West Lake Poetry

The water is boundless, and the lotus blooms at night.

Watch the lights gradually come out of the temple in the distance, and wait until the moon gets dark to see the lake.

And the poem "Night on the Lake":

I don't drink enough, but it tastes long when I'm half drunk. The basket returned to the lake, and the spring breeze and the cold wind were cold.

Traveling in lonely Shanxi, the night is gray. Yin Qing was mixed with dreams, which made this sentence forgotten.

I still remember Yiyi Lihua Village, smelling a faint fragrance.

And the poem "Hu Huaixi sends her younger sister to tide":

The West Lake has beautiful scenery, and no one is stupid or smart. Look at the income in depth, who can know it all.

Well, I am crazy and straight, and I have already donated it to the world. Dedicated to landscape music and paid to Ning.

Three hundred and sixty halls, looking for poor years. What you get is beautiful, but what you know is hard to spread.

So far, the dream is clear and refreshing. You hold the messenger festival in your hand, and your style shines.

Clean and beautiful, Anken is a gentleman. Hu didn't ride off the screen, but borrowed the monk couch to sleep for the time being.

Read my poem between the walls, cool and wash. There is no way to guide the staff, but it is done with heart.

When you meet an old fisherman, the reed is complacent. Ask if there is, buy fish and talk about money.

Likui jy s poem "West Lake";

Boko account opens peach bank, and the blue radial system is Liu Jin. Birds sing like wine, flowers laugh and keep people.

At dusk in Zhongshan, the balcony is ten miles in spring. Looking back at Xiangwu, Luo Qi Sixth Bridge is new.

Su Shi s poem "Opening the West Lake";

Great men don't expect much, but they will enjoy themselves.

Let the turtles and fish return to green and clean, and be willing to let Xiao Wei stop the slope ahead.

Once a good thing can be inherited, a 100-foot cliff can still be ground.

The stars in the sky are also happy, and the golden waves are bathed in the moonlight.

Zhou's poem West Lake;

Pinghu is as green as the sky at the beginning, and the weeds are ruthless and don't remember the years.

At that time, there was a place for singing and dancing, a beautiful boat in the misty rain of Xiling.

Xia Wei's West Lake Zhi Zhu Ci;

There are bursts of laughter all around, and the lake is the clearest today.

Boat people don't decide what to swim, but look at where Yuanyang sleeps.

Pinghu is only covered by sunshine. I don't believe Shaoguang is only here.

Smiling, I picked up the flowers on half my arm, for fear that Lang would be afraid all night.

Don't let Yingying stay for half an hour when you go to the lake bay for the second time.

Look who is the golden horse, sunbathing camels in spring to the lonely mountain.

There is no sunny sand in the spring wave, and the night boat is at home.

Strangely, the spring breeze kept returning, and the head was originally inserted in the plum blossom.

Ouyang Xiu's poem "West Lake";

The fragrance of Han Han disappeared and the painting floated, which reminded Junning of Yangzhou.

Twenty-four bridge months, in exchange for ten hectares of autumn in the West Lake.

Zhao Ziang s poem "West Lake";

Chun yin catkins can't fly, and cattails are greener and fatter.

Afraid of scaring the egrets before, I rode around the lake alone.

Yuan Hongdao's poem "Overview of West Lake";

Longjing Rao Ganquan, flying rich in stone and bone. The wind blows ten miles in Su Qiao, and the sun, the moon and the moon win.

Qianci has no good place, only a good stone yard. The old pavilion in the lonely mountain is full of shade and forest.

A peach blossom a year, a gray hair a year old. Look at the clouds in the south and the moon in the north.

Chu people have no feathers and can swim across.

Fan's poem West Lake;

How many tourists are there by the lake? Half of them are between the misty rain and the broken bridge.

Try your best to watch songs and dances in the spring breeze, while mortals watch the green hills.

Zhang Dai's poem West Lake;

Looking back at the beginning of the West Lake, why did you get this name? I was surprised to meet the west and was deeply impressed by the ancients.

