The balance between melancholy, beauty, playfulness here and there, and a stunning attention to detail is masterful.

Hinton's translation is a revelation in how it explores the cosmology underpinning Tu Fu's language. More thoughts on the book: Columbia Journal

Un viejo anhelo, satisfecho en la feria del libro de Madrid... Poesía discreta, emotiva y sencilla.
Por poner una pega, la traducción debería haberse esforzado a mantener un aspecto formal similar al del original chino (si no fonética ni métrica, si debería haber mantenido la rigidez acentual).

A wonderful translation, with explanations of poetic form as well as the poet's personal history and the political context of the period. Love it.

Fino, exquisito, delicado. Sin más ornamento que sus ideas, cada poema es un pequeño paseo en silencio, dentro de uno mismo. Gran poesía.

I do not know Chinese, so I cannot evaluate the claims pro and con regarding the quality of the translation. A ch'an master I know (American) who is also a poet says that Hinton is the best, though. In any case, I loved these poems, and fell in love with Tu Fu as well. I think you will too. Read from the beginning to the end. It leaves a strong imprint. BTW - I know some are troubled by the translation of place names rather than the use of the Chinese language for these names - I did not mind at all. In fact I did not know that Chinese place names meant anything at all....
Is Tu Fu the greatest poet of all time? Perhaps. Certainly up there with the psalmist and the other poets of the Hebrew Bible, as well as Homer and Virgil.

I read Tu Fu so long ago that I really didn't remember his poetry at all.

It's very interesting, especially when compared to his contemporaries. He seems much more concerned with the bigger questions of state. Whereas many of his contemporaries were sticking to the Tao and Confucian teaching with a focus on every day events, on nature, on the simple beauty of living, Tu Fu was chronicling the chaos of An Lushan's rebellion and the subsequent decades of brutality. The ravages of war are thick in your eyes, ears, and mouth when reading these poems.

Even as he grew older and moved far from the chaos, war and suffering were still in his poems. Perhaps it's because of the Tibetan raids encroaching from the west or because his health declined and continued to worsen over the last two decades of his life, but there's a deep sense of sorrow in his poems. There are poems with the lightness of Li Bo, but many more are somber affairs.

But, yes, it's Tu Fu, and this kind of brilliance, regardless how old, never really goes out of style.

Sitting alone in the dark, I think of you
far away.
Tonight, the wind carries
your voice through the clouds,
whispering love and longing.

Every time I have read these poems, I feel like being witnessing the ancient China during the Tang Dynasty.

Macizos de crisantemos han abierto sus lágrimas dos veces.

3.5

It was ok. I liked some of the imagery, but I found the style of writing (which I realize now was chosen by the editor) was not super intriguing. Good subject, but not my favorite writing. Some of the poems I loved, though. Just much fewer than I was expecting.

Utterly and completely powerful. Tu Fu lived in the eight century during a time of social upheaval. War had an increasing impact on his life. As he reached old age, he struggled with poverty and homelessness but managed to continue writing throughout. He documented his country and its times in careful and cutting detail as well as his own inner reflections on what he saw and experienced. His poetry captures the natural world of which people are a part and evokes its processes, sublime and terrible, with equal parts celebration, wonder and despair. I will return to this book over and over. Looking forward to the accompanying analysis by Hinton, Awakened Cosmos.

“In the delicate beach-grass, a slight breeze
Boat masters teetering far up into isolate

Night, stars founder across open plains
Moon swells up flowing on a vast river.

How could poems bring honor. Career
Lost in old age and sickness, I soar wind-

Drifted. Is there anything like it: endless
Heaven and Earth, and a lone sand-gull?”

I wanted to read some older Chinese poetry. The histories say that Tu Fu and Li Po (Tang Dynasty, ~700 CE) are considered among the great classical poets, so I started there.
What is the old saying? You can translate everything in a poem except the poetry. That is the way I felt reading the poems of Tu Fu. It was interesting but not noteworthy.