Zhou Mi (1232- 1298), a poet and writer in the Southern Song Dynasty, was also named Cao Chuang, the commander of Surabaya, the old man of Yang Yang, and Hua Buzhu. Originally from Jinan, he now lives in Xing Wu (now Huzhou, Zhejiang). Song Deyou was an order of Yiwu County (now Zhejiang). Into yuan seclusion. Call yourself a four-water diver. He has made great achievements in poetry and prose, and he can also draw poems and rhymes. He especially loves to hide and abandon school books and wrote a lot in his life. There are dozens of miscellaneous works, such as History of Dong Qiye, Old Stories of Wulin, Miscellaneous Notes of Guixin, Miscellaneous Notes of Zhiyatang, etc. His ci is the ancestor of halal, close to Jiangkui ancient, and elegant in style. Also known as the "Second Creation" with Wu Wenying, the collection is called "Frequency Island Fishing Flute Spectrum" and "Caochuang Ci".

His rhythm and style are exquisite, and his style is as famous as Wu Wenying's (Dream Window), also known as "Second Creation". He is a representative writer of the school of metrical ci in the late Song Dynasty. In the early days, there were many melancholy works, such as Ten Scenes of West Lake (Magnolia Slow), with beautiful rhyme and harmonious rhythm. After the middle period, he turned to sadness and expressed homesickness, such as Slowly Worship the Stars and Moon, Tired of Leaves and Shadows, Focus on Xiling, Yujingqiu and Fog. He is good at composing his own music, but he also tends to pursue formal beauty excessively. He wrote a lot. Dong Qiyu Ye can supplement the historical biography, while The Legend of Wulin has a wide range of stories and stories. There are also "Returning to the Heart and Miscellaneous Knowledge" and "Hao Ran Zhai Ya Tan". Zhou Ping Jade Emperor's Biography is included in Qiang Village Series. Caochuang Ci, 2 volumes. There are also 65,438+032 works in the Southern Song Ci Collection, and Zhonghua Book Company has four books and printed copies.

Zhou Mi's Ci Collection of Song Ci

After Xin Qiji and other bold poets died one after another, they became important writers in the late Southern Song Dynasty with their beautiful poems.

Zhou Mi, Cao Chuang, born in Pingzhou, was a famous poet in the late Southern Song Dynasty.

Zhou Mi's ancestral home is Licheng, Jinan. After the difficulty of Jingkang, the family moved to Jiangnan and lived in Huzhou. 1232, a native of Fuchun county, whose father is Zhou Jin.

The Zhou family is a scholar of a generation of bureaucrats. Zhou's ci often sings against celebrities. Zhou Mi's childhood was full of contact and edification. When I was a child, I joined the choir of my parents, teachers and friends. Although he is young, his pen is not weak, and he is gradually "talented." He can write poems, be good at words, learn Chinese willows by calligraphy, and be good at painting Mei Zhulan stone.

Careful use of words and expressions is delicate, fresh and beautiful, and it is pleasing to read. Such as "picking green poison":

"Take the green mandarin duck spectrum, draw a picture of Ge Shuixi in the north and a picture of a cloud in the west. Smoke goes into the fan, Liu Yin floats his oars, and the flower dew invades poetry, so the dust can't fly. In curling, Xia Xia gently pressed the cup. Think clearly? Ling, who will send Yi's heart?

Bright and graceful, crisp and fragrant, with red on the bank of the account. For Cangzhou, the heart gulls are idle, and the songs are clear, and the lotus leaves are sub-topic. After a long time, the cup is stopped, and the cool moon is gradually growing, and the smoke contains Cui Wei. "

Although Zhou Mi was born in the south, he never forgot his hometown. He said, "Let me tell you something. Although I live in Wu, I have never eaten a meal without being moved. How can my child die? " It is often signed with "Be careful about history", "Clean people" and "China doesn't pay attention to people". After he entered the Yuan Dynasty, he abandoned his official position and retired, adding to his homesickness and often expressing his sadness of parting with poems.

-

Tidal bore watching

The tide in Zhejiang is also a big world view. From hope to 18, it is the most prosperous. Haimen in the distance is like a silver line: then gradually, Yucheng Snow Ridge comes the next day. The sound is like thunder, shocking maser, swallowing the sky and covering the ground, and the potential is extremely heroic. The same is true of Yang Chengzhai's poem "Silver in the sea is the country and jade in the river is the waist".

