What are the classic poems describing chrysanthemums?
Poetry began in the pre-Qin period and flourished in the Tang and Song dynasties, during which many famous poets emerged. Among their widely circulated famous lines, the chrysanthemum is the third of China's top ten famous flowers and one of the Four Gentlemen of Flowers (plum blossom, orchid, bamboo, chrysanthemum). Do you know what poems describe chrysanthemums? Let's follow the editor and take a look below!
"Chrysanthemum"
Ming dynasty · Shen Zhou
When autumn fills the fence roots, the flowers first appear, yet from cold indifference they meet prosperity.
The west wind at the gate and path still holds fragrance; apart from Tao's home, it comes to mine.
"Ode to the Chrysanthemum"
Song dynasty · Yang Wanli
The nature of things has always been each its own; who craves cold thinness and tires of the years?
The white chrysanthemum chooses the land of wind and frost by itself; it is not that spring light favors the chrysanthemum.
"Chrysanthemum"
Ming dynasty · Tang Yin
In the old garden, three paths put forth hidden clusters; overnight, dark frost fell from the blue sky.
How many wanderers at the ends of the earth have not returned, all leaning on the fence to watch the autumn wind.
"Remembering the Chrysanthemum"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
Grieving, gazing into the west wind, nursing gloomy thoughts; when knotweed is red and reeds white, the heart breaks.
In the empty fence and old garden, autumn leaves no trace; the thin moon and clear frost are known only in dreams.
Thought after thought, the heart follows the returning geese far away; sitting alone, I listen foolishly to the evening washing blocks.
Who pities me for being sick over the yellow flowers? comforting words say the Double Ninth Festival will come again.
"Visiting the Chrysanthemum"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
At leisure, taking advantage of frost and clear skies, I try a stroll; do not linger over wine cups and medicine bowls.
Before the frost and under the moon, whose planting is this? Beyond the rail and by the fence, where is autumn?
With waxed clogs I came from afar, full of feeling; cold recitation never ends, interest stretches on and on.
If the yellow flowers understand pity for the poet, do not fail today's cane-head.
"Planting Chrysanthemums"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
Carrying a hoe to the autumn garden, I move them here myself; by the fence and before the courtyard, I deliberately plant them.
Last night, unexpectedly, they survived the rain; this morning I am still glad they bloom bearing frost.
Coldly chanting autumn colors, a thousand poems; drunk, I pour a cup of wine to the cold fragrance.
Spring water irrigates, mud seals them, diligently protecting and cherishing them; well aware the well path is free of dust.
"Facing the Chrysanthemum"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
Moved from another garden, they are prized more than gold; one trace is pale and light, one cluster is deep.
Sitting bareheaded by the sparse fence; in the clear cold fragrance, hugging my knees and chanting.
Counting the clouds, there is no one else so proud of the world as you; it seems only I am your true friend!
Autumn light passes swiftly, do not waste it; facing each other, we should cherish every moment.
"Offering Chrysanthemums"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
Playing the qin and pouring wine, joy makes them fit companions; on the table they gracefully adorn the quiet.
Across the seats, fragrance divides the dew of three paths; throwing down the book, one faces a branch of autumn.
Frost is clear on the paper curtain, bringing new dreams; the garden is cold in the setting sun, recalling old travels.
Proud of the world also because of kindred spirit; spring wind and peach and plum did not linger.
"Ode to the Chrysanthemum"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
The shameless poetry demon invades dusk and dawn; around the fence, leaning on stones, I murmur to myself.
At the tip of the brush, exercising elegance, I write facing the frost; at the corner of my mouth, holding fragrance, I chant to the moon.
On the whole page, self-pity writes plain resentment; who understands a few words telling the autumn heart?
Ever since Magistrate Tao appraised them, their lofty spirit has been spoken of through the ages to today.
"Painting Chrysanthemums"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
After poetry, playing with the brush, unaware of wildness; how could it be that painting requires contention?
Gathering leaves, splashing into a thousand dots of ink; clustering flowers, dyeing out a few traces of frost.
Light and dark, spirit meets the shadow before the wind; lively, autumn is born from the fragrance at the wrist.
Do not think it is the eastern fence idly picked; pasted on the screen, it merely comforts the Double Ninth Festival.
"Asking the Chrysanthemum"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
I want to ask about autumn feelings, but no one knows; murmuring, hands behind my back, I knock at the eastern fence.
With solitary mark and pride toward the world, with whom do you hide? Why do you bloom so late like all the rest?
"Wearing the Chrysanthemum"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
Offered in vases and planted by fences, busy every day; picked, do not mistake them for makeup in the mirror.
The young lord of Chang'an had a passion for flowers; Mr. Pengze was a wine madman.
Short sideburns coldly wet with dew from three paths; the kudzu cloth hat stained with fragrance by the frost of nine autumns.
Lofty sentiments do not enter the eyes of worldly people; clapping hands, let them laugh by the roadside.
