<Header>
<Author: 岑參>
<Title: 走馬川行奉送出師西征>
<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: Song of Running-Horse River in Farewell to General Feng on His Western Expedition>
<BookPage: 205-206>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 1>
<End Header>
<Poem>
君不見走馬川行雪海邊，
平沙莽莽黃入天。
輪臺九月風夜吼，
一川碎石大如斗，
隨風滿地石亂走。
匈奴草黃馬正肥，
金山西見煙塵飛。
漢家大將西出師，
將軍金甲夜不脫。
半夜軍行戈相撥，
風頭如刀面如割。
馬毛帶雪汗氣蒸，
五花連錢旋作冰。
幕中草檄硯水凝，
虜騎聞之應膽懾。
料知短兵不敢接，
車師西門佇獻捷。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
Do you not see the Running-Horse River flow
                 Along the sea of snow
And sand has yellowed sky and earth, high and low?
In the ninth month at Wheel Tower winds howl at night,
The River fills with broken stones fallen from the height,
Which run riot with howling winds as if in flight.
When grass turns, yellow, the plump Hunnish horses neigh,
West of Mount Gold dusts rise, they're in battle array.
Our general leads his army on his westward way.
He keeps his iron armor on all the night long,
Spears clang at midnight when his army march along,
Their faces cut by the wind which blows sharp and strong.
Both snow and sweat turn into steam on horse's mane,
Which soon on horse's back turns into ice again.
Ink freezes in the tent while he plans the campaign.
On hearing this, the foemen should tremble with fear.
Dare they cross their swords with us when our men are near?
We'll await news of victory at the west gate here.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
Do you not see the Running-Horse River flow Along the sea of snow
And sand has yellowed sky and earth, high and low?
In the ninth month at Wheel Tower winds howl at night,
The River fills with broken stones fallen from the height,
Which run riot with howling winds as if in flight.
When grass turns, yellow, the plump Hunnish horses neigh,
West of Mount Gold dusts rise, they're in battle array.
Our general leads his army on his westward way.
He keeps his iron armor on all the night long,
Spears clang at midnight when his army march along,
Their faces cut by the wind which blows sharp and strong.
Both snow and sweat turn into steam on horse's mane,
Which soon on horse's back turns into ice again.
Ink freezes in the tent while he plans the campaign.
On hearing this, the foemen should tremble with fear.
Dare they cross their swords with us when our men are near?
We'll await news of victory at the west gate here.
<End Formatted Translation>