Every year, the Zhejiang Pavilion is silent to teach the water army to study, with hundreds of people on both sides of the strait; After that, those who galloped and split into five formations and rode flags, javelins and knives on the water were all on the ground. Yellow smoke is everywhere, people are invisible, and water is like a mountain. When the smoke subsided, there was no trace, only the "enemy ship" was burned by the fire and died with the waves.

Wu Ershan swims, with hundreds of people wearing tattoos and holding ten sets of colorful flags. They bravely caught up with the whale waves in Wan Ren, and their tails were not wet, so as to show off their abilities.

More than ten miles up and down the river, full of jewels, cars and horses blocked, often eating hundreds of things, but not allowed to watch the curtains.

Travel less for a few years

The curtain disappears and the scroll palace is sealed. Bees and butterflies fly on the shuttle. The same east wind, Yanling welcomes the garden, where there is more spring.

Xiao makeup is fragrant day by day, mostly in Mudanpo. In the depths of the flowers, under the shade of willow trees, there is a sound.

Wen Que Creek

Tianshui is blue. Dye a river in autumn. Dragons in the snow-capped mountains began to sting people. Hurry up, the wind is blowing.

Count the drops of cigarettes. The sky is red and wet. Bai Niao has bright sails and straight shadows. Smell the night flute across the river

Zhetian

Swallows always wear green curtains. Liu Han has not faded. It rains at every house in Luohuamen Lane, and the new fire tower is filled with smoke.

Silent love, hate. The east wind blows an animated swing. When the tung tree was torn apart, the warbler sounded old, but in spring, he was just drunk.

young propagandists

Filaments buy butterflies, warm honey buys bees, and the eaves are silent in spring. Rain calyx tobacco tip, dry pressure, flower rain dyed clothes red and wet. The golden saddle missed the appointment and was as empty as grass. After people from Yuen Long went to Xiaoyu, only Yingying knew about it.

Yu Han still covers the green lake, Yan Liang returns first, and Fang Xin comes last. Shallow east wind, don't follow the wind, light apricots. Dust invades the golden harp. In the spring dream, the green window of the sunset is narrow. Sleeping unintentionally, leaning on the swing.

Worship the stars and slow down the moon

Leaves are cloudy and sunny, flowers are lonely and cold, and Xiangzhou changes in spring. Thin wine is lonely and melancholy like a wanderer. Thinking about people, staring at the curtain, how much I missed, smoke curtain. The grass is far away, and the double beauty insults Huatang.

Remember the voices of Xiao and Danyue Pear Garden. Write red resentment against the east wind. One night when the moon sets, the cuckoo calls the Four Bridges to sing. Swing to the heart, has passed Jiang Nanan. Dream at night and fly away from the flowers. There are thousands of weeping willows, and spring worries are constant.

Red calyx

Deep and quiet footsteps. The clouds are light and the wind is light, and the snow is not completely over. Jianqu cold sand, Maolin tobacco, pitching through the ages At the end of the year, we are drifting away. Who wants me? We are carrying a boat from five lakes together. Pushing the slope, the cliff is dark and old, and it is clear.

Looking back at the end of the world is like a dream, several souls fly to xipu and tears spill over Dongzhou. The mountains and rivers of ancient countries and the bosom of ancient gardens are still the steps that Rainbow can climb. Pity him most, Qin Huan's makeup mirror is so beautiful that he doesn't need to travel at this time. In order to call the crazy song old prison, Fu Pin was in a hurry.

Kenyin

The snow is cold, the mountain clouds are frozen, and the spring red pepper is shallow. The stage is deserted, the makeup pool is deserted, and the bleak market is lightly changed. Sighing flowers and people wither, even at the age of one.

* * * gloomy. Ask the east wind, dream a few times, and get used to knowing that year. A piece of ancient and modern sorrow, but waste green, flat smoke far away. I was speechless, and I burst into tears for the sunset and the decaying grass. The cold flute in the western world is broken, and a few voices of spring resentment are low.

Changting complained slowly.

Remember the depths of thousands of bamboo and lotus. Green pool platform, green pavilion. Drunk with ink, idle with flute and jade. Win the meteor gathering. Know some hymns, Yantai sentences. Scattered Yun Lan sighed instantly, so old.

Stand still. Looking at the trickle, I dreamed of a window full of flowers. Ten years of old things, all disappear, sorrow fu. Yanlou crane is half lost, which is the only language that seagulls can speak. Leaning on the river bridge, a cool cloud blew rain.

Dashengle

Green and tender clouds, red, trees tender and sunny. In the afternoon, it gradually became cloudy, and the shadows moved, and Yan Yu dreamed back, and thousands of peaches blew rain. After returning from the cold reception, I remember that I had stayed in Cuipu. After a long time, you will be proud of the phoenix, and you will listen to the golden thread.

