Ancient poems about hard work 1. Ancient poems about labor
1, weeding Tang
At noon in summer, the sun is very hot, farmers are still working, and beads are dripping into the soil. Who knows that every grain of Chinese food is hard?
2. Fan Zhongyan, a fisherman on the Northern Song River
People on the river. But I like perch beauty. Look at those poor fishermen, floating up and down in the big waves and rocking in the boats.
3. Zhang Yu, the silkworm wife of the Northern Song Dynasty
I went to town yesterday and came back with tears in my eyes. Those who wear Luo Qi are not silkworm farmers.
4. Bai Juyi watches mowing grass and selling soup
The Tian family has less leisure in the month, and people are twice as busy in May. In the evening, the south wind rises and the wheat turns yellow.
Mother-in-law is rich in food, and children are full of pot pulp. Go with Tian Xiang. Ding Zhuang is in Nangang.
Filled with the heat of the country, the back was scorched by the sun. I don't know about the heat, but I regret the long summer.
There is another poor woman with her son in her arms. Grab the ear with your right hand and hang the basket with your left arm.
Listening to his words of concern is very sad. My family's taxes are gone, so I can take this to satisfy my hunger.
Today, I have no merit, and I have never worked in farming and mulberry. There are three hundred stones in the land, and there is surplus food at the age of eight.
5. Benjamin Tang Nong Li Shen
In spring, as long as you sow a seed, you can harvest a lot of food in autumn. There is no waste of heaven and earth, and the toiling peasants are still starving to death.
2. Poems describing the hard work of ancient people
At noon in summer, the sun is very hot, farmers are still working, and beads are dripping into the soil. Who knows that every grain of Chinese food is hard?
There is also a famous song, selling charcoal Weng.
Bai Juyi
An old man selling charcoal cuts wood and burns charcoal in the mountains in the south all year round.
His face was covered with dust, which was the color of smoke burning, his temples were gray, and his ten fingers were burnt black.
What is the money for selling charcoal for? Buy clothes, buy food in your mouth.
Pity that he is wearing thin clothes, but he is worried that charcoal can't be sold, hoping it will be colder.
At night, it snowed a foot thick outside the city. Early in the morning, the old man drove a charcoal wheel to the market.
Cows are tired and people are hungry, but the sun has risen very high. They are resting in the mud outside the south gate of the market.
Who is that proud man riding on two horses? It was the eunuchs in the palace and eunuchs who did it.
The eunuch, with documents in his hand and the emperor's orders in his mouth, shouted at the petrified palace.
A load of charcoal, more than 1000 kilograms, eunuch attendants to drive away, the old man is helpless, but there is no way.
Half a horse's red yarn is a silk, which is filled with charcoal to the cow's head.
3. Ancient poems about diligence
Yuefu "Long Songs"
The trees in the garden are lush, and the crystal dew rises in the sun.
Spring fills the earth with hope, and everything presents a scene of prosperity.
I am always afraid that when the cold autumn comes, the trees in Ye Er will turn yellow and the grass will wither.
The river runs to the sea, and when will it return to the west?
A lazy youth, a lousy age.
Wen Jia's Song of Tomorrow
The day after tomorrow, how many tomorrows!
Tomorrow will never come.
If the world is tired tomorrow, it will go to Qiu Lai as a veteran in spring.
What can you do tomorrow in a hundred years' time, watching the dusk flowing east and the sunset setting?
Please listen to my song tomorrow.
Man Jianghong [Yue Fei]
Angry hair rushing to the crown, leaning on the fence and drizzling. Looking up, screaming in the sky, strong and fierce. Thirty fame, dust and earth, eight thousand miles of clouds and the moon. Don't be idle, grow old together and be unhappy.
Jingkang shame, still not snow; When will the courtiers regret it? Driving a long car, Helan Mountain is neglected. Hungry, hungry, eating pork, laughing, thirsty for Hun blood. Leave it at the beginning and clean up the old mountains and rivers. Chaotianque
Du Qiuniang, clothes by the water.
