Song of My Cottage Unroofed By Autumn Gales
- Poetry of Du Fu

八月秋高风怒号，卷我屋上三重茅。

茅飞度江洒江郊，高者挂罥长林梢，下者飘转沉塘坳。

南村群童欺我老无力，忍能对面为盗贼。

公然抱茅入竹去，唇焦口燥呼不得，归来倚杖自叹息。

俄顷风定云墨色，秋天漠漠向昏黑。

布衾多年冷似铁，骄儿恶卧踏里裂。

床床屋漏无干处，雨脚如麻未断绝。

自经丧乱少睡眠，长夜沾湿何由彻。

安得广厦千万间，大庇天下寒士俱欢颜，风雨不动安如山。

呜呼！何时眼前突兀见此屋，吾庐独破受冻死亦足！

In the eighth month autumn's high winds angrily howl,

And sweep three layers of thatch from off my house.

The straw flies over the river, where it scatters,

Some is caught and hangs high up in the treetops,

Some floats down and sinks into the ditch.

The urchins from the southern village bully me, weak as I am;

They're cruel enough to rob me to my face,

Openly, they carry the straw into the bamboo.

My mouth and lips are dry from pointless calling,

I lean again on my cane and heave a sigh.

The wind soon calms, and the clouds turn the colour of ink;

The autumn sky has turned completely black.

My ancient cotton quilt is cold as iron,

My darling children sleep badly, and kick it apart.

The roof leaks over the bed- there's nowhere dry,

The rain falls thick as hemp, and without end.

Lost amid disorder, I hardly sleep,

Wet through, how can I last the long nights!

If I could get a mansion with a thousand, ten thousand rooms,

A great shelter for all the world's scholars, together in joy,

Solid as a mountain, the elements could not move it.

Oh! If I could see this house before me,

I'd happily freeze to death in my broken hut!