Today, we finish up the 3 part series on Tang Poetry Masters with a look at Du Fu, China's poet historian. The An Lushan Rebellion tore the Tang Dynasty in half and is one of the defining events of Chinese history. Du Fu is pivotal for our memory of that event, as his poems are often how the war is discussed, even today. In today's podcast, we look at two-ish poems that Du Fu wrote about the An Lushan Rebellion and try to better understand Du Fu's life.

Today, the podcast gets to Wang Wei and a Buddhist poem he wrote with the eye of a painter. Wang Wei is the least popular of the three High Tang poets, at least, since the Song Dynasty, but, back in the day, he was the most popular, more popular than Li Bai and Du Fu. We'll travel to his empty mountain and see if we aren't too disturbed by women doing the laundry to learn a bit about Chinese poetry.

Living in the Mountains on the Cusp of Fall

Empty mountain after a new rain,

The air is late, fall is coming

The bright moon shines amid the pines,

the clear stream's water flows over a rock.

Hubbub in the bamboo, the washing lady returning

the fishing boat pushing through lotuses.

And then it happens that the flowers of spring die,

Me, a hermit, I can hang here for a while.

山居秋暝

空山新雨後，天氣晚來秋。 明月松間照，清泉石上流。 竹喧歸浣女，蓮動下漁舟。 隨意春芳歇，王孫自可留。

Today is the beginning of a three part series I am going to do on the three big Tang poets, Li Bai, Wang Wei and Du Fu. In this episode, we take a look at Li Bai, often considered China's Greatest poet, and his relationship with the regions to China's West, modern day Xinjiang and the Stans. Li Bai has a strange relationship with the West; in fact, he was probably born in modern-day Kyrgyzstan, and was probably Persian, Turkic or maybe even Jewish. That's right, China's greatest poet may not have even been Chinese. Take a listen to the podcast to find out more.