Clouds on frontier o'ershadow mountains clad in snow;
A lonely town afar faces Pass of Jade Gate.
Our golden armor pierced by sand, we fight the foe;
We won't come back till we destroy the hostile state.
The wind and sand in desert have dimmed sunlight;
With red flags half unfurled we go through the camp gate.
North of the River Tao, after nocturnal fight,
Our vanguards capture the chieftain of hostile state.
ON THE FRONTIER
The moon still shines on mountain passes as of yore.
How many guardsmen of the Great Wall are no more!
If the flying general were still there in command,
No hostile steeds would have dared to invade our land.
Louder than gusty winds twang horn-backed bows;
Hunting outside the town the general goes.
Keener o'er withered grass his falcon's eye,
Lighter on melted snow his steed trots by.
No sooner is New Harvest Market passed
Than he comes back to Willow Camp at last.
He looks back where he shot down vultures bare
Only to find cloud on cloud spread o'er there.