The Song of a Mad Man (by Du Fu)

I've just published a new issue of the Tang Spirit newsletter that explores the deep and abiding importance of reading the poetry of Du Fu in the Age of Trump.  Click here to sign up for your free copy of the newsletter if you're not already a subscriber.

And here's my translation of one of Du Fu's wonderful poems, called the Song of a Mad Man.  This poem was written in the midst of the An Lushan Rebellion, a time when the political situation was still in turmoil, forcing Du Fu and his family to travel into the southwestern hinterlands of the empire, in pursuit of safe haven from hardship and unrest. 

Over the west bridge

A thousand miles distant

There’s a small grass hut

Where a hundred flowers bloom

Alongside deep green waters

Just like Tsang Lang in fact

The wind stirs within

The bamboo grove giving it

A graceful green shudder

The red lotus flowers are laden

With raindrops which

Makes their fragrance

Disperse slowly

Old friends still immersed

In their worldly fortunes

Have fallen far out of touch

While living here amidst hunger

The young children always look

Wan and doleful

I’m full of longing

Like a deep ravine that

Remains wild and untrammeled

I laugh at myself

Such a mad old man

Growing madder still

狂夫

杜甫

       万里桥西一草堂       

百花潭水即沧浪

      风含翠筱娟娟静       

雨裛红蕖冉冉香

      厚禄故人书断绝       

恒饥稚子色凄凉

       欲填沟壑唯疏放       

自笑狂夫老更狂

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