| 英譯： |
Peace comes not to the four corners of the earth,
Old as I am, there's nowhere to take up a berth.
Sons and grandsons have all in fighting died,
And why should I alone save my own hide?
Throwing away the stick I leave my home;
Companions sympathize with me for my doom.
Fortunately my teeth are not bad as yet;
Lamentably my marrow in me has set.
As a man, and in armour being clad,
I bow with folded hands to part with the Head.
While lying on the way cries my old mate,
Her dress's too thin, for the year's drawing late.
I know it's a farewell forevermore,
And thinking she may catch cold I feel sore.
I'll ne'er return when I start to leave here,
Her bidding me to take care can I still hear.
The walls of Clay Gate Pass are strongly made;
The Apricot Garden's hard for the foes to invade.
It's different now from Ye City's defeat;
We shall have time to spend ere Death we meet.
There're separations and reunions in life,
Whether in your dotage or when you look alive.
Recalling the old days when I was young,
I sink in various thoughts and sigh for long.
All counties are involved in warfare,
The beacon fires light up the hills here and there.
The sanguinary corpses stench the plants,
And blood smears red the rivers and the plains.
Where could be the Land of Happiness?
Why should I wander still with tardiness?
Renouncing my humble cottage I'll go;
My heart in my chest collapses with woe!
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