The whole article can be divided into four paragraphs, the first paragraph is about the anxiety of broken houses in front of strong winds; In the second paragraph, I wrote about the helplessness of these children. The third paragraph is about rain at night; In the fourth paragraph, I hope Guangsha will sublimate the suffering.
The first three paragraphs are realistic narratives, telling their own sufferings, and their emotions are implicitly suppressed; The latter paragraph is the sublimation of the ideal, expressing the feelings of worrying about the country and the people directly, with intense emotions and great momentum. The narration in the first three paragraphs laid a solid foundation for the lyricism in the second paragraph, and such a tortuous emotional transformation perfectly reflected the "depressed and frustrated" style of Du Fu's poems.
Extended data:
The Cottage Blown by Autumn Wind is an ancient poem written by Du Fu, a great poet in the Tang Dynasty, during his stay in the Cottage in Chengdu, Sichuan.
In August and autumn, the wind roared and rolled up my triple grass. Hair flew over the river and sprinkled on the periphery of the river. The highest one hangs a long forest tip, and the lower one floats to Shentang 'ao.
The children in Nancun bully me. I can stand being a thief. I openly carried Mao into the bamboo forest, and my lips were so dry that I couldn't breathe. When I came back, I sighed on crutches.
In an instant, the wind will set the color of the clouds and ink, and the autumn will be bleak and dark. This cloth has been as cold as iron for many years, and Joule has been lying down and cracking. There is no dry place in the bedside table, and the feet are numb with rain. 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 makes all the poor people in the world very happy! The wind and rain are calm as a mountain. Oh! When I suddenly see this house in front of me, I will freeze to death alone!
Translation:
In August, it is already late autumn, and the wind is howling. The wind blew away several layers of thatch on my roof. The thatched grass flew across Huanhuaxi and scattered on the other side of the river. The high-flying thatch is wrapped around the high treetops, and the low-flying thatch floats and sinks into ponds and depressions.
A group of children in Nancun bullied me, so they had the heart to be "thieves" to grab things face to face and run into the bamboo forest with thatch in their arms. I'm thirsty and I can't stop drinking. When I came back, I sighed alone on crutches.
After a while, the wind stopped and the dark clouds in the sky were as black as ink. In late autumn, the sky becomes dark and foggy. This cloth has been covered for years, cold and hard, like an iron plate. The child's sleeping posture is not good and the quilt is torn.
When it rains, the roof leaks, and there is no dry place at home. The rain on the roof keeps leaking down like hemp thread. Since the Anshi Rebellion, I haven't slept much, and the nights are long, and the house leaks every night. How can I stay until dawn?
How can we get thousands of spacious and tall houses, generally shelter the poor people in the world and make them smile, while the houses are unmoved in the wind and rain, as stable as Mount Tai? Alas! When will such a towering house appear in front of me? At that time, even if my hut is blown down by the autumn wind, I will willingly freeze to death myself!