On the Frontier (to the tune of Yu Jia Ao)

by Fan Zhongyan (989 - 1052)

What a peculiar sight on the frontier in autumn!

The wild geese have resolutely deserted for the south,

Leaving only frontier noises to grate the ears on all

sides.

Deep in the mountains is an isolated little town,

With its gates shut in the misty twilight.

A cup of turbid wine takes my soul,

Thousands of miles to my home,

Where I'm not to go without scoring a decisive victory.

Across the vast expanse of frozen ground,

Comes an exotic melody on flute,

That keeps everybody awake:

The general with his hair turning white,

The warriors with uncontrollable tears.