Looking back on the Han dance in those days, I was afraid of flying away and wrinkling my fairy skirt. Love that blue, still fading fragrance, still sighing and snowing. The cabbage is as clear as lead water, and the west wind blows for another night. I like to watch quietly, practice Qiu Guang with horses and pour the moon on the lake. Translation of chanting, chanting and annotation
The green round lotus is naturally clean and graceful, swaying towards shallow sandbars and far water. There is also a lotus leaf that has just surfaced, like a beauty's pendant, holding a pure heart, how much heat can it cover? Two umbrella-shaped lotus leaves, like a pair of mandarin ducks, fell in love at first sight and didn't talk to Huansha Beauty. I am afraid that the flower wind will suddenly blow away the sad songs and smash the lotus bushes like a thousand stacks of Cui Yun.
Looking back on dancing in the Han Palace, Emperor Tiandi was afraid that the wind would blow away Zhao, and his sleeves fluttered, causing people to wrinkle their skirts. Since then, this wrinkled "fairy women's dress" has been circulated in later generations. I am reluctant to part with the blue shirt, still stained with the fragrance of withered lotus, sighing and snowing. There are crystal clear dewdrops in the heart of the green plate, like the tears of the golden copper fairy, which were blown down by the west wind overnight. I like to watch the bright moon shed clear flying light, like a white horse training, pouring into half a lake.
Appreciate that this is an ode to things. I wrote a lotus leaf expression on the first page. I lamented that I was as white as snow, and I was disappointed, but fortunately I was like a lotus leaf and could enjoy the flowing moonlight. At the end of the three sentences, write the overall picture of the lotus pond, blending with each other, ethereal and bright.
The word "creative background" was written in the Southern Song Dynasty, and the author lived in seclusion in Zhejiang. Zhang Yan (1248- 1320), whose real name was Yutian, was Le Xiaowen in his later years. My ancestral home is Fengxiang, Shaanxi. The sixth ancestor, Zhang Jun, was a famous general in Song Dynasty. My father, Zhang Shu, is an important member of the "West Lake Singing Society", who has a wonderful understanding of melody and is closely related to famous poets. Zhang Yan lived in Lin 'an for the first half of his life, but after the death of the Song Dynasty, his family declined and he drifted in his later years. He is the author of Baiyun Ci in the Mountains, with 302 words. Another important contribution of Zhang Yan is that he founded the earliest monograph of Ci in China, Etymology, and summarized the main artistic thoughts and achievements of the elegant Ci school in the late Song Dynasty, in which "emptiness" and "elegance" were the main propositions. Zhang Yan
The mountain is cold and blue now, and the autumn water has flowed for a day. It can blow off the golden leaves in autumn and bloom beautiful flowers in spring. The fragrant lotus leaves are withered, and the west wind worries about the green waves. Qiu Guang, Wan Li, on credit, people cherish time for nine days. I still remember first frost and Qiu Guang singing the rain in the small night and crossing the boat on the long bridge. Li in the sad autumn scenery, a wanderer all the year round, lives alone on the high platform in today's illness. Today, the mountain city is sad not only for autumn, but also for tears. * * * Sleep for Agger to listen to the autumn rain, and the small basket is light and cold. The autumn wind at night secretly blows the river in the frontier and blows through the mulberry garden, which is bleak. The wind is strong in geese, but the clouds are not cold. Qiang tube covered with frost, people do not sleep. The general was white-haired and in tears. The horse crossed the chrysanthemum and crossed the mountain road, leaving the horse to walk freely. Pine and bamboo contain new autumn, and the porch and window are bright and clean. Wanderers in Qiu Jiang are more melancholy when they listen to the flute, and the young woman upstairs leans against the railing at the end of the night. At dawn, the crescent moon flies to the tall trees, and the Milky Way in autumn night is far to the west of several peaks.