1, "Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night" Tang Dynasty poet Du Fu
Good rain knows the season, when spring comes.
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1, "Delighting in Rain on a Spring Night" Tang Dynasty poet Du Fu
Good rain knows the season, when spring comes.
Sneak into the night with the wind, moisten things silently.
The wild path is dark, and the river is bright.
Look at the red and wet place, the flowers in Jinguancheng are heavy.
Good rain seems to pick the right time, arrival in the spring when everything is born. With the breeze, quietly into the night. Fine and dense, nourishing everything on the earth. Thick dark clouds covered the fields and paths, and only a little fishing fire from a fishing boat by the river emitted a ray of light, which was particularly bright. When the morning comes, the wet soil must be covered with red petals, and the streets and alleys of Jinguancheng must be a colorful scene.
2. "Farewell to Du Fu DuDu to Shu" Tang Dynasty poet
Across the wall of Sanqin, across a layer of fog, across a river.
We said goodbye sadly, and our two officials went in opposite directions.
After all, the world is just a small place.
Why are you wandering at the fork in the road? The child is holding a towel.
Translation:
The majestic Chang 'an guards the land of Sanqin and sees Wujin through the clouds. When I left you, I had infinite affection in my heart, because we were all floating in the sea of officials.
As long as there is your confidant in the world, even if you are far away, you are like a close neighbor. Never break up at a fork in the road, like a child, sad and wet with tears.
3, "Spring Hope" Tang Dynasty poet Du Fu
Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only the mountains and rivers remained; Spring has come, and the sparsely populated Chang' an city is densely forested.
Sad state, can not help but burst into tears, amazing birds, leaving sorrow and hate.
The war lasted for more than half a year, and letters from home were rare, with a hundred thousand gold.
Twisting with melancholy, scratching my head and thinking, the more I scratch my white hair, I can hardly insert a hairpin.
Chang' an fell, the country was broken, and only mountains and rivers were left. Spring came, and the sparsely populated Chang' an City was densely covered with vegetation. Sentimental state affairs, tears can't help splashing, birds are heart-pounding, which only increases sadness but not hatred. The continuous war has continued until now, and there are few letters at home. A letter is worth tens of thousands of gold. Worried, scratching my head, my white hair is getting shorter and shorter, and I can't insert it.