Translate this ancient poem, you can, thank you

The name of the little girl of the Su family is Jianjian, with hibiscus gills and willow eyes.

Translation: There is a girl in the Su family with beautiful cheeks like hibiscus flowers, eyes shaped like thin willow leaves, and her name is Jian Jian.

Eleven mirrors learn to make up, and twelve needles can embroider.

Translation: When Jian Jian was eleven years old, she held a mirror and learned to put on makeup for herself, and at the age of twelve, she was able to embroider clothes with needles and threads.

The thirteen lines sit on the matter, and refuse to hide in vain.

Translation: When I was thirteen years old, I didn't want to grow crops and be an ordinary farmer.

The delicate cloud bun is full of patterns, and the wind sleeves are fragrant with roses.

Translation: Jian Jian Linglongyun's hairstyle is very good-looking, and the sleeves flutter when she walks, leaving the fragrance of roses.

The strange posture is incomprehensible, and it turns like light.

Translation: The walking posture is so beautiful that it can't be seconds, and the eyes blink as if there is a light flickering.

In February, the frost killed the peach and plum, and he wanted to marry next year and die this year.

Translation: The heavy frost in February killed the peach blossoms and pear blossoms, and Jian Jian was supposed to get married next year, but died this year.

Mother-in-law, don't cry sadly, this woman is not a husband and wife.

Translation: My husband and mother, please don't be sad and cry, Jian Jian is not a mortal husband and wife.

I am afraid that it is a heavenly immortal, and it is only thirteen years old in the world.

Translation: I'm afraid that the heavenly immortals descended to the earth to travel through the world, and they could only stay in the world until they were thirteen years old.

Most of the good things are not firm, and the colored clouds are easy to scatter and the glass is brittle.

Translation: The good things in this world are not strong and reliable, the colorful clouds in the sky are easy to drift, and the beautiful glass is fragile and easy to break.

This poem expresses the author's irreparable emotion about the fragility of good things and his persuasion of the parents of the dead girl.

Most of Bai Juyi's poems are easy to understand. There are many slang words, and this poem is about the regret of the early death of a girl.

This translator, in a bad mood...

Translation: The night is particularly cold in late autumn, and it feels like the Milky Way is quiet, and the moonlight illuminates the high walls, deep courtyards, and atriums. Because I waited too long, I had a sad dream next to the west window.

Hesitating because she misses her lover), the woman feels remorse for not being able to calm down.

The red candle was only half burned, and the remaining flame was very short, and his back was faintly visible on the silver-encrusted screen. What is the most hurtful thing on the pillow? On the leaves of the plane tree, a little dew drops slide down from the leaves.

Notes: Dreams: Dreams of Sorrow Silver Screen: Silver-inlaid screens Zero: Refers to the slipping of dewdrops.

On the cold night of late autumn, the stars in the sky are vast and quiet, and the light of the moon shines brightly in the deep courtyard. Alone in front of the screen window in the west, the quiet thoughts are like dreams, dense and dense. hesitated several times, and felt sad and resentful in his heart.

Only half of the red candle remained, and the remaining flames were faint. The feeling was about to go out, lying alone behind the screen, the woman on the pillow was sad and lonely. On the leaves of the sycamore tree, there are a little drops of dew.

On the cold night of late autumn, the stars in the sky are vast and quiet, and the light of the moon shines brightly in the deep courtyard. Alone in front of the screen window on the west side, the quiet thoughts are like dreams, dense and dense. hesitated several times, and felt sad and resentful in his heart.

Only half of the red candle remained, and the remaining flames were faint. The feeling was about to go out, lying alone behind the screen, and the woman on the pillow was sad and lonely. On the leaves of the sycamore tree, there are a little drops of dew.

The gold silk tent is warm and the ivory bed is stable, and the woman has some strange fragrance. Laughing softly, the sweat beads are fine, like willows stained with dew, and flowers are moistened. The clouds are tilted, the spring heart is still there, and the delicate appearance can't bear the sleepiness.

Half leaning on the rhino pillow, the beads were entangled, the beads were entangled, and he was shy for fear of being asked.

But I have to say, it's so well written hhh