兵车行-A Song of the Conscripts’ Chariots
兵车行
杜甫
车辚辚，马萧萧，行人弓箭各在腰。
耶娘妻子走相送，尘埃不见咸阳桥。
牵衣顿足拦道哭，哭声直上干云霄。
道傍过者问行人，行人但云点行频。
或从十五北防河，便至四十西营田；
去时里正与裹头，归来头白还戌边。
边庭流血成海水，武皇开边意未已。
君不闻汉家山东二百州，千村万落生荆杞。
纵有健妇把锄犁，禾生陇亩无东西。
况复秦兵耐苦战，被驱不异犬与鸡。
长者虽有问，役夫敢伸恨？
且如今年冬，未休关西卒。
县官急索租，租税从何出？
信知生男恶，反是生女好。
生女犹得嫁比邻，生男埋没随百草！
君不见青海头，古来白骨无人收。
新鬼烦冤旧鬼哭，天阴雨湿声啾啾。
A Song of the Conscripts’ Chariots
Du Fu
The chariots are rattling； the horses are neighing；
The bows and arrows are round the men’s waists swaying.
The men’s parents and wives come to bid them farewell.
Where lies the dust-covered Xianyang Bridge none can tell.
They hold the men’s clothes， stamp feet， block the way and cry.
Their crying noise goes up， reaching the very sky.
A passer-by asks the men what is all this ’bout.
They say it is because they are often called out.
One was sent north at fifteen to guard the River
Till forty， then sent west as an army farmer.
When he left home， his head was dressed by a lane cadre.
Returned， he， white-headed， had to defend the border.
The border area has shed blood like sea water；
Emperor Wu’s will to expand the land doesn’t waver.
Just see the Han’s two hundred prefectures east of the Mountain.
There’re brambles in thousands of villages waste from famine.
Though there are stout women to handle ploughs and hoes，
In the wild fields standing grain in disorder grows.
As the Qin soldiers hard war life can quite well bear，
They’re driven like dogs and chickens to the frontier.
You， an elder， want some information to get；
Dare I， enlisted， have anything to regret？
Take this winter for an example to look on：
Though Guanxi area soldiers are not yet withdrawn，
The officials are hard on us for tax and rent，
Which， of course， most of the families can’t have sent.
Indeed， it is not a good thing to beget males，
While it is nothing so bad to beget females.
Daughters may be to their neighbourhood mates married，
While sons are likely among sundry weeds buried.
Just have a look at the source of the Green Sea， where
Human bones can be seen in all parts lying bare.
New ghosts complain of their wrongs and old ghosts weep；
In gloomy， rainy days their sobs make one’s flesh creep.
