| 英譯： |
A Tartar wind blows on Tai horses
Thronging northward through the Lu-yang Gap:
Wu cavalry like snowflakes seaward
Riding westward know of no return,
Where as they ford the Shang-liao shallows
A yellow cloud stares faceless on them;
An old mother parting from her son
Calls on Heaven in the wild grasses,
The white horses round flags and banners,
Sadly she keeps and clasps him to her:
' "Poor white poplar in the autumn moon,
Soon it was felled on the Yü-chang Hills" —
You were ever a peaceful scholar,
You were not trained to kill and capture!'
'How can you weep for death in battle,
To free our Prince from stubborn bandits?
Given pure will, stones swallow feathers,
How can you speak of fearing dangers?
'Our towered ships look like flying whales
Where the squalls race on Fallen Star Lake:
This song you sing — if you sing loudly,
Three armies' hair will streak, too, with grey!'
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