Brilliant mountains and rivers, verve misty rain. I can't help crying, but I have deep feelings.

When you look at the smoke, you can't find it. My hometown is on the road, and this place is called the middle of the lake.

Splash ink on Mi Dian's paintings, and feel the same with Bo Chyi Chin. The autumn waters in the south of China are amazing throughout the ages.

Going ashore, I didn't look at the lake fishing lights for several months. From the water, the dike trees were smoky.

Tell the truth, no makeup is available. Ask who can appreciate it, with a beard.

And the poem "Ten Scenes of West Lake":

One peak is in the upper position, and the two have a good talk. There is the West Lake here, so I refuse to go.

(Two peaks in the cloud)

The lake is as cold as ice, and the moonlight is lighter than snow. Give up three pools, Hangzhou people don't look at the moon.

(Three pools print the moon)

High willows and yin gongs, sparse missing the waning moon. I hesitate to loosen the soil, but I wonder if I stepped on the snow.

(Broken bridge and residual snow)

The night sky falls to the south screen and is as thin as paper. The bell rings on it and crosses the river at night.

(Nanping Night Clock)

Smoke willow curtain peach blossom, ruby sink autumn water. It's too late to be weak, and Shi just went to sleep.

(Xiao Chun, Su Causeway)

There is a slight wrinkle on my cheek, which makes me smile. What makes Lotus drunk? Warm wind is like wine.

(Qu Yuan Feng He)

The deep willow is called oriole, and the clear sound enters the empty green. If you have poetry, you should not go beyond preaching.

(Liu Lang Wenying)

Canta is a drunkard near the shore of the lake. Strange feelings are in the rubble, so there is no need to resort to labor.

(Leifeng Sunset)

Look at the bright moon in autumn, air conditioning into Lin Hao. Listen to the lonely geese, the sound is light and the sky is high.

(Autumn Moon in Pinghu)

I hate releasing ponds and building fish prisons for no reason. When you come to Huagang today, are you willing to be bound?

(Watching fish in Huagang)

Liu Zhaoqing's poem "Looking at the Tide":

Southeast shape wins, Sanwu city, Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times. Smoke willow painting bridge, wind curtain and green curtain, interlaced with 100 thousand people. Towering trees

Sand around the dam. The raging waves roll with frost and snow, and the natural hazards are endless.

The city is full of jewels, and every household in Luo Qi is competing for beauty. There are many beautiful lakes, such as Sanqiu Gui Hu and Shili Lotus. Qiangguan lane

Sunny, singing all night, playing and fishing with lotus dolls. A thousand riders have high teeth. Drunk to listen to the flute and drum, enjoy the haze. The map of the future will be good,

Go back to Fengchi and talk big. After reading this word, the gold owner longed for the scenery of the West Lake, so he thought of crossing the river with a whip. )

In the poem "The Wind Into the Pine":

A spring often costs money to drink, and the lake is drunk every day. Ma Cong's horses are familiar with the road to the West Lake, and Ma Si Ma Si walked past the restaurant quietly. Hong Xiaozhong

Drum, swaying in the shadow of green poplar.

The spring breeze is ten miles beautiful, and the flowers on the head are biased. The original boat carries the spring home, and the rest are paid, full of smoke. Help the disabled tomorrow.

Drunk, come to strangers.

Bai Juyi's poem Yulian Pavilion;

The spring scenery on the lake is picturesque, and the chaotic peaks are scattered around the checkpoint.

The pine row is covered with a thousand layers of green, and the bright moon shines on a little pearl in my heart.

Blue carpet uses green head to pump early wheat, and green Luo is crony to show new pu.

I didn't throw it into Hangzhou, and half of it was this lake.

From the north side of Gushan Temple to the west side of Jiating, the lake is just level with the embankment, with low clouds and waves on the lake.

Several early warblers compete for warm valleys, and their new swallows peck at the soil in spring.

