Thinking of You －an introduce of Su Shi


If someone likes the poem of Songci, he must hear of Su Shi, a famous poet in Song dynasty. He is versatile, not only good at poem & prose, but also in other ways, such as calligraphy.
He was born in Meishan, Sichuang province. His father is a good proser, who returned to the fold and made great efforts, finally got a bright career in prose. His parents played a great role in his early education.
some anecdotes about him:
the original of Dongpo meat. When Mr Su was reduced to Huangzhou, He wrote a poem, saying that
there is good meat in Huangzhou
price is cheap as sand
the rich is reluctant to eat
the poor doesn’t know how to cook
light fire, little water
delicious when the duration is proper
everyday eat one bowl
so leave me alone when I’m full

return the house
He spent his late years in Changzhou. He spent all his deposit to buy a house and prepared to choose one day to move in. By accident, he heard a old lady crying sadly. So he asked why. The grandma said that she cried because of her unworthy grandchildren. She had a old house, passing from generation to generation over a century, which was sold by them. Originally, what he bought was the grandma’s house. So he burned the title deed and returned the house to her. Late years, he rent others’ house until death.
His love life
There are three figure playing important roles in his love life.
They were his wives. He married three times. His first wife was
Wang fu. She was a combination of beauty and wisdom. She married
him when 16. she was a great assistant in his life. She always
gave very useful suggestions to him. But she died at early age
after being living 11 years with him. Ten years after, he wrote a poem to remember her.

·Ten years now, since death did us part.

Not thinking too much,But how can I ever forget!
A lone grave a thousand miles away,
Nowhere can I pour out my sorrow.Even if we met,
you wouldn't know me:Face covered with dust,Temples hoary
like frost. The other night in a lingering dream I was home
again.By the window of the small chamberYou were doing your
hair.Face to face now, but unable to utter a word--Only
teardrops kept rolling down.Well do I remember the spot
where our hearts broke:A bright moon-lit night,A mound of
stunted pines.

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