杜甫的英文介绍

我需要关于杜甫的英文介绍，麻烦有的朋友告诉我谢谢，给20分，最好是权威的

Du Fu

born 712, Xiangyang, China
died 770, Hunan

Chinese poet, often considered the greatest of all time.

After a traditional Confucian education, he failed the important civil service examinations and consequently spent much of his life wandering, repeatedly attempting to gain court positions, with mixed success. His early poetry, which celebrates the natural world and bemoans the passage of time, garnered him renown. He suffered periods of extreme personal hardship, and as he matured his verse began to express profound compassion for humanity. An expert in all the poetic genres of his day, he is renowned for his superb classicism and skill in prosody, though many of the subtleties of his art do not survive translation.I Pass the Night at General Headquarters
A clear night in harvest time.
In courtyard at headquarters
The wu-tung trees grow cold.
In the city by the river
I wake alone by a guttering
Candle. All night long bugle
Calls disturb my thoughts. The splendor
Who bothers to look at it

Du Fu born 712, Xiangyang, China died 770, Hunan Chinese poet, often considered the greatest of all time. After a traditional Confucian education, he failed the important civil service examinations and consequently spent much of his life wandering, repeatedly attempting to gain court positions, with mixed success. His early poetry, which celebrates the natural world and bemoans the passage of time, garnered him renown. He suffered periods of extreme personal hardship, and as he matured his verse began to express profound compassion for humanity. An expert in all the poetic genres of his day, he is renowned for his superb classicism and skill in prosody, though many of the subtleties of his art do not survive translation.I Pass the Night at General Headquarters A clear night in harvest time. In courtyard at headquarters The wu-tung trees grow cold. In the city by the river I wake alone by a guttering Candle. All night long bugle Calls disturb my thoughts. The splendor Who bothers to look at it? Whirlwinds of dust, I cannot write. The frontier pass is unguarded. It is dangerous to travel. Ten years wandering, sick at heart. I perch here like a bird on a Twig, thankful for a moment’s peace. Homecoming---Late at Night Nightfall. I return from a Journey along the Tigers’ Trail. The mountains are black. Everybody is at home Asleep. The Great Bear descends To the river. Overhead The stars are huge in the sky. When I light the lamps at my Door, a frightened gibbon cries Out in the ravine. I hear The whitehaired watchman on his Round calling out the hour. Stick in hand, he keeps Guard and all is safe. Stars and Moon on the River The autumn night is clear After the thunderstorm. Venus glows on the river. The Milky Way is white as snow. The dark sky is vast and deep. The Northern Crown sets in the dusk. The moon like a clear mirror Rises form the great void. When it Has climbed high in the sky, moonlit Frost glitters on the chrysanthemums. Brimming Water Under my feet the moon Glides along the river. Near midnight, a gusty lantern Shines in the heart of night. Along the sandbars flocks Of white egrets roost, Each one clenched like a fist. In the wake of my barge The fish leap, cut the water, And dive and splash.

Du Fu born 712, Xiangyang, China died 770, Hunan Chinese poet, often considered the greatest of all time. After a traditional Confucian education, he failed the important civil service examinations and consequently spent much of his life wandering, repeatedly attempting to gain court positions, with mixed success. His early poetry, which celebrates the natural world and bemoans the passage of time, garnered him renown. He suffered periods of extreme personal hardship, and as he matured his verse began to express profound compassion for humanity. An expert in all the poetic genres of his day, he is renowned for his superb classicism and skill in prosody, though many of the subtleties of his art do not survive translation.

I Pass the Night at General Headquarters A clear night in harvest time. In courtyard at headquarters The wu-tung trees grow cold. In the city by the river I wake alone by a guttering Candle. All night long bugle Calls disturb my thoughts. The splendor Who bothers to look at it? Whirlwinds of dust, I cannot write. The frontier pass is unguarded. It is dangerous to travel. Ten years wandering, sick at heart. I perch here like a bird on a Twig, thankful for a moment’s peace. Homecoming---Late at Night Nightfall. I return from a Journey along the Tigers’ Trail. The mountains are black. Everybody is at home Asleep. The Great Bear descends To the river. Overhead The stars are huge in the sky. When I light the lamps at my Door, a frightened gibbon cries Out in the ravine. I hear The whitehaired watchman on his Round calling out the hour. Stick in hand, he keeps Guard and all is safe. Stars and Moon on the River The autumn night is clear After the thunderstorm. Venus glows on the river. The Milky Way is white as snow. The dark sky is vast and deep. The Northern Crown sets in the dusk. The moon like a clear mirror Rises form the great void. When it Has climbed high in the sky, moonlit Frost glitters on the chrysanthemums. Brimming Water Under my feet the moon Glides along the river. Near midnight, a gusty lantern Shines in the heart of night. Along the sandbars flocks Of white egrets roost, Each one clenched like a fist. In the wake of my barge The fish leap, cut the water, And dive and splash.

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