When is the Ghost Festival in 2020? Why is the Mid-Autumn Festival on July 15?

my country has a long history, and some folk festivals and customs and taboos have gradually continued to the present. From another perspective, they are also a kind of spiritual sustenance for the ancient people. For example, the "Ghost Festival" that is more often mentioned now is the Mid-Autumn Festival on July 15. So when is the Ghost Festival in 2020?

When is Ghost Festival in 2020?

Ghost Festival is the common name for the "Zhongyuan Festival" on July 15th, also known as the Mid-Autumn Festival. In Buddhism, it is the Ullambana Festival.

The 2020 Ghost Festival falls on September 2 in the Gregorian calendar, the 15th day of the seventh lunar month, the day of Wushen in the Jiashen month of the Gengzi Rat Year, which is a Wednesday.

The Zhongyuan Festival, Shangsi Festival (March 3rd of the lunar calendar), Qingming Festival (April 4-6th of the Gregorian calendar), and Cold Clothes Festival (October 1st of the lunar calendar) are collectively known as China's four major ghost festivals.

The 2020 Shangsi Festival is on March 26, 2020 in the Gregorian calendar, the 2020 Qingming Festival is on April 4, 2020 in the Gregorian calendar, and the 2020 Cold Clothes Festival is on November 15, 2020 in the Gregorian calendar.

Why is the Mid-July Ghost Festival?

It is said that all ghosts will be released from the underworld today. The gates of hell will be wide open, and hundreds of ghosts will roam the night.

As for why ghosts suddenly ran out to the streets, it was not because hell was on strike all year round. It was said that on this day, the King of Hell had a private affair and could not bear to see his mother suffer in the 18th level of hell, so he secretly opened the prison door and let her out. Unexpectedly, the little ghosts in the prison also swarmed out and ran to the human world to harm the people, so there was a saying that "ghosts run around on the 15th day of the seventh month."

Poems about the Ghost Festival

Zhongyuan Works

Li Shangyin of the Tang Dynasty

The crimson festival flutters from the palace, and the Zhongyuan festival pays homage to Shangqing.

Yang Quan had to get rid of the gold bars, and Wen Qiao ended up with an empty jade mirror stand.

I once woke up from my sleep and heard the rain, without realizing that I had lost my way because of the blooming flowers.

Youxu is far away from Yingzhou, so how can the green bird be the matchmaker?

"Gift to Master Zhang on the Ghost Festival"

Tang Ling Guchu

I happened to come to the world during the Zhongyuan Festival, and I would never be idle if I didn’t offer sacrifices to the Yuandu.

Burning incense quietly in the fairy temple, I know that the master is paying homage to Yujing Mountain from afar.

"Zhongyuan Night"

Tang Dynasty Li Ying

On the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival in the water temple in the south of the Yangtze River, Yue'e was seen beside the golden millet fence.

The red candle's shadow is as close as a fairy, and the green ring's light is as bright as many people.

The fragrance of orchid and musk wafts through the colorful palace, and dew surrounds the green clothes and silk.

The Wu Gorge is far away in the night sky over the Xiang River, and I don’t know how to get home.

"A Letter to My Taoist Companion on the Night of the Mid-Autumn Festival"

Tang Lu Guimeng

The wind and dew in the Orange House have cleared away, but Mr. Dongguo's illness has not yet been cured.

A dream alone on a pillow is easily broken by crickets, and a letter from a short eaves is rarely delivered by a swallow.

The broad clouds cover the sun and you should be near, while my reflected shadow among the flowers is still sparse.

I only envy the feathered man whose collar is as smooth as water, and who holds the flag steadily and steps in the empty space.

"Please Say Goodbye to My Fellow Guesthouse on My Return to the South (Written in Zhongyuan Period)"

Tang Dynasty Li Qunyu

Sitting alone in front of a little lamp, the west wind begins to stir the anvil in the imperial city.

Unable to bear the homesickness of Yu Xin, he wrote Tao Qian's "Returning Home" poem.

I feel sad when I leave the study, and I look back at the red court with solemnity.

We should pity our lover who is separated from Yingzhou, flying alone for thousands of miles beyond the deep clouds.

Watching the Moon on the Ghost Festival

Tang Luo Yin

The hazy moon over the South China Sea surges out from the surging clouds.

Shooting down the long whale eyes, and seeing the jade rabbit hair in the distance.

The momentum is so strong that it moves like the Ox and the Bucket, and the road is getting higher and higher than the night.

I gazed at the light and shadows all night long, and raised my head to drink the white wine.

"Palace Poems"

Lady Huarui Xu of the Tang Dynasty

The Ghost Festival in Fayun Temple is also the official birthday.

The whole hall is filled with incense and flowers vying for offering, and the inner garden is laid out first.

"Twelve Interpretations of Haiku Poems on Mountain Life in Early Autumn"

Song Dynasty Yang Wanli

The moonlight is like frost but does not touch the skin; the moonlight is like water but does not wet the clothes.

There is no Zhongyuan Festival in a year, and the weather is just beginning to cool down but not yet cold.

"New Cool Feeling"

Song Dynasty Yang Wanli

When you first take off your raw clothes and put on your old clothes, the new coolness is only suitable for sleeping.

The grasses compete with each other in places where human footprints are sparse, and the lotus leaves are afraid of the autumn wind.

Another year is about to pass, why are my temples not gray?

I have become lazy since the Ghost Festival and have only copied the second poem in my rough notebook.

《Noon of the Chinese New Year》

Song Dynasty Yang Wanli

After the rain the red sun still shines like a cooking fire, and at noon the green shade of the pavilion refuses to move.

Bees will lose their food supply if there are no flowers, and ants will be blocked from returning home if there is water.

Today is the Ghost Festival, and the weather is worse than the first dog days of summer.

It is still hot in the small garden, I burn incense and sit quietly reading Tang poetry.