<Header>
<Author: 王維>
<Title: 老將行>
<Format: 七言古詩>
<Year: 1940>
<BookName: Selection from the Three Hundred Poems of the Tang Dynasty>
<Translator: Soame Jenyns>
<TranslatedTitle: The Old General’s Song>
<BookPage: 91-93>
<UsedPage: 3>
<Feature: 4>
<End Header>
<Poem>
少年十五二十時，
步行奪得胡馬射。
射殺中山白額虎，
肯數鄴下黃鬚兒。
一身轉戰三千里，
一劒曾當百萬師。
漢兵奮迅如霹靂，
虜騎崩騰畏蒺藜。
衞青不敗由天幸，
李廣無功緣數奇。
自從棄置便衰朽，
世事磋跎成白首。
昔時飛箭無全目，
今日垂楊生左肘。
路傍時賣故侯瓜，
門前學種先生柳。
蒼茫古木連窮巷，
寥落寒山對虛牖。
誓令疏勒出飛泉，
不似潁川空使酒。
賀蘭山下陣如雲，
羽檄交馳日夕聞。
節使三河募年少，
詔書五道出將軍。
試拂鐵衣如雪色，
聊持寶劒動星文。
願得燕弓射天將，
恥令越甲鳴吳軍。
莫嫌舊日雲中守，
猶堪一戰取功勳。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
WHEN he was fifteen or twenty years old
He went on foot to snatch a Tartar’s horse and rode it away,
And in the mountains he had killed with an arrow a tiger with a white forehead.
Fairly numerous at Yen were the yellow-whiskered gentlemen he slew.
Single-handed he could turn the battle for 3,000 miles;
With his own sword alone he could oppose a million men.
His Chinese troops were impetuous and swift as thunder and lightning;
The dashing and prancing Tartar horsemen fear the iron in their pitfalls.
Wei Ch‘ing was never beaten; that was his good fortune:
Li Kuang had no success; that was his misfortune.
Since our hero retired from office he has become an old man,
He has lost his grip on worldly matters and he is now white-headed.
Of old times his flying arrow never missed both eyes.
To-day his left elbow is as knotted as the weeping willow;
Now at the roadside he sells ripe marquis melons.
He has learnt how to plant his five willows;
Ancient trees link the dense green foliage along the obscure lane in which he lives.
Bleak winter hills lie opposite his empty window,
But if he prayed, at his prayer the waters of Su lê would gush forth
Not like the man of Yung Chüan who let himself go in his cups.
Beneath the Ho Lan Mountain the war clouds are lowering;
Day and night feather despatches are swiftly exchanged.
The Commissioners of the Three River Provinces enlist the young men.
Five times is the Imperial order sent to call the old general (from his retirement):
He rubs and brushes his armour till it shines like snow;
Clutching his precious sword he brandishes it like a flashing star.
He would he had the bows of Yen to shoot the barbarian general.
Ashamed to allow the clash of armies to come to the ears of the Emperor,
Do not look down on him as one time prefect in Yüan Ching,
For he is still able to fight one more battle to keep his laurels green.
<End Translation>