yǐn mǎ dù qiū shuǐ,
shuǐ hán fēng sì dāo。
píng shā rì wèi méi,
àn '
àn jiàn lín táo。
xī rì cháng chéng zhàn,
xián yán yì qì gāo。
huáng chén zú jīn gǔ,
bái gǔ luàn péng hāo。
Drink, my horse, while we cross the autumn water!-
The stream is cold and the wind like a sword,
As we watch against the sunset on the sandy plain,
Far, far away, shadowy Lingtao.
Old battles, waged by those long walls,
Once were proud on all men's tongues.
But antiquity now is a yellow dust,
Confusing in the grasses its ruins and white bones.