The sheep and cattle come to rest,
All thatched gates closed east and west.
The gentle breeze and the moon bright
Remind me of homeland at night.
Among rocks flow fountains unseen;
Autumn drips dewdrops on grass green.
The candle brightens white-haired head.
Why should its flame blaze up so red?
Original Poem:
「日暮」
杜甫
牛羊下来久，各已闭柴门。
风月自清夜，江山非故园。
石泉流暗壁，草露滴秋根。
头白灯明里，何须花烬繁。
Interpretation:
In the fall of 767 A.D., Du Fu, while living in exile in Kui Zhou, saw the flat terrain, clear streams, craggy mountain walls, and lush vegetation in the area of Dui Xi. The mountain village where he lived was quiet and peaceful at dusk, which triggered his homesickness.
The first two lines: Groups of cows and sheep have long returned from the fields, and each family has closed the wood door.
Sheep and cows, in twos and threes, bellowing far and near, idly return to the village, the poet describes how slowly and leisurely they walk. The wooden doors of all the houses have been closed, and the last of the setting sun in the west has swept over them, so that heaven and earth are quiet, waiting to enter the darkness of the night. Soon after, every house was lighted, and people were in their own little worlds, either talking about the world, busy at the stove, feeding the cows, or warming wine for a drink. In any case, God blessed the kind and ordinary people, each in his own way, and this village, like an old man ready to sleep, makes people feel peaceful, warm and tranquil.
The third and fourth sentences: The wind and moon are clear since it is an enchanting night, but this beautiful mountains and rivers are not one's home.
But this is not the author's home in front of him. The author actually happens to be homesick. After the setting sun's afterglow, the moon gradually rises, the soft wind brushes through the village, people's hearts also want to be soft, soft up, there is the smell of burning firewood in the air, the cows and sheep and chickens and ducks have been gradually fall asleep, the moonlight makes everything quiet, this is a refreshingly beautiful night. But although such a place is beautiful, the bright moon is like frost, the good wind is like water, and there is infinite clear scenery, but the author is only a passer-by in it.
The fifth and sixth sentences: spring water gurgles from the stone wall, the dewdrops of the autumn night coalesce on the grass roots.
The author, who could not find inner peace, fell into the deeper night, and went to see the scenery on the mountain alone. Under the quiet moonlight and in the shadows of the rocks, he heard the spring water gurgling along the stone wall, making a cool sound. Dew condensed on the roots of the grass near his feet, wetting his shoes. When you look closely, they stain the grass blades one by one, seeping down the blades into the ground and moisturizing the roots of the weeds. On an autumn night like this in the mountains, the wind and dew are so strong that the chill of the water seems to soak into one's skin.
The last two lines: white hair and bright lights reflect, why should the lights splash with glistening sparks to report any good news.
Forget the cold of the wind and dew and independent people, there must always be a lot of things on their minds. I do not know how long to stand, the author paced back indoors, twisting the lamp sitting alone, the volume of reading, his head full of gray hair, in the bright light of the exceptionally silver white as snow. He was upset, thinking that he was once full of passion, the ambition to help the people, can not withstand the old hair like snow. But the lamp embers do not seem to understand the sadness of people, and jumping sparks frequently play tricks, seems to be teasing the poor old poet happy.
This poem is supposed to be about scenery, and there are not many words and phrases involving the heart, but it makes the readers feel that there is indissoluble bleakness and sadness in it. The feeling of late life is swirling in the beautifully evocative description of the scenery.
Poem translator:
Xu Yuan-chong (许渊冲)
About the poet:
Du Fu (杜甫), 712 - 770 AD, was a great poet of the Tang Dynasty, known as the "Sage of Poetry". Born into a declining bureaucratic family, Du Fu had a rough life, and his turbulent and dislocated life made him keenly aware of the plight of the masses. Therefore, his poems were always closely related to the current affairs, reflecting the social life of that era in a more comprehensive way, with profound thoughts and a broad realm. In his poetic art, he was able to combine many styles, forming a unique style of "profound and thick", and becoming a great realist poet in the history of China.
