#12
Thousands of miles of prairies are under the autumn sky,
This is the remnant of the field for the ancients to fight.
Looking ahead, bones tangled with weeds can be seen,
And dark forests and dead woods are in the scene.
It seems so desolate, as if the spirits filled hell,
If not come this far, you'd never known the good and evil.
Sorrows are everywhere and they hurt my painful heart,
What conjures up in my mind now is the dead afar.
Thinking of that, yonder, how many are holding grief,
bearing the pain until they die and still can't relieve?
Qin Shi Huang raised his sword toward the east,
But the troops of the nine alliances marched the west.
All the lords had fought endless for hundreds of years,
Driving the world to spin and the sun and moon have fears.
At last, Qin Shi Huang conquered the world,
Chopped all other civilizations into pieces with his sword.
Relying on the Mount Hua as the city wall,
and the bottomless deep moat to protect them all,
they had completed their great business----
calmed down the world, but hadn't changed their cruelties.
The regime was not stable, everything was changeable,
Thirty years of youth disappeared and not returnable.
Leaving only the loss and fears；soldiers guarding
the borders were dying, and their spirits toward west, flying.
After the King Zhao was captured, he left the vast territory
which had been guarded by his ancestors for almost a century.
Now he was riding the horse which was sadly wailing,
Followed by his men with tears, marching toward Fang Ling.
Whenever the sun set he recalled many things happened before,
But now all masonry and thrones in the palace were no more.
Recalling again and again, every time made him feel so hard,
Good bye luxury wagons and beautiful girls in his heart!
When he raised his cup, wanting to drown his sorrow,
All his sorrows and sadness poured out like waves and snow.
Alas! What a hateful thing: his ambition had been wasted,
and his young mind got old, leaving him feel frustrated!
A sad life he lived, although his fame was still there,
he held too much grudge that his fame could never compare.
Li Ling fought in deserts, marched to the north many miles,
but he still couldn't resist the cavalries of the barbarian tribes.
He bowed his head, his glory had become his infamy and shame,
All he had now was the bad memories and a bad name.
He pulled out his sword and hit the jade pole which was not real,
the unreal shadows, the ghost with grievance shivered in chill.
His heart was still with Han--staying in Yanmen, he had no choice.
How could the broken silk fabrics be used to express his voice?
"Let me go and die! In my next life I will pay back to you!"
Years later when the hazy sky was broken by the drops of dew.
His bad memories of life and death came back to him again,
if he could see his folks, what could he say beside the pain?
When Princess Ming was leaving, she heaved a sigh to the sky,
She sighed for her life, the cruelty she would face never be light.
The imperial wagons gradually disappeared in the hazy distance,
Thousands of miles away, how to fly back to see each other often?
In the long sky, when winds blew so high, the sun set to the horizon.
Geese in the Long areas flew south, leaving clouds alone.
At the moment, what could the Emperor back home think about?
The heavy sadness sent by the Barbarian Pipa was so loud!
Feng Yan was discharged from the army and went back home,
Ever since he refused to see any one, being so sad alone.
His wife and children remained all the same, nothing special,
But without a title, he was even belittled by a small official.
His big dream broke; he sighed in sorrow every day,
Talents were not used, his sad feelings could not go away.
Ji Kang drank alone at dusk, loneliness was his company,
He played the qin at dawn, he saw the sad autumn scenery.
As if in a trance, the Qinming sword rose high up into the air,
Reflecting the long dark night with its shine and flare.
The lonely old courtier once shed tears of regret and grievance,
His unfilial offspring would feel sad because of their ignorance.
The boundless waves might remind him of the life in exile.
The bad news hurt his heart which flew in winds for a long time,
Tears were hart to stop, and when they changed into blood,
How much bitterness could we taste when them came like flood?
We sought for the solemn tragedy of being defeated, but we failed,
We could not find the sadness by the yellowish dust trail.
Years had gone by, horseshoes had buried many a dynasty,
The wheel tracks turned into a silver river which was flowery.
Yellow smoke billowed; sad songs rose from souls' corner,
as time went by tears and blood disappeared in the desert.
Bones of the last horse whimpered into the cold spring,
Everything would be slowly going to reach an ending.
Seasons kept changing, time elapsed in winds and rain,
Grass kept growing, winds died down and picked up again.
Silk had lost their brilliance; red tiles had peeled off and
the harp strings broke; hills transformed into level lands.
Mountains and rivers remained unchanged;
Everyone must die, the natural rules never be changed!
But the country was no longer the same!
Seeing all these, who wouldn't sob for such a shame?
（The End）
Translator: Xiaoman （Xiaoman Style）
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