| 英譯： |
The chariots rattle on, the battle horses neigh:
The footmen each bears bow and arrows by his waist
Dragging along, their kins have parting words to say,
The Xianyang Bridge's lost in clouds of dust they raised.
Stamping their feet, grasping the clothes, getting in the way,
They cry, their uproars soar up e'en to the clouds grey,
A passer-by asks aside one of the footmen.
"Enlistment is so frequent," thus but states the man.
"At fifteen I was sent north the River to defend,
"Now at forty still l've to go west to till the land.
"The Chief of Hundred wrapp'd my head when first I went,
"Being back with hair grey, yet to far frontier l'm sent.
"A flood of blood is flowing o'er the boundary,
"Emperor Wu still wills extending territory.
"Don't you know, in two hundred counties, east of our
country,
"All villages're o'errun with thorns, and all in misery?
"Although there're strong women taking up husbandry,
"Crops in the fields are ploughed disorderly.
"Since soldiers from Chin fight always desperately,
"Like dogs and chickens we're driven to battle-array.
"You have the heart to ask me, you venerable man, "Yet, how can I, a footman, dare to you complain?
"So to say this winter, as by yourself you see,
"They do not let us from the west of the Pass live in peace.
"The County Magistrate duns for the land taxes,
"And by what means can we pay out such and such fees?
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"Now really I believe in what the people say:
"To bear a daughter is far better than a son.
"A daughter may marry a next-door neighbour some day,
"A son is fated among wild weeds to lie slain.
"Don't you see, far away at the Lake of Chinhai,
"E'er since the ancient times skulls're spread under the sky?
"The new ghosts are resentful while the old ones cry,
"In the gloomy wet days they sadly wail and sigh!"
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