Music is an ancient art that has appeared as early as the primitive society. In Chinese history, many poems have descriptions of music, and we can feel the beauty of music from them. Let's take a look at some of the poems:
Bai Juyi's "Pipa": The strings are plucked three or two times by the rotating shaft, and there is emotion before the tune is formed; the strings muffle the sounds and thoughts, as if they are complaining about their dissatisfaction in life; they lower their eyebrows and continue playing with formalities, saying all the infinite things in their hearts; they are slowly twisted and picked again, and they are initially colorful clothes. The last six units; the big strings are noisy like the pelting rain, and the small strings are like whispers; the noisy strings are mixed with bullets, and the big and small beads are falling on the jade plate; the orioles are whispering at the bottom of the flower, and the spring water is flowing down the beach; the water spring is cold and stringy. Doubts are gone, doubts will never pass, the sound is paused; there is no sadness and hatred, silence is better than sound at this time; the silver bottle is broken, water slurry bursts out, and the cavalry stands out with the sound of swords and guns; at the end of the song, the strings are carefully drawn, and the four strings sound like cracking silk.
Li He's "Li Ping Konghou Yin": Wu Si, Shutong and Zhang Gaoqiu, the empty mountain is condensed with clouds that are not flowing. Jiang E cries about Zhu Su's female sorrow, and Li Ping plays the Chinese harp. Kunshan's broken jade phoenix screams, hibiscus weeps and dew fragrant orchid smiles. Cold light melted in front of the twelve doors, and twenty-three silk threads moved the purple emperor. Where Nuwa refines stones to mend the sky, the stones break the sky and make the autumn rain startle. I dreamed of entering the sacred mountain to teach the goddess, and the old fish danced the thin dragon dance. Wu Zhi sleepless and leans against the osmanthus tree, flying wet and cold rabbits sideways with bare feet.
Yan Jidao's "Bodhisattva Man": When the mourning zither plays the tune of Xiangjiang River, its sound fills the green of Xiangbo. The thin fingers of the thirteen strings convey the deep hatred. When the autumn water is slow during the feast, the jade pillars are tilted and the geese are flying. When the bullet reaches the heartbreak, Chunshan's eyebrows are low.
Li Bai's "Listening to the Sichuan Monk Playing the Qin": The Sichuan monk hugged the green silk and went west to Mount Emei. Wave your hand for me, it's like listening to thousands of pines. The guest's heart is washed by running water, and the remaining sound enters the frost bell. Unexpectedly, it was dusk in the green mountains, and the autumn clouds were dark.
Li Bai's "Hearing the Flute in Luo City on a Spring Night": The sound of someone's jade flute flies darkly, spreading into the spring breeze and filling Luo City. Hearing the broken willows in this nocturne, no one can forget the love of his hometown.
Liu Changqing's "Listening to Playing the Qin": On the seven cold silk threads, listen quietly to the cold wind in the pines. Although the ancient tune is self-loving, many people today don’t play it.
Chang Jian's "The Rise of the Qin on the River": The jade qin is played on the river, and one string clears the heart. The seven strings are clear and cool, and the trees are clear and dark. It can make the moon in the river white and the water in the river deep. I learned that the sycamore branches can symbolize gold.
Du Fu's "Gift to the Flower Queen": The silk pipes in Jincheng are flowing day by day, half into the river wind and half into the clouds; this song should only exist in heaven, and can be heard several times in the world.