五月天山雪,无花只有寒。
笛中闻折柳,春色未曾看。
晓战随金鼓,宵眠抱玉鞍。
愿将腰下剑,直为斩楼兰。
In summer sky-high mountains white with snow,
In bitter cold no fragrant flowers blow.
Songs on the flute are heard of Willows Green,
But nowhere is the vernal colour seen.
From dawn till dusk to beats of drum they fight;
With saddle in their arms they rest at night.
From scabbard at my waist I'd draw my sword
To kill the chieftain of the Turki horde.
By Li Bai (Li Po)
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