古意

李颀

 

男儿事长征， 少小幽燕客。

赌胜马蹄下， 由来轻七尺。

杀人莫敢前， 须如蝟毛磔。

黄云陇底白雪飞， 未得报恩不能归。

辽东小妇年十五， 惯弹琵琶解歌舞。

今为羌笛出塞声， 使我三军泪如雨。

　

AN OLD AIR

Li Qi

 

There once was a man, sent on military missions,

A wanderer, from youth, on the You and Yan frontiers.

Under the horses' hoofs he would meet his foes

And, recklessly risking his seven-foot body,

Would slay whoever dared confront

Those moustaches that bristled like porcupinequills.

...There were dark clouds below the hills, there were white clouds above them,

But before a man has served full time, how can he go back?

In eastern Liao a girl was waiting, a girl of fifteen years,

Deft with a guitar, expert in dance and song.

...She seems to be fluting, even now, a reed-song of home,

Filling every soldier's eyes with homesick tears.