Du Fu

(712 - 770 / Henan Province / China)

Du Fu Poems

1. To Bi Siyao 4/8/2010
2. Twenty-Two Rhymes To Left-Prime-Minister Wei 4/8/2010
3. Thoughts Of Li Po From The World's End 4/8/2010
4. To The Recluse, Wei Pa 4/8/2010
5. Newlywed's Departure 8/13/2012
6. Dreaming Of Li Po 3/18/2016
7. The Mockingbird 3/18/2016
8. The Firefly 4/11/2016
9. Old Couple's Departure 8/13/2012
10. Spring Night In The Imperial Chancellery 4/8/2010
11. Passing The Night At Headquarters 4/8/2010
12. On Seeing A Pupil Of Kung-Sun Dance The Chien-Ch`i 4/8/2010
13. The Eight Formations 4/8/2010
14. Upon The Military Recovery Of Henan And Hebei 4/8/2010
15. Jiang Village 8/13/2012
16. The Pitiful Young Prince 4/8/2010
17. Thinking Of My Brothers On A Moonlit Night 4/8/2010
18. Thoughts On An Ancient Site:Birthplace Of Wang Qiang 4/8/2010
19. The Temple Of Zhuge Liang 4/8/2010
20. View From A Height 4/8/2010
21. Snow At Changsha 1/8/2015
22. P’eng-Ya Road 4/8/2010
23. Poem For Wei Ba 4/8/2010
24. Song Of Lovely Women 4/8/2010
25. A Homeless Man's Departure 8/13/2012
26. Overnight At The Riverside Tower 1/1/2004
27. On Meeting Li Guinian Again, South Of The River 4/8/2010
28. On A Prospect Of T'Ai-Shan 4/8/2010
29. Rain 1/1/2004
30. From Autumn Thoughts, Poem 1 4/8/2010
31. A Short Poem Written At The Moment When A Rising River Looked Like A Rolling Ocean 4/8/2010
32. Ballad Of The Old Cypress 4/8/2010
33. No Sight 4/8/2010
34. A Song Of Painting: To General Cao Ba 4/8/2010
35. Looking At Mount Tai 8/13/2012
36. Ballad Of The Press-Gang At Shihao Village 4/8/2010
37. Meeting Li Guinian In The South 4/8/2010
38. By The Lake 4/8/2010
39. A Second Farewell To Governor Yen Wu At The Fengji Post Station 4/8/2010
40. Dreaming Of Li Bai (1) 4/8/2010
Best Poem of Du Fu

Lone Wild Goose

Alone, the wild goose refuses food and drink,
his calls searching for the flock.

Who feels compassion for that single shadow
vanishing in a thousand distant clouds?

You watch, even as it flies from sight,
its plaintive calls cutting through you.

The noisy crows ignore it:
the bickering, squabbling multitudes.

Read the full of Lone Wild Goose

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.

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