Colorful spring flowers will gradually fascinate people's eyes, and shallow spring grass can barely cover the horseshoe.

I love the beauty on the east bank of the West Lake, and I can't get enough of it, especially the white sand embankment under the green poplar.

Yuan Hongdao's Notes on Zhaoqing Temple;

From Wulin Gate to the west, looking at the pagoda, on the abrupt cliff, you have flown to the lake. At noon, when the tea is finished, that is,

Throw the boat into the lake. The mountain is as beautiful as a moth, the flowers are as bright as cheeks, the wind is as warm as wine, and the ripples are like silk. I can only look at it at once and I have long been intoxicated.

At this time, I can't describe the next sentence, just like when King Dong 'e first met Luo Shen in his dream. I visited the West Lake from here, and it was Ding You in Wanli.

So is February 14. In the evening, I went through Jingsi Temple with Zigong, looking for a minor repair to go to the old monk's room. Via Qiao Liu and Yuefen. Have a rough taste,

Not fully understood.

After reading for a few days, Zhou Tao is looking forward to his brothers.

Zhang Dai's West Lake Fragrant City;

The West Lake Fragrant Market started in the Flower Dynasty and ended in the Dragon Boat Festival. Shandong pilgrims arrive in Putuo on the same day, and Jiahu pilgrims arrive in Tianzhu on the same day.

Then it was different from the people in the lake, so it was called Shi Xiang. However, the city of pilgrims is located in Santianzhu, Yuewangfen, Huxinting and Yuewangfen.

Lu's temple, without exception, is located alone in Zhaoqing Temple. The two corridors of Zhaoqing Temple are antiques of three generations and eight generations.

The exotic foreign bodies in barbarians and Fujian are all collected. In Shixiang, there are stalls in the middle of the temple, in the upper and lower aisles, around the pool and inside and outside the mountain gate.

Without a house, there is a factory, and there is a shed outside the factory, and there are stalls outside the shed, inch by inch. Every rouge hairpin, tooth ruler scissors, even the classic wooden fish,

Children's toys and so on, all of them. At this time, spring is blooming, peaches and willows are brilliant, and peace is advocated. There is no boat, no room and no boss on the shore.

Let it brew. Yuan Shigong said that "mountains are like moths, flowers are like gills, wind is like wine, and ripples are like silk". The West Lake was painted in March.

But this is mixed with pilgrims, and the situation is different. Scholars and women are idle, but they can't compare with the wild women in this village painted by Joe; Fang Lan is so beautiful that it is incomparable.

Smoked coriander; Silk and bamboo orchestras cannot be overwhelmed by their swaying accounts; Ding Yi's strange light surpasses the market of clay figurines and bamboo horses;

The famous paintings in the Song and Yuan Dynasties are not as expensive as the paper painted by the Buddha Lake. If you run, if you chase, if you can't drive, you can't hold it.

Millions of men, women and children gather around the temple every day and can only read the moon four times. Afraid of the east side of the river,

There is no such place. Chongzhen Chen Geng In March, Zhaoqing Temple caught fire. I'm Xinji, hungry at noon, and the people are strong and half hungry. This is the third day.

In Shandong, pilgrims are cut off, and if there is nothing, the city will be abandoned. Summer is coming, and I am in the West Lake, but I have to carry it when I see that the city is starving.

The kind of arm. At that time, the governor of Hangzhou, Liu, was modest in his dream and a native of Bianliang. Many people in the village lived in the West Lake and lived by folk words every day. There is a thin child.

Change the saying of ancient poetry: "If the mountain is not green and the building is not built, the singing and dancing of the West Lake will be suspended.

The warm wind smoked people and sent them from Hangzhou to Bianzhou. "It can be the record of the West Lake.

Tu Long's poem "Whoa whoa whoa";

Zhao Qing is solemn and full of Buddhist pictures, how can there be quacks in the empty valley?

A thousand sons are robbed in the chest, and five senses report loneliness.

Flowing from the edge of the peach blossom, strange stones fly in plumes.

