调角断清秋,征人倚戌楼。
春风对青冢,白日落梁州。
大漠无兵阻,穷边有客游。
蕃情似此水,长愿向南流。
Though a bugle breaks the crystal air of autumn,
Soldiers, in the look-out, watch at ease today
The spring wind blowing across green graves
And the pale sun setting beyond Liangzhou.
For now, on grey plains done with war,
The border is open to travel again;
And Tartars can no more choose than rivers:
They are running, all of them, toward the south.