<Header>
<Author: 李白>
<Title: 橫吹曲辭 關山月>
<Format: 格式不明>
<Year: 1947>
<BookName: THE WHITE PONY: An Anthology of Chinese Poetry from the Earliest Times to the Present Day, Newly Translated>
<Translator: Robert Payne>
<TranslatedTitle: THE MOON OVER THE MOUNTAIN PASS>
<BookPage: 167>
<UsedPage: 1>
<Feature: 3>
<End Header>
<Poem>
明月出天山，
蒼茫雲海間。
長風幾萬里，
吹度玉門關。
漢下白登道，
胡窺青海灣。
由來征戰地，
不見有人還。
戍客望邊色，
思歸多苦顏。
高樓當此夜，
歎息未應閑。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
The bright moon soars over the Mountain of Heaven,
Gliding over an ocean of clouds.
A shrill wind screaming ten thousand li away,
And a sound of whistling from Yu-men pass.
The imperial army marches down White Mound Road.
The Tartars search the bays of the Blue Sea.
The warriors look back to their distant homes:
Never yet has one been seen to return.
Tonight, on the high towers she is waiting.
There is only sorrow and unending grieving.
<End Translation>
<Formatted Translation>
The bright moon soars over the Mountain of Heaven,
Gliding over an ocean of clouds.
A shrill wind screaming ten thousand Ii away,
And a sound of whistling from Yu-men pass.
The imperial army marches down White Mound Road.
The Tartars search the bays of the Blue Sea.
The warriors look back to their distant homes:
Never yet has one been seen to return.
0
0
Tonight, on the high towers she si waiting.
There is only sorrow and unending grieving.
<End Formatted Translation>