The news spread under the invisible rock, and Ren Erlin screamed at the edge of the cliff.

Zhang Dai's poem "Big Stone Buddha Temple":

Yu Shao likes swimming and exploring famous mountains. Taiyue is both majestic and complicated.

As the sky shines, birds gather. A living Buddha is a spirit, but a golden body is small.

From Nanming Mountain to Nanming Mountain, the stone Buddha comes out of the clouds. Index finger and thumb, seven feet is not enough.

Gemstones were more special, and the stone carving techniques at that time were also very skillful. These rocks are several feet high, which is just an idea.

The amount of half waist is too small. Ask how long the Buddha is, and people can't know.

But when I see people coming and going, I hover like lice and fleas. But I'm not alone. Meditation is ancient.

Ascending into the ground, what is not Buddhism and Taoism. Hue is what Buddha pursues, and details are created by heart.

I think Buddha head is still a straw.

Zhenlong traveled to praise the West Lake Buddha;

Color like gold, face like a full moon. As far as the earth is concerned, I saw a branch.

Huang Jiuwen's poem "Climbing Pagoda in Winter":

When the peak is a tower, it is a net smoke. The sun is cold and the mountains are thin, but first frost is bitter.

Mountains and clouds are leisurely, and newcomers are suitable. I want to talk to my son, and the wind is my language.

Xia, "Baokuo Pagoda" poem:

When guests go to the West Lake, there is still time for a spring outing. The adventure in the depths of Shimen, the quiet danger in Shan Ge.

In the afternoon, the temple bell rang wildly, and the tide went to the boat late. Qing Zun is not very happy, and drunk pen is more poetic.

Qian Sifu s poem Baokuo Pagoda;

The golden brake opens the sky to paint, and the iron eaves ring the bell. The wild clouds in autumn are white, and the river trees in the evening are green.

Chisel the house rock to hide the rain, stick the cliff stone to fall into the star. Overlooking the guests on the lake, singing.

Zhang Daishi's The Long Bell of Agate Temple Rings;

Nu Wa's smelting stone is like smelting copper, casting a welcome bell in Wang Qian.

The servant spring has been cleaned for a long time. It is half stubborn copper and half agate.

Hammer Jin Zhuo Yu Kun Wu Dao, hover the bell button, and go to prison.

108,000 words of Fahua, followed by King Kong Prajna.

Ye Bei Ling Wen is back. He broke the Lotus Prison with a bang.

Ghosts are temporarily separated, so don't worry about missing the chicken.

Day and night 100, the bodhisattva shed tears of compassion.

In front of Rosen Hall, the punishment was pardoned, and the evil soul became fierce and retreated.

When the earth is shaken by a blow, the purple words have a tidal sound.

Especially for all living beings, * * * listen to Pilu's long tongue.

Dare to say that Buddha is ridiculous, I am busy day and night.

Andrew opened the soup, but the snare pliers were gone.

Zhang Mingbi's Poems of Six Immortals;

Mountains and rivers also have their voices, and the West Lake is not easy to be hot with people.

On the 5th, Jingzhao Zhou Wang, the cold noodles were cold and hot.

The original and the mountains and lakes are not long, and the soul is no longer romantic.

I thought at that time, Li Yehou and Xiling had not yet arrived on the boat.

Only Surin Bai Letian really accepted the fog.

Romantic peas are long, and pine wind chrysanthemums reveal plum blossoms and snow.

Yuan Hongdao's poem Xiling Bridge;

Xiqiao Bridge, a rising tide lifts all boats. Pine leaves are as thin as needles and refuse to tie ribbons.

Yingying is like a shirt, swallows are like a hairpin, oil-walled cars are cut into firewood, and green horses come from the west.

Yesterday, the tree was blooming, but today it is strange. I hate blood and cry my soul, and half of it is wind and rain.

Another "Peach Blossom Rain":

Light blue and deep red are more disabled, evil wind urges rain, and scissors are cold.

