What are the poems about Bailu? Selected ancient poems about Bailu solar term

What are the poems about Bailu? Selected ancient poems about Bailu solar term

What are some poems about Bailu? The Book of Songs says: Reeds are lush and green, and white dew turns to frost. The so-called beauty is on the other side of the water. Next, let’s take a look at a selection of ancient poems about the White Dew solar term.

What are the poems about Bailu?

Tang Dynasty

"Xianghe Geci·Yujie Yuan" by Li Bai of the Tang Dynasty White dew forms on the jade steps, and wets the silk stockings after a long night.
But I let down the crystal curtain and look at the bright autumn moon.

"Xianghe Geci·Wuqiqu" by Wang Jianzhang of the Tang Dynasty The palace ladies go up to the tower at night, and the king looks at the moon on the western hill.
The palace doors are not locked deep in the night, and the mountains are covered with fallen dew.

"Three Poems on Events in the County" by Yang Shizhen of the Tang Dynasty Why do I see the jade branches when I climb the mountain? White dew and yellow flowers are surrounding the fence.
Only inside the building there is the beautiful mountain scenery, and the remaining water from the rice fields flows into the autumn pond.

"Autumn Dew" by Yong Tao of Tang Dynasty The white dew warms the autumn colors, and the moon is bright in the clear water. The traces are heavy on the pearl foil, and the dots fall on the empty jade plate.
When the bamboo moves, the birds are startled; when the sedge is cold, insects are hidden. The whole garden is filled with eternal night, and is gradually becoming the same as the frost.


"Late Autumn at Nanhu Lake" by Bai Juyi, Tang Dynasty In August, the white dew falls, and the water in the lake begins to age. The autumn wind blows more frequently day and night, and half of the withered lotus leaves fall down.
Hands climb the green maple tree, feet step on the yellow reeds. Sad old face, cold autumn embrace,
I have an elder brother in Huaichu, and a younger brother in Shudao. When will you come from thousands of miles away, with white smoke and waves?


"White Dew" by Du Fu of the Tang Dynasty The white dew gathers sweet seeds, and horse hooves scatter in the early morning. The garden is connected with rocks and trees, and the boat crosses into the river.
Lean on the table and watch the fish having fun, whip the whip and make the birds roost in haste. I gradually realize the beauty of autumn fruits, and I believe there are many paths in the secluded paths.

"White Dew Turns to Frost" by Yan Can of the Tang Dynasty Sadly, autumn is drawing to a close, and the heavy dew has turned to frost. The reeds on the bank turn white first, and the chrysanthemums on the fence turn yellow first.
The bell rings at Yuanyuan Temple, and the geese fly across the Three Rivers. The air is so cold that my jacket is thin, and the chill makes my nights long.
The moonlight fills the whole courtyard, and the lotus fragrance is diffused across the water. I am alone in this humble house, spending all my years in a remote place.

"White Dew Turns to Frost" by Xu Chang of the Tang Dynasty The cold comes early, and the falling dew turns to frost. The clear scenery flies at night and the white light accumulates in the early morning.
The four stars begin to become clear, and the reeds become green again. The color is as white as the beach and the leaves of the Vicia are yellow.
The bright light shines on the silk fan, and the murderous aura covers the general. How can you wear the hemp shoes? They only hurt the gentleman.

"White Dew" by Bao Rong of the Tang Dynasty The cicadas stop chirping for a while, while the abundant dew changes color. The golden wind blows brightly in the morning, and the jade pot adds to the night time.
The fireflies’ flames have become sparse and the cicadas’ mournful energy has diminished a little. Welcoming the festival encourages the swallows to grow, and helping the wind tires the geese’s wings.
Once I feel sad about the silk fan, I think of the clear and shallow memories again. Worship the moon high in the sky and return home, weaving by lamplight.
Tears are like a jade plate, and there is news everywhere.

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