I advise you not to cherish noble Yi, and I advise you to cherish youth.
When the flowers should be folded, we should fold them quickly, and don't wait for the flowers to wither before folding one.
Persuade Yan Zhenqing.
Every day when the cock crows, it is the best time for boys to read.
Teenagers only know how to play, but don't know how to study hard. When they are old, they regret why they didn't know how to study hard when they were young.
4. Ancient poems about hard struggle
Ancient poems about hard work:
Song Dynasty poet Zhang De
Wang Baoxue's two elegies.
Looking at the virtues of the three mountains is heavy, and doing things is loyal.
Shan Xin is aboveboard and heroic.
Interest calls for kindness, and things are wrong.
Looking back on fame and fortune, lonely tears come from the east wind.
Song Dynasty poet Zhang Jiucheng's
One hundred quatrains in The Analects of Confucius
Being not diligent, regardless of the valley, he resolutely planted a stick and squatted down.
Once upon a time, it was always empty-shouldered, which was unheard of in Dayuan.
Song Dynasty poet Zhang Jingmou's
Send a message to Ye Gong of Hunan Xianqing Temple.
It is said that Dong Xiao has been invited in recent years, and the Jianghu has been working hard for a long time.
Immortals who are idle will get it, and when they get old, they will retreat higher.
Borrowing a house, but knowing how to plant new bamboo, I really want to see the old peach.
The floating beam layman is dusty, and his beard and hair are now two hairs.
York in the Southern Song Dynasty
Three Poems for Wang Liaoyuan
Bright blue lanterns hold the stove, make bells and read side books at midnight.
Wind and smoke are sad, and frost and snow invade the temples.
Don't say what happened, the official can sigh.
Hard work is like the reward of this day, so I plow the canal myself.
Tao Yuanming's
lines
Once the youth is gone, it will never come again, and you will never see the arrival of the next day.
It's time for people to encourage themselves when they reach middle age. Time goes by and waits for no one.
Zhang Jingmou, the author of Letter to Ye Gong of Hunan Xianqing Temple, is from Changzhou (now Jiangsu). Yingzong Zhiping was a scholar for four years. At the end of Yuanfeng, God lived in Fuliang County, Raozhou. The last two were Fu, the magistrate of Wudian County. After three dynasties, he became a ancestral temple doctor. He died in his seventies. There is a collection of Zhang Zu genealogy, which has been lost. See Volume III of China Wu for details.
The author of Three Poems to Wang Liaoyuan is York (A.D. 1 183 ~ 1243). The word su, the number is also lent, and the number is tired at night. Xiangzhou Tangyin (now Henan) was born. Living in Jiaxing (now Zhejiang). Yue Fei's grandson, his son.
5. What poems describe the hard work of ancient working people?
Filled with the heat of the country, the back was scorched by the sun.
"Looking at Mai Niang" Tang Bai Juyi's feet were smoked by the hot air on the ground, and his back was roasted by the scorching sun. Who would have thought that our bowl of rice and grain are full of the blood and sweat of farmers? "Two Poems for Peasants" Who in the Tang Dynasty thought that the rice in our bowl was full of peasants' blood and sweat? I don't know about the heat, but I regret the long summer.
Don Bai Juyi was so tired that he didn't seem to know that the weather was hot, but he just cherished the eternal summer. In spring, as long as you sow a seed, you can harvest a lot of food in autumn.
"Two Poems on Kindness to Farmers" As long as Shen Li Chuntian sowed a seed in the Tang Dynasty, he could harvest a lot of grain in autumn. There is no waste of heaven and earth, and the toiling peasants are still starving to death.
"Two Poems of Compassion for Peasants" In Li Shen in the Tang Dynasty, not a single field was abandoned, and the working peasants starved to death. At noon in summer, the sun is very hot, farmers are still working, and beads are dripping into the soil.
