avoid it. Qingmen Yin. Spring Thoughts by Zhang Xian It's warm at first but then slightly cold, and the wind and rain will come later.

Tingxuan is lonely near the Qingming Festival, drinking wine among the remaining flowers, and suffering from last year’s illness again.

The wind blows in the corner above the building, and the door is quiet at night.

Nakan was even more illuminated by the bright moon, and the shadow of the swing was sent across the partition wall. Tian Xianzi Zhang Xian's water melody is played several times while holding the wine and listening to it. When I wake up after being drunk in the afternoon, I am still worried.

When will I send Chunchun back? Facing the evening mirror, it hurts the scenery, and the past events are empty and empty in the later period. It's dark on the sand and on the pond, and the clouds break through and the moon comes to make shadows on the flowers.

There are heavy curtains and densely folded lights, the wind is unstable, people are still at first, and the path will be filled with red sunset tomorrow. Eight Sounds by Liu Yong, Ganzhou To the Xiaoxiao dusk rain sprinkles on the river sky, washing the autumn away.

The frost is getting colder, the wind is getting colder, the Guanhe River is in the cold, and the remaining light is shining on the building. The redness and greenness of this place have declined, and the beauty of the place has ceased.

Only the water of the Yangtze River flows eastward without words. I can't bear to climb high and look far away, looking at the distance of my hometown. I can't bear to think about it.

I sigh at the traces of the past years. What troubles have I left behind? I want to see a beautiful woman makeup the building and look up. I miss it a few times and I know I'm returning to the boat. Trying to understand me, I am leaning against the wall, feeling depressed and worried.

(Not much to say.

Another master who is the best at every turn.

)

Shen Yuan Lu Youcheng The setting sun paints the corner with sadness, and the sinking garden is no longer a restored pool platform. The spring waves under the sad bridge were green, and it was once the shadow of a startled dragon came.

Huanxi Sha Li Jing The fragrant lotus leaves are gone, and the green waves are rising in the west wind. Still haggard and haggard with the time, unbearable to look at.

The drizzle dreamed back to Jisai far away, and the cold wind blew through the small building. How many teardrops are full of infinite hatred, leaning against the lantern stem.

(The late master’s father.

) Walking on the sand and watching the fog in the Qin Dynasty, the tower is lost, the moon is lost in the river, and the Taoyuan is nowhere to be seen. It is worthy of the solitary pavilion closed in the spring cold, the sound of cuckoos The setting sun is twilight. The post sent plum blossoms, and the fish passed on the ruler. There are countless hates built into it. Fortunately, the Chenjiang River has circled Chenshan Mountain. Who did it flow down to Xiaoxiang? Go to the top of the building to have a lingering dream at five o'clock. The sorrow of separation at the bottom of the flower is not as ruthless as the sentimental pain. One inch is still thousands of strands. When the ends of the earth are limited, there is only endless lovesickness (although I don't like Yan Shu!) Su Muzhe of the Song Dynasty and Zhou Dynasty Bang Yan burns agarwood to relieve the heat. 3. What are the most poignant and compassionate poems?

The most poignant poems are those written by Li Qingzhao.

For example:

Huanxisha

Maybe the cup is dark and thick with amber,

The intoxication melts before it becomes intoxicated,

The wind blows in the evening.

The incense of Ruinao dispels souls and dreams,

The golden bun is used to ward off the cold, and the pine hair is tied up,

When I wake up, the sky is red with candles.

Expressing one’s true feelings

It’s too late to remove makeup at night,

The calyx of a plum blossom is inserted into a broken branch.

Awakening from alcohol breaks the spring sleep,

Dreams can never be returned.

People are quiet,

The moon is shining,

The green curtain is hanging down.

More the remaining stamens,

More the remaining fragrance,

Get more time.

Qingpingle

In the snow every year,

I often plant plum blossoms to get drunk,

There is no good intention in removing all the plum blossoms,

Win clothes full of tears!

This year at the end of the world,

The temples are blooming with beauty.

Depending on the wind coming in the evening,

Therefore, plum blossoms should be difficult to see.

Reminiscing about the flute on the Phoenix stage

The fragrant and cold golden cat,

was turned over by the red waves,

got up and combed my hair lazily.

Ren Bao's dowry is covered with dust,

The sun goes up to the curtain hook.

I am afraid of the pain of separation,

There are so many things that I want to talk about but I still have to leave.

Newly thin,

It is not dry wine,

It is not sad autumn.

Rest!

If I go back this time,

I have visited Yangguan thousands of times,

it will be difficult to stay.

People who read Wuling are far away,

The smoke locks the Qin Tower.

Only the running water in front of the building,

You should miss me and stare at me all day long.

Where you stare,

From now on, there is a new sorrow,

a new sorrow.

The sound is slow

Searching and searching,

Desolate and deserted,

Miserable and miserable.

It is most difficult to catch your breath when it is warm and then cold.

Three cups and two cups of light wine,

How can I defeat him, and the wind comes late?

The wild geese are passing by,

I am sad,

But we are old acquaintances.

The ground is covered with yellow flowers.

haggard and damaged,

Who is worthy of being picked off now?

Guarding the window,

How can one be dark alone?

The sycamore tree is also covered with drizzle,

At dusk, it rains bit by bit.

This time,

How can the word "sorrow" be so great!

Poetry - Hairpin Phoenix

Original text

Part One:

Red hands, yellow wine, the city full of spring palaces Willows on the wall;

The east wind is bad, joy is thin,

I am full of melancholy, and I have been away for a few years,

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Spring is as old as ever, people are empty and thin, and the tears are red and wet;

Peach blossoms fall, Xianchi Pavilion,

Although the mountain alliance is still there, the brocade book It’s hard to trust,

Mo, Mo, Mo.

The second one:

The world is weak and human beings are evil. When the rain comes at dusk, flowers tend to fall;

When the morning wind dries, the tears remain,

When I want to write down my thoughts, I speak alone on the diagonal column,

Difficult, difficult, difficult.

People are different, today is not yesterday, the sick soul is always like a rope on a swing;

The sound of the horn is cold, the night is dark,

Afraid of people asking, swallowing tears to pretend to be happy ,

Hide, hide, hide. 4. Poems about mercy

The Charcoal Seller

Author: Bai Juyi

The Charcoal Seller cut down firewood to burn charcoal in the southern mountains.