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那一场秋风刮了一千多年,诗人房顶的草仍旧在天空飘。许多朝代睡去,它们中不少醉死于莺歌燕舞,与我同时代的人在天气渐冷的季节,以望望星空的方式挂念着唐代的那束草,有了它,一座房子才能完整。完整的房子里,那个写诗的人不必承受额外的风雨。心不冷的时候,他可以去登一座山,站在山顶的诗人全是杜甫。我相信他和后来的我们从山上向下看,故乡暂时不在身边也不要紧,爱广袤的大地,爱到语不惊人死不休。
That autumn blew for more than a thousand years, the grass on the roof of the poet still floating in the sky. Many dynasties go to sleep, many of them drunk in the yingge swallow dance, and my contemporaries in the weather getting colder season, in order to look at the stars hanging over the lawn of the Tang Dynasty, with it, a house can be complete . In a complete house, the person who wrote the poem does not have to bear the extra wind and rain. When the heart is not cold, he can go to board a mountain, all the poets on the top of the hill are Du Fu. I believe he and later we look down from the mountain, the temporary absence of hometown does not matter, love the vast land, love the words are not alarming endless.