Tu Fu

(712-770 / Gong County / China)

Comments about Tu Fu

  • Rookie Jesus Christ (4/2/2014 10:50:00 AM)

    Ganon Dorf is right!

    8 person liked.
    16 person did not like.
  • Rookie Jesus Christ (4/2/2014 10:48:00 AM)

    What the heck? ! That made zero sense!

  • Rookie Daniel Partlow (4/2/2008 7:10:00 AM)

    One of Tu Fu (Du Pu) 's greatest poems is not listed here but I quote it in:
    http: //www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-route-from-the-capital-to-fengxian-to-damascus/

  • Rookie Vladimir Markelof (4/10/2007 7:06:00 AM)

    Dear friends!
    I offer you translation of the poem of Mr. Tu Fu into Russian. Translation is placed on a Russian-speaking site
    www.stihi.ru
    sirch: А в т о р – В л а д и м и р М а р к е л о в – Н а и с х о д е д н я
    Thank you.

  • Rookie - 0 Points Alex Nodopaka (5/10/2006 9:57:00 AM)

    Dear Honorable Tu Fu,

    With great pleasure it was
    to read your fine wine poem
    many an Englishman would envy
    your 8th century language mastery
    As for me I like Vodka better than tofu

    Sincerely,

    Your gypsy friend from the 21st century

  • Freshman - 784 Points Uriah Hamilton (7/12/2005 7:35:00 AM)

    Tu Fu had immense love for Li Po!
    Uriah loves them both!

Best Poem of Tu Fu

Full Moon

Above the tower -- a lone, twice-sized moon.
On the cold river passing night-filled homes,
It scatters restless gold across the waves.
On mats, it shines richer than silken gauze.

Empty peaks, silence: among sparse stars,
Not yet flawed, it drifts. Pine and cinnamon
Spreading in my old garden . . . All light,
All ten thousand miles at once in its light!

Read the full of Full Moon

Dreaming Of Li Po

After the separation of death one can eventually swallow back one's grief, but
the separation of the living is an endless, unappeasable anxiety. From
pestilent Chiang-nan no news arrives of the poor exile. That my old friend
should come into my dream shows how constantly he is in my thoughts. I fear
that this is not the soul of a living man: the journey is so immeasurably far.
When your soul left, the maple woods were green: on its return the passes were
black with night. Lying now enmeshe

[Hata Bildir]