<Header>
<Author: 岑參>
<Title: 輪臺歌奉送封大夫出師西征>
<Format: 七言古詩>
<Year: 1987>
<BookName: 300 Tang Poems: A New Translation>
<Translator: 許淵冲, 陸佩弦, 吳鈞陶>
<TranslatedTitle: A Send-off to General Feng from Luntai upon His Western Expedition>
<BookPage: 207-209>
<UsedPage: 3>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
輪臺城頭夜吹角，
輪臺城北旄頭落。
羽書昨夜過渠黎，
單于已在金山西。
戍樓西望煙塵黑，
漢兵屯在輪臺北。
上將擁旄西出征，
平明吹笛大軍行。
四邊伐鼓雪海湧，
三軍大呼陰山動。
虜塞兵氣連雲屯，
戰場白骨纏草根。
劍河風急雪片闊，
沙口石凍馬蹄脫。
亞相勤王甘苦辛，
誓將報主靜邊塵。
古來青史誰不見，
今見功名勝古人。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Above the city walls of Luntai,
The whole night, the blare of the horn lasts.
To the north of this border city,
The flags are already off their masts,

Last night, past the country of Quli,
Urgent orders from the highest ran.
The noted chief of the Huns, Chan Yu –
Quartered his army, west of Jingshan.

Watching from the observation posts,
To the west, one sees dust that looks black.
As one's eyes sweep northward of Luntai,
There, are stationed our regiments crack.

The general bears the Han standard,
Taking his men west for a campaign.
When morning comes with fifes in full play,
Our troops are marching in a long train.

The rumble of the big drums on all sides
Strikes Snow Sea and, with more force, rebound.
With the war whoops made by our soldiers,
The surrounding sombre hills resound.

The Hoos muster all the men they can,
Gathering together like dense clouds.
Over the battlefield are bleached bones,
With roots of grass and weeds as shrouds.

Over the Jianhe the winds blow hard.
Snow is falling in broad, heavy flake.
The stones about these wastes turn so cold –
That some horses leave hoofs in their wake.

The Vice-chanceller would serve the king,
Whate'er hardships he may have to bear.
He's vowed to repay lord and master,
Pacifying all border affair.

All must have seen those bamboo tablets,
Where the ancients had events engraved.
We have by far beaten the ancients:
We've seen merits won for dangers braved.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Above the city walls of Luntai, The whole night, the blare of the horn lasts.
To the north of this border city, The flags are already off their masts,

Last night, past the country of Quli, Urgent orders from the highest ran.
The noted chief of the Huns, Chan Yu – Quartered his army, west of Jingshan.

Watching from the observation posts, To the west, one sees dust that looks black.
As one's eyes sweep northward of Luntai, There, are stationed our regiments crack.

The general bears the Han standard, Taking his men west for a campaign.
When morning comes with fifes in full play, Our troops are marching in a long train.

The rumble of the big drums on all sides Strikes Snow Sea and, with more force, rebound.
With the war whoops made by our soldiers, The surrounding sombre hills resound.

The Hoos muster all the men they can, Gathering together like dense clouds.
Over the battlefield are bleached bones, With roots of grass and weeds as shrouds.

Over the Jianhe the winds blow hard. Snow is falling in broad, heavy flake.
The stones about these wastes turn so cold – That some horses leave hoofs in their wake.

The Vice-chanceller would serve the king, Whate'er hardships he may have to bear.
He's vowed to repay lord and master, Pacifying all border affair.

All must have seen those bamboo tablets, Where the ancients had events engraved.
We have by far beaten the ancients: We've seen merits won for dangers braved.
<End Formatted Translation>