Song of the Northern Frontier (Gao Shi: Song of the Northern Frontier, with Preface)

In the twenty-sixth year of the Kaiyuan era, a guest who had followed the Grand Censor-in-Chief, Lord Zhang (alternatively known as “the Supreme Commander”), on a campaign beyond the frontier and had since returned, showed me a poem titled “Song of the Yan Frontier.” Moved by the hardships of military expeditions and garrison duty, I composed this poem in response.

The smoke of Han border wars rose in the northeast (or “northwest” in some versions); Han generals left their homes to destroy the fierce foe. Truly should a man gallop freely across the land; the Son of Heaven granted him special favor and honor. Striking gongs and beating war drums, the army marched toward Yuguan Pass, with banners winding endlessly among Jieshi Mountain. The colonel’s urgent dispatches flew swiftly across the vast desert; the Chanyu’s hunting fires blazed on Wolf Mountain.

The desolate mountains stretched bleakly to the frontier’s end; Hu cavalry swept in like a storm, bearing wind and rain. On the battlefield, soldiers faced life or death unknown, while in the general’s tent, beauties sang and danced. In deep autumn, the desert frontier grass withered; beneath the setting sun at the lonely city, fighting men grew scarce. Receiving imperial favor, they often scorned the enemy, yet even with strength exhausted, they could not lift the siege of the mountain passes.

Armored in iron, they toiled long on distant campaigns; their wives, they imagined, wept endlessly, tears like pillars of rain. The young wife south of the city was heartbroken; the soldier north of Jibei turned his head in vain longing. Amid drifting border winds, how could one cross over? In the vast, desolate far-off lands, what else remained? All day (or “all season”), the murderous air congealed into battle clouds; through the cold night (or “cold wind”), the watchman’s clappers sounded unceasing. They looked at each other—white blades stained with blood (or “snowflakes,” or “pure white”) scattered everywhere; those who died for honor and integrity never cared for merit. Do you not see the bitter suffering on the battlefield? To this day, people still long for General Li.