歌词
Han has a troubling and volatile frontier in the north-east,
Han's soldiers have to leave their home to battle a cruel and ferocious breed.
Young men on the battlefield are supposed to be driven by impulse with a vengeance,
This is extraordinarily well received by His Majesty.
They march to the rhythm of gongs and drums towards the Elm Gate,
In the Stony Mountains their banners and flags a long procession decorate.
From the colonel on the frontier come summons to arms over the sea of desert,
The Hun chieftain's army and beacon have arrived at Mount Wolverine and are in place.
At the frontier it is an endless stretch of deserted landscape,
The Hun cavalry charge down the hills like torrential windswept rain.
There perish half of the soldiers at the front fighting to their death,
Yet in the rare in the camp dancing to melodies are beautiful ladies!
Grasses over the border have shrivelled, ending the season of fall over the Great Desert,
In the fading sun, the solitary border town is scarce on soldiers and fighters.
Basked in royal grace they stoutly face the enemy regardless of their might,
Even though it is not enough to lift the siege, they have given every endeavour.
Far and away at the borders, soldiers donning armour garrison hard and long,
Back home tears begin to flow the morning their husbands are gone;
Gut-wrenched are young ladies south of the border town,
As soldiers dispatched to north of the Ji region in vain fond memory recall.
What is one to do with time in the unpredictable wilds over the border?
Unapproachable is the vast territory of oblivion.
Overcast with a combative air is the weather all day long,
The bronze bells could ring any minute in the cold of night calling to cross swords.
Visible everywhere is blood on swords and glaives,
If they are willing to fight to their end, how could it be for rewards and fame?
Do you not see how miserable a soldier's life is on the battlefield?
Long live the spirit of General Li of Han, who is held venerable by all to this day.
