Du Fu

(712 - 770 / Henan Province / China)

Comments about Du Fu

Enter the verification code :

  • Freshman - 2,101 Points Melikhaya Zagagana (5/11/2014 4:30:00 AM)

    Mr Jeff Mcguire who do you consider as a skillful translater? do you have names or ways to advice translators without making much of noisy complains. Let us complain constructively.

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie Jeff Mcguire (4/12/2013 1:22:00 PM)

    Oh, and why is there a picture of Li Bai on Du Fu's page? Li Po is a great poet and I respect him, but he doesn't need to invade the identities of other poets! If nothing is done, all poet portraits on this site may be replaced by Li Bai in uncharacteristic greed!

  • Rookie Jeff Mcguire (4/12/2013 1:19:00 PM)

    Wong Moli, unfortunately poetry must be translated or it will become lost to a tiny subset of a subset of people who speak the author's Native Tongue. Poetry is always inaccurate in translation; the worst offence that a translator can commit is to translate too accurately. English is not Chinese, so any playful wordings and double meanings will be lost. In order for people like me to Know Tu Fu, I must be introduced to him through a skillful translator who knows the deep secrets of Poetics.

  • Rookie Wong Moli (5/22/2010 10:03:00 PM)

    Too terrible, the English translation is too terrible! Du Fu's poems can be only read in chinese.

  • Rookie Wong Moli (5/22/2010 10:02:00 PM)

    Too terrible, the English translation is too terrible! Du Fu's poems can be only read in chinese.

  • Rookie Wong Moli (5/22/2010 10:01:00 PM)

    Too terrible, the English translation is too terrible! Du Fu's poems can be only read in chinese.

Advent of Spring

The city has fallen: only the hills and rivers remain.
In Spring the streets were green with grass and trees.
Sorrowing over the times, the flowers are weeping.
The birds startled my heart in fear of departing.
The beacon fires were burning for three months,
A letter from home was worth ten thousand pieces of gold.
I scratch the scant hairs on my white head,
And vainly attempt to secure them with a hairpin.

[Hata Bildir]