燕歌行 (高適)

نشيد يانتسي (قاو شي)

In the twenty-sixth year of the Kaiyuan era, a guest who had accompanied Censor-in-Chief Zhang on a campaign beyond the frontier and returned composed a "Song of the Yan" and showed it to me. Moved by the matters of military expedition and garrison duty, I responded with this poem.

The Han dynasty's war dust rises in the northeast;

A Han general leaves his home to crush the remnant brigands.

A man of valor naturally values bold advance;

The Son of Heaven bestows extraordinary honors upon him.

With gongs beaten and drums struck, they pass through Yuguan;

Banners and pennants wind endlessly between the Jie Shi rocks.

A colonel's dispatch flies across the vast desert;

The Chanyu's hunting fires illuminate Mount Langshan.

The mountains and rivers are desolate at the uttermost edge of the land;

The barbarian cavalry press down amid wind and rain.

Before the ramparts, soldiers hover between life and death;

Beneath the tent, fair ladies still sing and dance.

In the vast desert, late autumn—the frontier grass withers;

Around the lonely city, the setting sun—few remain to fight.

Having received imperial favor, they ever hold the foe in scorn;

Their strength spent at the mountain passes, the siege yet unbroken.

Far in armor, long they toil at distant garrison;

Jade chopsticks must weep since the hour of parting.

The young wife in the south of the city is heartbroken;

The expeditionary soldier north of Ji turns back his gaze in vain.

The frontier stretches boundless—how can one traverse it?

The remote wasteland stretches vast—what else is there to see?

At the three watches of battle, killing aura forms into massed clouds;

Through the cold night, the clack of the night-watch mortar is heard.

They face each other, white blades and blood streaming freely;

Devotion to duty has ever been—how could it be for merit alone?

Do you not see the bitter hardship of campaigning on the sandy field?

Even to this day, they still recall General Li.