In August and autumn, the wind roared and rolled up my three hairs. Mao Fei crossed the river and sprinkled it on the periphery of the river.
The highest one hangs a long forest tip, and the lowest one floats to Shentang depression. The children in Nancun bullied me,
I couldn't bear to be a thief across the street, but openly carried Mao into the bamboo forest. Dry mouth, unable to breathe,
Come back and sigh with a stick. In an instant, the wind will set the color of the clouds and ink, and the autumn will be bleak and dark.
The cloth has been cold and iron for many years, and the pride is cracked. There is no dry place in the bed room.
The feet of the rain are like hemp. How can you get wet all night since you are in a mess and don't get enough sleep?
There are tens of millions of buildings in Ande, which greatly protect all the smiles of the poor in the world, and the wind and rain are as quiet as mountains.
Alas, suddenly seeing this house in front of me, it is enough for me to freeze to death alone.
In the second year of Gan Yuan, Tang Suzong (759), Du Fu built a thatched cottage next to Huanhuaxi in the western suburbs of Chengdu, and lived a temporary and stable life. But this superficial lightness can't hide his poverty, nor can it dilute his consistent feelings of worrying about the country and the people. Last autumn (76 1), a storm hit his cabin, which woke him up from his romantic seclusion again, made him face the reality and worried him, so he wrote this poem.
The poem itself is very interesting. Why "sing a poem" when the hut is broken by the autumn wind? What influenced the poet's poetry?
This poem begins with a description and is completely realistic. Write about the power of autumn wind first, "howling" is its momentum, and sweeping away the thatch on the house is its "record"; Write your own helpless situation again. In the face of this powerful nature, I had to let it do whatever it wanted, watching my thatch cross the river, hanging high in the treetops and sinking into the pond depression.
Faced with the violence of nature, the poet showed calmness and even had some patience to appreciate it. But in the face of the urchin's "robbery in the wind", he was really angry. It wrote down its own gaffes truthfully, so frankly. He is angry with himself, not with the children. He hates that he is old, helpless, and useless to his country and family. Perhaps I also deeply blame myself for my lack of self-cultivation and generally care about children. In short, after anxiety, he turned to silence and gradually thought hard.
After the strong wind, dark clouds gathered. Needless to say, the autumn rain came uninvited. The poet withdrew his sight, stopped paying attention to the changes of nature, and concentrated on the hut where he lived. After years of poverty and years of drift from place to place, he couldn't even make a quilt, but it was the cold quilt that made the children who slept dishonest push up. The house is full of rain, and there is no dry place, but the autumn rain keeps going regardless of the underground. What a life this is! The night was long and the poet lost sleep. And "self-pity", I don't know how many nights have passed, what's the use of tears?
Suddenly, the poet cheered up from his meditation and shouted, "There are thousands of spacious buildings, and all the poor people in the world are happy." At this time, the ideal overcame the reality, and the will overcame the sigh. Although he lacks a "safe house" now, if such a house that can warm the poor all over the world suddenly appears, he would rather live alone in a hut and freeze to death! What kind of feeling is this? This is a feeling of saving the world by enjoying the sufferings of people's livelihood and observing the changes of the world, just like Three Officials and Three Farewells he wrote in the war.
This is an ancient poem. The continuous rhyming transformation embodies the characteristics of "Song", and the patchwork of single-line loose sentences and even long and short sentences also reflects the dynamics of "line". It is precisely because of the touch of reality and the inner desire that poetry can naturally emerge from the chest without false modification. The whole poem narrates first, then talks about lyricism, which not only describes the poet's poverty and even embarrassment, but also expresses the poet's broad mind, which is sincere and touching.