"Chrysanthemum Shadow"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
Autumn light layered and layered again; secretly crossing and stealthily shifting among three paths.
Through the window, sparse lamplight traces far and near; the fence sieves the broken moon, locking in exquisite beauty.
Cold fragrance keeps its reflection, the soul should stay; frost prints transmit spirit, yet dreams are empty too.
Treasure the hidden fragrance, do not tread it to pieces; by whom do drunken eyes recognize the hazy blur?
"Chrysanthemum Dream"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
By the fence in autumn drowsiness, one sleep is clear; with clouds and moon, it is not distinct.
Ascending to immortality, I do not admire Zhuangzi's butterfly; remembering old ties, I still seek Tao's oath.
Falling asleep, lingering, following the geese until they vanish; startled awake, again and again vexed by cricket chirps.
When awake, to whom do I tell my hidden resentment? Withered grass and cold mist, boundless feeling!
"Fading Chrysanthemums"
Qing dynasty · Cao Xueqin
Dew congeals and frost grows heavy, gradually leaning askew; the feast and enjoyment have just passed at the time of Light Snow.
The stem still has lingering fragrance, gold faint and detached; the branches have no whole leaves, green scattered and drooping.
"Composed on White Chrysanthemums at the Double Ninth Banquet"
Tang dynasty · Bai Juyi
The whole garden of chrysanthemums is richly golden yellow; among them one lone cluster is colored like frost.
It still resembles today's singing and drinking banquet, a white-haired old man among the young.
"Matching Lord Linghu's Enjoyment of White Chrysanthemums"
Tang dynasty · Liu Yuxi
In every household chrysanthemums are all yellow; only in Liang Garden are they like frost.
Lustrous and quiet, truly like jade trees; clearly facing the jade hall.
Immortals wear snow cloaks; the plain maiden does not dress in red.
Powder-white butterflies find it hard to appear; hemp garments brushed make it more fragrant.
Facing the wind, it sways a feather fan; holding dew, it drips fine jade nectar.
Lofty brilliance covers the silver well; luxuriant branches cover the ivory bed.
Osmanthus clusters are ashamed to bloom together; plum buds envy its earlier fragrance.
Once one person chants the jade-flower poem, from then on it spreads through musical movements.
"Chrysanthemum"
Song dynasty · Ouyang Xiu
Sitting together by the railing as the sun is about to slant; moreover, let golden stamens float in flowing rosy clouds.
If you want to know the medicine that reverses aging and prolongs life, it is that when all herbs are destroyed, it first begins to bloom.
"Mid-Autumn Moon"
Tang dynasty · Su Shi
Evening clouds recede completely, overflowing with clear cold; the Milky Way is silent as the jade disk turns.
This life, this night, will not always be good; next year, where shall we view the bright moon?
"Chrysanthemum"
Tang dynasty · Yuan Zhen
Autumn clusters surround the house like Tao's home; all around the fence edge, the sun gradually slants.
It is not that among flowers I favor the chrysanthemum; when this flower finishes blooming, there are no more flowers.
"Painting Chrysanthemums"
Southern Song dynasty · Zheng Sixiao
When the flower blooms, it does not join the hundred-flower cluster; standing alone by the sparse fence, its charm never ends.
It would rather die holding fragrance on the branch; how has it ever been blown down in the north wind!
"Drunken Flower Shade · Thin Mist and Dense Clouds, Sorrow Through the Long Day"
Song dynasty · Li Qingzhao
Thin mist and dense clouds, sorrow through the long day; auspicious brain incense melts in the golden beast burner.
The fine festival is again the Double Ninth; jade pillow and gauze curtain, at midnight the cold first seeps through.
After dusk, holding wine at the eastern fence; a hidden fragrance fills the sleeves.
Do not say it does not overwhelm the soul; the curtain rolls in the west wind, and the person is thinner than the yellow flowers.
"Matching Guo the Chief Clerk · Part Two"
Tang dynasty · Tao Yuanming
Harmonious rains fall through the three spring months, cool and clear comes the pure autumn season.
The dew congeals, no drifting mist remains; the sky is high, the solemn scene is limpid.
Peaks and ridges rise in soaring crests; gazed at from afar, all are wondrous and unmatched.
Fragrant chrysanthemums bloom, brightening the woods; green pines crown the cliffs in ordered rows.
Cherishing this steadfast and fair form, it stands out as a hero beneath the frost.
Cup in hand, I think of the recluse; for a thousand years I stroke your leave-taking.
My plain intentions find no outlet; listless and low, I pass the fine months.
"Visiting an Old Friend's Farmstead"
Tang dynasty · Tao Yuanming
My old friend has prepared chicken and millet, and invites me to his farmstead.
Green trees close round the village edge; blue mountains slant beyond the outer wall.
Opening the window, we face the field and garden; cup in hand, we talk of mulberry and hemp.
When the Double Ninth Festival comes, I shall return to enjoy the chrysanthemums.