Cui Lu
Cui Lu
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Cui Lu, a poet of the Tang Dynasty, was a Jinshi. He was once a Sima in Dizhou. He is good at writing essays. Quatrains are the most successful in his poems, and there are 16 poems in his works. His poetry style is clear and beautiful, the picture is bright, and the mood is far-reaching.
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People of the Tang Dynasty
Cui Lu was a Jinshi (a Jinshi in Guangming Dynasty) in Dazhong period, and became the governor of Dizhou. There are four volumes of inorganic collection and sixteen poems in it.
Cui Lu's Poems
Lotus
Cui Lu
Shadow clear wave potential smoke, hate state silent words day arrived.
Fog dawn and Xiangji rice, red when falling into the boat.
There is a pen in the world that should be difficult to draw, but it is better to have no dust after the rain.
What is the limit of heartbroken name can not rely on the wind Jiao timid drunk waist side.
"Cherish the lotus"
Cui Lu
Bantang day before yesterday dyed red, thin Jin Fang, last night wind.
There is no skillful pen to keep samples. Who cares about the incense.
The edge stops, the emerald waves sing and watch, and forbearance makes the good waves accumulate gradually empty.
The old stream is haggard, and the cold smoke remains in the eastern part of Chu.
Spring day
Cui Lu
The 15th is about to come again, and the pear blossom and plum blossom are in mixed bloom.
It's sad that the passers-by can't go back with a smile.
Apricot cheese gradually fragrant neighbor porridge, elm smoke will become old ashes.
Painted bridge spring warm song night, willing to believe sad day nine back.
Two poems of Yueyang in the Spring Festival Gala
Cui Lu
Fireworks scattered over Qingming, foreign time, old guest sentiment.
The clouds dream, the setting sun worries about the color, and the spring waves in Dongting come to us.
As soon as you leave the old mountain, you can see the grass growing on the river.
It's hard to write when you are alone, but when you are in the twilight, you sob and tune the lonely city.
Green smoke is like mother of pearl, willow is like a ring, and sunny is leaning on the south tower to see the mountain alone.
The grass and flowers of Jiangguo are in the twilight of March, and the imperial city is in the dream of dust for a year.
The empty boat still sighs and lingers, and the birds are ashamed and tired.
Why is the uninhibited Zhan's father's company, sleeping in the smoke and singing in the moon.
Crossing Man River
Cui Lu
Green poplar like hair, rain like smoke, immediately dangerous bridge alone call ship.
Mountain pass cloud lost old road, ferry grass recall the year before last.
The body follows the distance, the Taoist is sad, the poem sells when Ming Dynasty does not direct the money.
There's a plan to go back to Chu Tai. Fishing boats sleep on rainy days.
An Mei
Cui Lu
A branch full of affection and resentment slants the fisherman's short fence.
The sleeves are still fragrant for half a day, telling people that it has been raining for a long time.
At first, it was called diaoliang painting, but before it fell, I was worried about the jade flute blowing.
The traveler saw that he didn't want to leave, so he wrote a poem for Yanpu.
[Chongyang rici Jingnan road passes by Wuning post]
Cui Lu
Dogwood cold blowing stream mouth, chrysanthemum inverted around the foot of the yellow.
When I go to Jiashan, my sister-in-law treat me drunk in Chongyang.
The wind is strong and the sky is high, the dew is clear and round, and the blue light shines in autumn.
Do not look at the good season every year, dark hair by hand cream.
[narration]
Cui Lu
There is no joy to replace sorrow.
It's just like when I was young.
[seeing off on a dark day in March]
Cui Lu
Wild drink chaos without patrol, send you and send spring.
When spring comes next year, don't be a stranger.
Three songs of Huaqing Palace
Cui Lu
Grass cover back to Deng Jue Ming Luan, cloud tree deep green palace cold.
The moon comes and goes, and no one leans on the jade fence.
The obstacles cover the golden rooster's opportunity to accumulate disaster, and the green China flies in the West.
As soon as the curtain is closed, no one will return to the court.
The Golden Lock across the gate is silent, and the setting sun and autumn sound on the waterfront of Wei River.
Red leaves down the mountain, cold and silent, wet clouds like dreams, rain like dust.
[cloud dream Pavilion]
Cui Lu
Thin smoke is like a dream, rain is like dust, frost is better than spring.
Living well in the red leaf trees in the west of the pool, who are you with today.
[some wine is lost to doctor Lu in Qianzhou. Thank him with poems]
Cui Lu
When you are drunk, when you wake up, you are ashamed. When you are drunk, you are not free.
I can't bear a pair of poor eyes, can't bear flowers in front.
[Title: new Tung flower in Shanyi]
Cui Lu
After the rain, the smoke is greasy, the fragrance is warm, and the shadow is dark.
Danfeng always nests in a pavilion, and the purple flowers reflect the sorrow of Chu clouds.
I feel pity for Cui gaiqi's painting, but I also feel pity for fangting's coldness like autumn.
In the long spring, wild birds are leisurely.
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Cui Lu