Seek a pessimistic poem, a poem about sadness

Dream of Red Mansions: Okay song.

Everyone in the world knows that the gods are good, only the fame cannot be forgotten!

Where will the past and the present meet? The barren mound is gone!

Everyone in the world knows that the gods are good, only gold and silver can't forget!

In the end, I only hated to gather much, and when I got to it, my eyes were closed!

Everyone in the world knows that the gods are good, only the wife can't forget!

Jun's birthday said kindness, Jun died and went with others!

Everyone in the world knows that the gods are good, only the children and grandchildren can't forget!

There are many infatuated parents in ancient times, who has seen filial piety to their children and grandchildren?

There seems to be no poetry that has no nostalgia for anything. I have a song by Li Qingzhao here, which is quite pessimistic, and I don't know if it's appropriate or not.

Drunken flower shade. The mist is thick and the clouds are sad for eternity, and the brain is a gold beast. The festive season is chongyang, the jade pillow yarn kitchen, the middle of the night is cool and the beginning is penetrating.

After dusk, there is a dark fragrance on the sleeves. Mo Dao does not kill the soul. The curtain rolls in the west wind, and people are thinner than yellow flowers.

Cao Xueqin, "Dream of Red Mansions".

The paper is full of absurd words, a handful of bitter tears.

Duyun is an idiot, who understands the taste?

It's better to be the one of Farewell My Concubine:

Pull out the mountains and cover the world, and the times are not good.

If you don't die, you can't help it, and you can't help it!

The most touching.

Hardship, bitterness, hatred, frost and sideburns, pouring down the new pavilion turbid wine glass.

It seems that everyone likes Dream of Red Mansions, and I have a song about Li Bai's grievances.

Beauty beaded curtains, deep sitting moth eyebrows.

But the wind is wet with tears, I don't know who is in the mood?

Ah, why am I so miserable, ah, you ask me, I ask who to go.

Ah, how unlucky I am, ah, don't ask me.

Pessimistic enough. Self-created.

A lot. What are you going to do?

There are many sad poems in the Book of Songs, and their sorrows are also different, including the deep pain of losing their favorite forever, the deep mourning of their deceased parents, the longing for their husbands on expeditions, the resentful women who were abandoned, the compassion for the shortness of life, the sorrow of the soldiers lamenting the hardships of the frontier campaign, the pain of recalling the past, and so on.

1, "The Book of Songs, Wang Feng, Huang Li".

He is separated, and he is the seedling. The line is vigorous, and the center is shaky.

Those who know me say that I am worried, and those who do not know me say what I want. Hello sky! Who is this?

He is separated, and he is the spike of grass. The line is vigorous, and the center is drunk.

Those who know me say that I am worried, and those who do not know me say what I want. Hello sky! Who is this?

He is separated, and he is real. The line is vigorous, and the center is like choking.

Those who know me say that I am worried, and those who do not know me say what I want. Hello sky! Who is this?

Brief comment: This poem derives an allusion "Huang Li", which has become a commonly used allusion for later generations when they lament the loss of the country and touch the scene. It also derived an academic word "the sorrow of separation", what does it mean? Great compassion.

For example, the preface of Jiang Kui's "Yangzhou Slow" in later generations: Chunxi Bingshen solstice, given Weiyang. At the beginning of the night snow, the buckwheat is long.

When you enter the city, you look around at the depression, the cold water is blue, the twilight is gradually rising, and the horns are groaning. Yu Huai was sad, feeling the past and the present, because of this song. The old man of Qianyan thought that there was the sorrow of "detachment".

This poem is about the sorrow of a descendant of the Zhou royal family or the remnants of a previous dynasty when they face the ruins of the old capital. When he passed by the ruins of the temple and palace in Hojing, Western Zhou, he saw a crop, so he felt sad and emotional, so that he couldn't bear to leave, and wrote this poem to express the sorrow in his heart.

When the once magnificent royal palace became flat in the blink of an eye, and crops such as millet were planted, all prosperity became a thing of the past, and all dignity completely dissipated. Only the poet hesitated lonely in front of the ruins of the prosperity of the past, asking the sky, why did the world come to this? The sky was silent, only silent, and the poet cried alone, letting the pain of the loss of the country pour out for thousands of miles.