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Poetry
Hearing a Flute by Night on the Shouxiang Wall
Before Huile Peak the sand is like snow; beyond the Shouxiang wall the moon is like frost. No one knows where a reed pipe is being blown— all night the campaigning men gaze toward home.
夜上受降城闻笛
Poetry
Out Beyond the Passes
The bright moon of Qin, the frontier pass of Han; from the march of ten thousand li the men have not returned. If only the Flying General of Longcheng were here, he would not let the Hu horses cross the Yin Mountains.
出塞