“孟冬十郡良家子,血作陈陶泽牛水。野旷天清无战声,四万义军同日死。”“山雪河冰野萧瑟,青是烽烟白人骨。”杜甫用沉郁顿挫的笔,写下这些文字,即使穿越千年,仍能让我们如同亲见那惨烈的场景、感受那撕裂的疼痛。读着杜甫的一首首诗歌,我们懂得:他的内心忧虑,只因时刻不忘多艰之民生、天下之寒士;他的眼里含泪,多因关山戎马、三月烽火;他的霜鬓日增,只因老病常作客,酬志亦无门。我们了解的杜甫,是那样纯粹, “Meng Dong ten good family, the blood for Chen Taoze cattle .Gong Kuang Tian Qing no sound, four thousand justice army died the same day. ” “Snowy icefield bleak, green is the beacon of white bone. ” Du Fu with gloomy frustration The pen, written in these words, even through the millennium, still allows us to see the tragic scenes as pro, feel the torn pain. Reading Du Fu’s first poem, we know: his inner worry, just because of the hardships of life, the world’s poor people; tears in his eyes, mostly due to Guanshan war horse, March flames; his cream Growing rapidly, often because of the old sick often guest, reward no one. Du Fu we know, is so pure,