The First Song
When I was little, my homeland was fine,
Yet not long Han’s Mandate was in decline.
Ruthless heavens tossed her into chaos;
Merciless earth cast her into a burning mine.
Tatars’ spears clashed with Han’s swords here and there,
Refugees took flight onto roads everywhere.
Those who were captured lost their chastities.
Dust choked the wildness; smoke darkened the air.
The barbaric customs molested me,
Oh who could be my justice, who could be?
I played Hujia a bit, then Qin a whit,
Oh my inly burning ire who could see?
Tr. Xiao Cao