"The endless fallen leaves rustle down, while the endless Yangtze River rolls on." Yang Fan sighed: "His life is all in the poems he left behind. He is a representative of realist poets."
Aunt Thirteen frowned and asked: "Why do I always feel like an illiterate in front of Xiaofan?"
The poet he mentioned does not match any of the poets I know.
Liu Qianqian felt even more ignorant. She could barely accept that she had never heard of the poet who could write lines like "I will climb to the top of the mountain, overlooking all the mountains" and "The boundless fallen leaves rustle down, the endless Yangtze River rolls on".
I have never even heard of these two lines of poetry.
It's so embarrassing.
It's such a disgrace.
"What's the name of this poet?" Aunt Thirteen asked Yang Fan.
A gleam of light appeared in Yang Fan's eyes, and he said, "The great poet Du Fu."
Thirteenth Aunt was stunned. The great poet Du Fu
Which Du Fu and who gave him the title
Why have I never heard of this poet
"Is this poet not in the textbooks?" Liu Qianqian asked.
"No, he has never appeared in either elementary school textbooks or university textbooks, either in the past or now," said Yang Fan.
Liu Qianqian breathed a sigh of relief: "I was wondering, even if I don't remember the poets that appeared in the textbooks, I will still have some impression of them when they are mentioned."
Aunt Thirteen asked Yang Fan: "What is the full poem of those two lines written by Du Fu when he was young?"
Yang Fan said: "How is Mount Tai? The green of Qi and Lu is endless. Nature has endowed it with divine beauty, and yin and yang divide the day and night. Clouds rise from my heart, and birds fly back into my eyes. I will climb to the top and look down on all the other mountains."
Aunt Thirteen and Liu Qianqian fell into a brief silence.
Then they looked at each other and saw the embarrassment and confusion in each other's eyes.
Or I haven't read enough.
People like Nalan Xingde and Tsangyang Gyatso have never been included in textbooks, and their names and poems are rarely known to people.
Later, as the Internet developed, people who liked reading moved their poems to the Internet, allowing more people to know about their existence.
After all, the length of textbooks is limited, and the people who write textbooks, in addition to considering the literary value and educational significance of the works, will also consider their own exposure and preferences, which may cause some equally excellent works to not be seen by students.
Most students are so busy with textbooks and in-class studies that they seldom read extracurricular books, so naturally they do not have the knowledge base of broad reading.
"You were the one who gave him the title of Poet Saint, right?" Liu Qianqian asked Yang Fan. It didn't make sense that she had never heard of such a poem.
"No." Yang Fan asked, "When you heard this poem, did you not think of some of the places you have been to?"
Before Liu Qianqian could answer, Aunt Thirteen asked, "Huangshan? Mount Tai?"
Not to mention all 5A scenic spots in China, at least most of the famous ones, such as Huangshan, have been visited by Shisan and Liu Qianqian when they were in school.
Ever since they were old enough to understand, people like them would travel around and broaden their horizons during school holidays.
Among the poets in the Three Hundred Tang Poems, which one did not come from traveling and wandering around
read more, walk more.
A poet like Li Bai traveled to most parts of China in his lifetime, which was extremely exaggerated in ancient times when transportation was extremely inconvenient.
"Yes, it's Mount Tai. Du Fu wrote this poem when he was climbing Mount Tai." Yang Fan was very satisfied with Aunt Thirteen. She was a very smart woman.
Liu Qianqian was probably still confused, wondering whether it was the Nanshan Mountain in the mountain city or the Fairy Mountain.
"Oh, now I remember that climbing Mount Tai does give me this majestic feeling." Liu Qianqian said.
Aunt Thirteen looked at Yang Fan suspiciously and asked, "Where are the last two lines of the poem?"
Yang Fan thought for a moment and said, "The wind is strong and the sky is high, the monkeys are howling, the sand is clear and the birds are flying back. The endless fallen leaves are rustling down, and the endless Yangtze River is rolling in. I am often a guest in the sad autumn thousands of miles away, and I am alone on the stage for a hundred years due to illness. The hardship and hatred have made my hair white, and I have just stopped drinking muddy wine in my poverty."
Liu Qianqian exclaimed: "There is actually such a talented poet who is not well known to the world. The people who compiled the textbooks are really blind."
Thirteenth Aunt pinched Yang Fan and said, "Did you make this up yourself? There is no such poet at all."
After Aunt Thirteen's reminder, Liu Qianqian finally came to her senses.
It's really possible.
"You've discovered this." Yang Fan said with a smile, "Thirteenth Aunt is well-read and hard to deceive. There is indeed no poet named Du Fu in our history."
"Do these two poems also not exist?" asked Aunt Thirteen.
"It didn't exist before, but it exists now," said Yang Fan.
Not long after he finished speaking, he glanced sideways.
A hand reached out from under the pillow and pinched the part of his body that was the most fleshy and under the most pressure.
When dealing with people like Thirteen, mountains of gold and silver are useless, and a nice word is worth a million gold.
If Liu Qianqian hadn't been there, Thirteen would have sat up and bullied him.
Lifting his butt, Yang Fan put his hand down.
Thirteen's eyes widened, and then he began to try to pull his hand back.
"You lied to me again, I trusted you so much!" Liu Qianqian also reached out and pinched Yang Fan's arm.
It didn't hurt much, so Yang Fan didn't argue with Liu Qianqian. He said, "The fact that you were deceived shows that you haven't studied much. Don't always watch videos online or watch useless news like who's sow climbed a tree. Read more useful books. Now is not the time for you to have fun. When you are older and don't have to work hard for a career anymore, you can relax, see the world, and enjoy life."
"Your tricks are hard to guard against. Didn't Aunt Thirteen get deceived by you at the beginning?" Liu Qianqian said unconvinced.
Yang Fan lifted his buttocks.
Thirteen then pulled his hand out, covered it quietly, and rubbed it again and again.
"Guoguo, it's time to go to bed." Yang Fan stood up.
The cartoon just ended and it was time for Guoguo to go to bed.
"Are we going to sleep?" Guo Guo looked up as Yang Fan led her back to the room. "Dad, I don't want to sleep yet. Can we play for a while longer?"
"No, there will be many activities tomorrow. Don't you have a dance program? Go to bed early. Only if you get enough sleep can you have fun tomorrow." Yang Fan said.
"Oh, then go to bed. Dad, remember to come and spend the holiday with me after get off work tomorrow." Guoguo went into the bathroom with Yang Fan. After Yang Fan turned on the faucet in the sink, she put her hands under it to wash.
After washing her hands, she turned off the faucet herself and went out with Yang Fan.
Walking to the bed, taking off her shoes, the little girl climbed on and lay down: "Dad, what story will we tell tonight?"
"Tell us the story of The Little Match Girl." Yang Fan sat down beside the bed.
"Wait for us for a while." Aunt Thirteen and Liu Qianqian also came into the room. They also wanted to listen to Yang Fan's story.
His stories are suitable for people of all ages.
The plot may be a bit childish, but the way he tells it makes people feel very comfortable, and it is no exaggeration to say that it is fascinating.
Ten minutes later.
After telling the bedtime story, Guoguo fell asleep. Yang Fan got up and went back to his room.
As soon as I sat down at the computer desk, Liu Qianqian pushed open the door and walked in confidently.