رثاء الأمير المأسور

رثاء الأمير المأسور

Above Chang'an's walls, white crows soar,

At night they cry at Yanqiu Gate once more.

They peck at mansions of the great,

While nobles flee the Tartar state.

Gold whips snapped, nine horses dead,

Kin could not flee ahead.

A jade and coral at his waist,

The prince weeps in the street, disgraced.

He will not speak his name, but pleads,

In misery, to serve as slave.

A hundred days in thorns and weeds,

His body torn, no skin to save.

Gaozu's descendants, all with noble mien,

Dragon stock differs from common men.

Beasts in the town, the dragon in the wild—

Dear prince, guard your precious life.

I dare not speak long at the crossroad's pace,

But linger here a moment for your sake.

Last night the east wind blew the scent of blood,

Camels from the east flood the old capital's mud.

The soldiers of Shuofang, once so brave and keen,

How fierce they were, how dull they seem!

I hear the Son of Heaven has ascended the throne,

His sacred virtue tamed the Southern Xiongnu alone.

The Hu have cut their faces, begging to avenge their shame—

Speak not, or others will mark your name.

Alas, dear prince, do not neglect this word:

The auspicious air of the Five Tombs endures, undisturbed.