Peach blossoms are not as good as Hangzhou girls, but rouge is unbearable.

Li inscribed "Xiling Bridge Map";

Taste Meng Min Fan: "Duobao Peak Stone is about to be destroyed, and the trees beside Xiqiao Bridge cannot be opened.

Light smoke and fog fell in the sun and once built a boat. "The tree color of Xiling Bridge is really impressive, and the bridge has its own antique.

If you hear about it recently and rebuild it, you won't have the idea of reviving the past. I am disappointed in this.

Zhang Jingyuan's Le Fen Notes;

Yue Shaobao's grave and shrine face south and used to be in the market. In order to buy a house, Sun opened the road to the lake, which was a wonderful sight. Ciyouyi

The crown was buried. The shape of Shimen huabiao is not huge, elegant and antique.

Zhou Shi s poem "The Tomb of the King";

Where the general buried the bone, the British wind spread. The Northern Expedition was stronger before death, and the Southern Branch was loyal after death.

Fighting is different, tears are the same all the time. The mound is broken and the sun is shining.

Gao Qi's poem "The Tomb of King Yue";

A big tree has no branches to the north wind, and it regrets crying for a thousand years.

The imperial edict of moving troops became three halls, and Lv Shushang said two palaces.

Every time I think of who invited the sword above, the empty temple hides its own bow.

Looking back at Qixia Mountain today, I can't see it in the white fog.

Tang Shunzhi's poem "The Tomb of the King";

The national humiliation is not over, and the danger is also worrying about itself. Jiuyuan people don't return, and thousands of valleys are cold.

You hate hiding your bow early, but you can't borrow your sword. I'm not a strong man, so I'm here to get the crown.

Cai Runan's poem Betty Wong's Tomb;

Who will go to jail and fall into the Great Wall of Wan Li because of three words? Looking north is really full of tears, and Nanke is proud of himself.

The country goes with * * *, and you live alone. The sun is setting, the wind is speeding, and the sound of swords and halberds is still there.

Wang Shizhen's poem "Moon Powder";

Sunset pines and cypresses cover ancient monuments, and English winds whisper in shrines.

Chi Di zhongxing imperial edict came from the air to put away the flag of General Huanglong.

There are people facing the north pole in the three halls, but there are no trees facing south in the six tombs.

Don't talk about Darkmouth, Tibetan bird is not sad.

Xu Wei's poem Moon Powder;

In the dim blue lake at the entrance to the tomb, Than Shwe and Zhu Fei photographed pink.

After the cold food of dragons and snakes in the four seas, the wind and rain in the Six Mausoleums are great in Jiangdong.

Heroes do Kunbu for a few nights, and loyalty and filial piety pass from one family to another.

It finally snows in heartbroken palace, and wheat and rice are separated by spring breeze every year.

Zhang Dai's poem "The Tomb of King Yue":

The misty rain palace in Xiling is haunted by dark green trees.

Hangu Jin people shed tears, Zhaoling Stone Ma Si.

For a long time, lightning gold medals were cold, and storms were red nights.

Yue Hou's clay sculpture and Qi's iron casting have only been scolded by the treacherous man for thousands of years.

Dong Qichang's "Moon Pink Bamboo Team";

Southerners go to the south and northerners go to the north. How can the small court live?

When a dutiful son dies, a loyal minister dies, so should a gentleman.

Epitaph of Zhang Dai's Moon Powder;

Crying like an iron statue is very sad, and this grievance has not been solved. I often listen to the stone horse crying Zhaoling.

You can drink Huanglong on the land, and your ambition will be rewarded. You can still see the mud soldiers wetting the Chiang Temple.

Tao Yin's poem yuquan temple;

When I arrived in Nanqi, I was a little confused. Smallpox falls into the blue sky, and dragons listen to French.

When you clap your hands, the spring water turns into white milk. Clean and more empty, cold and hot.

The stone breaks the winter thunder, and the sky surprises the autumn rain. How in the scorching sun, the water lines are like broken feathers.

