<Header>
<Author: 高適>
<Title: 燕歌行>
<Format: 樂府詩>
<Year: 1940>
<BookName: Selection from the Three Hundred Poems of the Tang Dynasty>
<Translator: Soame Jenyns>
<TranslatedTitle: The Song of Yen>
<BookPage: 93-94>
<UsedPage: 2>
<Feature: 4, 5>
<End Header>
<Poem>
漢家煙塵在東北，
漢將辭家破殘賊。
男兒本自重橫行，
天子非常賜顏色。
摐金伐鼓下榆關，
旌斾逶迤碣石間。
校尉羽書飛瀚海，
單于獵火照狼山。
山川蕭條極邊土，
胡騎憑陵雜風雨。
戰士軍前半死生，
美人帳下猶歌舞。
大漠窮秋塞草腓，
孤城落日鬬兵稀。
身當恩遇恆輕敵，
力盡關山未解圍。
鐵衣遠戍辛勤久，
玉筯應啼別離後。
少婦城南欲斷腸，
征人薊北空回首。
邊庭飄颻那可度，
絕域蒼茫更何有。
殺氣三時作陣雲，
寒聲一夜傳刁斗。
相看白刃血紛紛，
死節從來豈顧勳。
君不見沙場征戰苦，
至今猶憶李將軍。
<End Poem>
<Translation>
IN the days of Han the Chinese go to the north-east amid smoke and dust,
The Han generals take leave of their families to break the foul robbers.
Young manhood has a natural spirit of adventure.
The Emperor sends them with his especial blessing.
They bang the metal and beat the drums as they go down to the EIm Tree pass.
Through the defiles of Chieh-shih wind the lines of waving flags,
The wardens of the frontier speed their feathered despatches over Han-hai,
While the hunting fires of the Tartar chieftains glare on the Lang range.
Hill and stream stretch away distant and bleak to the farthest horizon.
The cavalry of the barbarians come in an invading rush like wind and rain.
Only half our men survive the battle,
Yet in the tents the female camp followers still cheer the survivors with song and dance.
In the great desert at the end of autumn the grass withers on the frontier posts.
On the lonely city wall at the close of day the warriors are few,
But bodies that have received the Imperial blessing make light of the enemy,
Yet their strength is exhausted in the border forays and the siege is not yet raised.
(They have been) day in day out in their armour; for this distant campaign speaks bitter toil and their labours are long.
Their tears fall in sympathy with the wailing of those they have left behind,
The hearts of the young wives south of the wall are filled with misgiving;
Their warriors on the northern borders look back towards home in vain.
The wind from the border blows ceaselessly; how can they cross it?
In the uttermost limits of the borderlands are vast misty distances. What more is there?
Morning, noon and night in this land of death the clouds of battle rise,
Throughout the chilly night the gongs sound and dippers boom.
Each sees the other's naked blades bespattered with blood.
These men have looked death in the face not troubled to think of fame.
Do you not see the sandy wastes and the battles and bitterness of the struggle.
To this day you remember the great General Li.
<End Translation>