Tu Fu White Poems

  • 1.
    The sorrow of riverside blossoms inexplicable,
    And nowhere to complain -- I've gone half crazy.
    I look up our southern neighbor. But my friend in wine
    Gone ten days drinking. I find only an empty bed.
    ...
  • 2.
    The carts squeak and trundle, the horses whinny, the conscripts go by, each
    with a bow and arrows at his waist. Their fathers, mothers, wives, and children
    run along beside them to see them off. The Hsien-yang Bridge cannot be seen for
    dust. They pluck at the men's clothes, stamp their feet, or stand in the way
    ...
  • 3.
    Tonight at Fu-chou, this moon she watches
    Alone in our room. And my little, far-off
    Children, too young to understand what keeps me
    Away, or even remember Chang'an. By now,
    ...
  • 4.
    On the nineteenth day of the tenth month of the second year of Ta-li (15 November 767), in the residence of
    Yuan Ch`ih, Lieutenant-Governor of K`uei-chou, I saw Li Shih-er-niang of Lin-ying dance the chien-ch`i.
    Impressed by the brilliance and thrust of her style, I asked her whom she had studied under. ``I am a pupil of
    Kung-sun'', was the reply.
    ...
  • 5.
    Roads not yet glistening, rain slight,
    Broken clouds darken after thinning away.
    Where they drift, purple cliffs blacken.
    And beyond -- white birds blaze in flight.
    ...
  • 6.
    The old fellow from Shao-ling weeps with stifled sobs as he walks furtively by the bends of the Sepentine on a day in spring. In
    the waterside palaces the thousands of doors are locked. For whom have the willows and rushed put on their fresh greenery?

    I remember how formerly, when the Emperor's rainbow banner made its way into the South Park, everything in the park
    ...
Total 6 White Poems by Tu Fu

Top 10 most used topics by Tu Fu

White 6 River 6 Moon 6 Light 5 Spring 5 Away 5 Dark 5 Long 4 Sky 4 Remember 4

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Andrew Lang Poem
Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
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