Words are loud, and pores are at the bottom of the spring. There are many big fish in the sea, and hundreds of them are fierce.

Suddenly throw the cake bait, covering the whole vibration journey. No wonder thieves get together.

Qing Ji Temple by Chen Xuanhui;

There is a princess Yan in the jade hook, and her surname is still strange.

If the palace can't kill the Buddha, what about the imperial power?

Ziwei produces gold, but the housekeeper is not like a princess.

Who will use the tax in Jiangnan? Every day, water is splashed.

Open up wasteland to build an earthen altar, and the merits are towering over the stone tablet.

There are still palaces destroyed in Qing Ji, and the dough belongs to Yan Fei.

It used to be spread in Jiulisong, but later I heard that the temple was once empty.

Let the birds fly freely and listen to what Li Yue said.

Or the poem titled Fei Laifeng:

I wonder where Feilaifeng didn't fly. No matter how dusty the world is, nothing can fly.

Xian Yan, Yang and Ban can't be assigned.

White jade clusters its protrusions, and violets borrow its color. Only an empty heart cannot be pursued.

I have never seen a Taoist in my life.

Zhang Dai's poem Feilaifeng;

Ishihara has no such reason, and change is self-forming. It is suspected that the chisel is clever and the magic is not affected by the type.

Looking for air or water, it thunders as soon as it opens. You should regret being a suicide and being a child prodigy for no reason.

The meaning of the stone is still moving and strong. Ghost work wears twists and turns, and children play beautifully.

Go deep into Sanying Cave, which is quite open. Flying around or flying around, it's better to be careful.

Hu Zhang s poem Lingyin Temple;

The peaks and peaks open a palm, and the threshold of Zhu extends several times. The boundary between Buddha and land leads to the spring.

The fifth watch went downstairs the next month, and Guo Zhongyan was ten miles away. There are towers and pavilions in the back, and front hills and cross pavilions.

The river sand culvert is quiet, and the cave stone is fresh with moss. Good is called the ape father, and the west rock is deeply connected.

Jia Dao's poem Lingyin Temple;

Before and after the peak, the temple is in the new autumn, and the top window sees Wozhou.

People smell crickets in the forest, and cranes hang macaques in the habitat.

The mountain clock is in the night sky, and the ancient stone building is cold on the moon.

I tried to hang my sail, but I didn't escape. Thank you for being here before.

Zhou Shi s poem Lingyin Temple;

Lingyin Temple, where the green hills open. The stream is constantly flowing, and the mountains are flying stones.

Wang Yuan is covered by trees, and Taishitai is hidden by flowers. There is a mystery in exploring ghosts, and you don't send a sunset reminder.

Dong Qichang's poem titled Ziyang Temple;

When I was near Lingfeng, a dusty city, the path turned deep and heavy.

The ancient cave is still hot and snowy after entering the spring, and it is steep and loose.

In the Qing dynasty, apes quietly called the empty altar and the moon, and cranes worried about listening to the clock of the old country.

Stone pulp has been sweating for years, and you should be ashamed of your feathers when you board the ship.

Gao Qi's poem "Living in Qixia Terrace";

There are birds singing in the white window, and the residual clock crosses the stream. This life is like a dream, alone in an empty mountain.

Leave a Buddha's lamp in the pine rock, and the leaves ring the monk's shoes. Give your heart to silence and lie with the white clouds.

Xia Yuanji's poem "Yun Juan";

Who has gone into the clouds? I have a bird's eye view of the ancient city. Two lakes are clear blue and three are green.

After locking thousands of letters, Zhong Ming was surprised. This is really Coca-Cola, so why go to Peng Ying?

Xu Wei's poem Yunjuan Matsushita Overlooking the South of the City;

The setting sun never breaks, and the first month of the city is a ball. Xia Guang bird falls, the river color is loose and cold.

The city is full of tourists and butchers, and you can often see drunkenness at high altitude. Why not be polite, but hug and fight.

People with eyes at the gate are good at playing word games. )