Liu Chun asked who suffered the most. Naihua said nothing to himself. For the residual photos of the painting building, the east wind blows far, far away. I'm afraid I'm out of context, I'm afraid I'm leaving, and I'm even more afraid I'm singing Du Yu in Changting. The weeping willows are dying, but the sleeves are loose and dark with birds.

Tan Fangxun

It's sunny and sunny. Take a boat to Shui Yuan and order wine to Jinting. Sighing that the willow waves are heavy, I am nostalgic, the east wind is filled with lilacs, and the flowers are thin. It's very sad. The dark grass and cold moss by the pool are attacking you.

A night wind suddenly blew outside the bridge. It's the fragrance of snow drifting with the waves, and the shallow smoke is lost. Waste garden dust beam, here comes the swallow. Cui Yun is in a cold place, so let's look back on the past. The most devastating thing to the soul is a love of willows in the sunset.

Gaoyangtai

According to the wild standard, the sky is full of horses and chariots, and the sky is low in Pingsha Wan Li. Cherish the gold medal and respect the velvet hat before the wind. Qin Guan crossed the land by the bian river, and if he wanted to board, he paid new poems. Travel to England, break the drums and clear the shackles, and be a horse.

Wine is drunk in response to beauty, but it is frozen in the ice and flying in the clouds. Who will return to the old days in Jiangnan? The east wind gradually turns green on the west coast, geese return, and people do not return to the south. The most important thing is to fold plum blossoms, but it is difficult to send acacia.

The light rain divides the river, the cold is lost, and the spring is shallow. Yukime is an empty city, where Yan belongs. The dream soul wants to cross the infinite, and it is afraid that the dream will be lightly covered by sorrow. It's fleeting. It's sunny in the east and cold in the west at night.

Looking at the sun grass of the king, I recognized the smoke trees in the clouds and the spring sand outside the gulls. White hair and green hills, poor and relatively pale. Guihong's ebb tide, swimming with a smile, is still the end of the world. Ask the east wind, ask the weeping poplar first, and then ask the plum blossom.

Hua Yao

Zhu Dianbao flying in the sky is more beautiful than spring on earth. Jiangnan Jiangbei, never seen, diffuse pear cloud Xue Mei. Who do you know with noble hearts at the Spring Festival Gala in Hu Aishan? A few flowers bloom, and the jade gate is old.

The golden basin cut off the Qiongzhi, and the world of mortals saw a journey and got a visit to Yaoque. When you are young, you should be complacent and know Chang 'an bee butterfly. Du Lang is old, thinking about the past and flowers will talk. I remember a teenager, a dream of Yangzhou, and a bright moon on the 24 th Bridge.

Yujingqiu

Smoke and water are vast, the forest is still shining, and the night is sad. Blue anvil rhyme, silver bed floating leaves. The clothes are wet and cold, and autumn snow is given when the flowers are cool. Sigh goodbye, a quiet thing, build by laying bricks or stones can be said.

The guests thought that the merchants were still afraid, complaining that the songs were long and the pots were few. The green fan is graceful and sparse, and the fragrance in the red disappears and turns into surplus. The west wind in jade bone, which I hate most, is idle and cool. Yan sent someone to send Dan Yue to the West Building.

Qu Youchun

Outside the east wind of the forbidden garden, the warm sun shines high and the spring thoughts weave. During Yan Renying's tenure, he was born with the spirit of Fang, and the jade was deep red. The desert smells like dust, boiling for ten miles, and the flute is chaotic. See the original boat, enter the western branch, and the spring scenery is half a lake.

Liu Mo, the new smog has condensed. At the bottom of the screen, the palace eyebrows are reflected and the embankment is played. Light cage cold, fear pear cloud dream cold, fragrant worry about power. Song tube enjoy cold food, endure butterfly resentment, good night silence. The lake is full and the waning moon shakes the flowers. How can it be born?

Flower offender

Chu Jiang Mae, goodbye to Hunan and Hubei, silent tears, indifferent spring. Who will send you alone by the east wind? Ling Bo road is cold and endless. Xiangyun went up the stairs and remembered that the fairy palm of the Han Palace was graceful and restrained at the end of next month.

Ice silk writes too much resentment, which is anathema to poets, and it is also a waste to give Fang Lan Youzhi. Who appreciates the national style in Philip Burkart in spring? Xiangjiang river * * *, old cold companion, small window is quiet, heavy smoke and green quilt. A dream, a drop of clear dew, in the shadow of the lamp.