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“A falcon hovers at the edge of the sky.
Two gulls drift slowly up the river.

Vulnerable while they ride the wind,
they coast and glide with ease.

Dew is heavy on the grass below,
the spider's web is ready.

Heaven's ways include the human:
among a thousand sorrows, I stand alone.”
― Tu Fu

“Could I get mansions covering ten thousand miles, I'd house all the poor scholars and make them beam with smiles”
― Fu Du

“At the edge of heaven, tatters of autumn
Cloud. After ten thousand miles of clear
Lovely morning, the west wind arrives. Here,
Long rains haven't slowed farmers. Frontier

Willows air thin kingfisher colors, and
Red fruit flecks mountain pears. As a flute's
Mongol song drifts from a tower, one
Goose climbs clear through vacant skies.”
― Tu Fu, The Selected Poems of Tu Fu

“Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure;
And spring comes green again to trees and grasses
Where petals have been shed like tears
And lonely birds have sung their grief.
... After the war-fires of three months,
One message from home is worth a ton of gold.
... I stroke my white hair. It has grown too thin
To hold the hairpins any more.”
― Tu Fu

“Wagons rattling and banging,
horses neighing and snorting,
conscripts marching, each with bow and arrows at his hip,
fathers and mothers, wives and children, running to see them off--
so much dust kicked up you can't see Xian-yang Bridge!
And the families pulling at their clothes, stamping feet in anger,
blocking the way and weeping--
ah, the sound of their wailing rises straight up to assault heaven.
And a passerby asks, "What's going on?"
The soldier says simply, "This happens all the time.
From age fifteen some are sent to guard the north,
and even at forty some work the army farms in the west.
When they leave home, the village headman has to wrap their turbans for them;
when they come back, white-haired, they're still guarding the frontier.
The frontier posts run with blood enough to fill an ocean,
and the war-loving Emperor's dreams of conquest have still not ended.”
― Tu Fu

“Shine: clear dew aching with light.”
― Tu Fu

“Separation by death must finally be choked down,
but separation in life is a long anguish,

Chiang-nan is a pestilential land;
no word from you there in exile.

You have been in my dreams, old friend,
as if knowing how much I miss you.

Caught in a net,
how is it you still have wings?

I fear you are no longer mortal;
the distance to here is enormous.

When your spirit came, the maples were green;
when it went, the passes were black.

The setting moon spills light on the rafters;
for a moment I think it's your face.

The waters are deep, the waves wide;
don't let the river gods take you. ”
― Tu Fu

“My path is full of petals–I have swept it for no others.
My thatch gate has been closed–but opens now for you.
It’s a long way to the market, I can offer you little�
Yet here in my cottage there is old wine for our cups.”
― Du Fu

“Wind, light and time ever revolve; Let us then enjoy life as best we can." from "The Winding River”
― Tu Fu

“Drifting, drifting,/ what am I more than/ a single gull/ between sky and earth?”
― Du Fu, Three Tang Dynasty Poets

“Beneath the light, the river and hills are beautiful,
The spring breeze bears the fragrance of flowers and grass.
The mud has thawed, and swallows fly around.
On the warm sand, mandarin ducks are sleeping”
― Du Fu

“it’s all one single grief.”
― Du Fu, The Selected Poems of Tu Fu: Expanded and Newly Translated by David Hinton

“Two yellow orioles sing under emerald willows
One line of White Egrets ascends clear skies
Window frames Western riged snow of a thousand autumns
Door moors Eastern Wu a boat of ten-thousand li”
― Du Fu, The Selected Poems of Tu Fu

“Who changes, who even slows this dead dazzling drunk in the wings of life we live?”
― Du Fu, The Selected Poems of Tu Fu: Expanded and Newly Translated by David Hinton

“News comes from nowhere.”
― Du Fu, The Selected Poems of Tu Fu: Expanded and Newly Translated by David Hinton

“On war-torn land
streams flow
and mountains stand”
― Du Fu

“White gull in the vastness of the waves—ten thousand miles away, who can tame him?”
― Du Fu, The Selected Poems of Du Fu

“A Madman

Fathoms past the western bridge, a small thatched hut
Where flowers bloom on waters like Suzhou canals.

Wind caresses the blue bamboo with idle tenderness
And the rain slowly coaxes fragrance from red lotus.

Well-salaried old friends no longer write to me here.
My ever-hungry children now grow sickly and pale.

How I long to lie down in some gully, alone and untrammeled!
But I laugh at myself: an old madman growing older, growing madder.”
― Du Fu