"Two Poems of Compassion for Peasants" At noon in midsummer, in Li Shen of the Tang Dynasty, the peasants were still working, and their sweat was dripping in the soil. Who would have thought that our bowl of rice and grain are full of the blood and sweat of farmers? "Two Poems for Peasants" Who in the Tang Dynasty thought that the rice in our bowl was full of peasants' blood and sweat? .
6. Ancient poems about hard struggle
"Watching Wheat" Tang Bai Juyi's family is less idle, and people are twice as busy in May.
In the evening, the south wind rises and the wheat turns yellow. Mother-in-law is rich in food, and children are full of pot pulp.
Go with Tian Xiang. Ding Zhuang is in Nangang. Filled with the heat of the country, the back was scorched by the sun.
I don't know about the heat, but I regret the long summer. There is another poor woman with her son in her arms.
Grab the ear with your right hand and hang the basket with your left arm. Listening to his words of concern is very sad.
My family's taxes are gone, so I can take this to satisfy my hunger. Today, I have no merit, and I have never worked in farming and mulberry.
There are three hundred stones in the land, and there is surplus food at the age of eight. "Wo He" In Li Shen in the Tang Dynasty, at noon, sweat dripped down the soil.
Who knows that every grain of Chinese food is hard? Fan Zhongyan, a fisherman on the river, came and went on the river in the Northern Song Dynasty.
But I like perch beauty. Look at those poor fishermen, floating up and down in the big waves and rocking in the boats.
Zhang Yu, the "Silkworm Girl" of the Northern Song Dynasty, entered the city yesterday and returned with tears. All over Luo Qi are not silkworm farmers.
"Repaying gratitude for agriculture" Tang planted a millet in spring and harvested 10,000 seeds in autumn. There is no waste of heaven and earth, and the toiling peasants are still starving to death.
Poems about hard work (2) One of the poems in "Returning to the Garden" is that Tao Yuanming has no rhyme and loves autumn mountains. I sneaked into the official career network and have been away from the game for more than ten years.
Birds in cages are often attached to the forests of the past, and fish in ponds yearn for the abyss of the past. I want to open up wasteland in Minamino and keep my humility to the fields.
The house is surrounded by about ten acres of land, thatched cottages. Willow trees cover the eaves, and peach trees cover Li Lieman in front of the hospital.
The neighboring village of the neighboring village is faintly visible, and there is smoke in the village. Several dogs barked in the alley, and the mulberry tree was barked by a rooster.
There is no dust and debris in the yard, and the quiet room is comfortable and leisurely. Trapped in a cage without freedom for a long time, I finally returned to the forest today.
The second part of Returning to the Garden is about Tao Yuanming's lack of personnel in the wild. Cover the door during the day, thinking about wine.
When the market is full of people, they will come and go together. When we meet, we don't talk about worldly affairs, only that the garden is long in Sang Ma.
My field is growing higher and higher, and my cultivated land is expanding day by day. Often worried about sudden frost, crops wither like shrubs.
In the third chapter of Returning to the Garden, Tao Yuanming planted beans at the foot of Nanshan, and the grass was covered with bean seedlings. Get up early in the morning to get rid of weeds, and come back with hoes in the moonlight at night.
The narrow path covered with vegetation, the night dew wet my clothes. It's not a pity to get wet, but I hope it won't be against my will.
In the fourth year of "Returning to the Garden", Tao Yuanming went to the mountains and rivers to explore the wild. Try to take your son and nephew and put them in the wild market.
Wandering among the mountains, unwilling to live in the past. There are remnants in the well, and the mulberry and bamboo rot.
Ask people who get paid, this person is different. The wage earners told me that there was no death.
Abandon the city for a lifetime, really. Life seems illusory, and eventually it will be empty.
Tao Yuanming's regret for Returning to the Garden in the Five Jin Dynasties was returned by himself. The mountain stream is shallow and meets my feet.
I'm drinking my newly cooked wine, and two chickens attract the latest game. When the sun sets, the candle is lit instead.
The height is high and the height is short, and the east is getting white.