In the dog days, polo is played, tempering the fierce heat;
The sweating steeds labor hard, their jade trappings clatter.
No thought is given to battered forms or injured eyes;
Bare-headed, grimy-faced, they wear leather boots.
The riders, swift and numerous, range from fair to poor;
The noble scion, on his finest steed, with golden saddle.
Agile as a bouncing ball rising to the azure sky;
Falling like a shooting star into the plain waves.
Clearly vying for victory, each gallops and pursues;
Like thunder racing, lightning flashing, shoulders rub.
In all the world, there surely exists the utmost joy;
But know that no joy surpasses this.
Sometimes the contest long remains undecided;
Thirst and hunger grow as the day suddenly wanes.
Win or lose, what is there to strive for?
Kneeling, they present wine, arrayed side by side.
Drums beat, flutes play, they sing and dance;
Spectators crowd like walls, ringed by fair maidens.
High and low, all disregard rank and courtesy;
For a moment's pleasure, who cares for aught else?
Jingyun's nobles were especially fond of this;
Zhenyuan's military governors also shared the craze.
Liu Zongyuan and Han Yu still offered admonitions;
How much more should those of high fame sheathe their arms?
Do not say that gains come only from horseback;
Days of continuous practice may cause much harm.
The writings of Han and Liu warn against galloping;
I wish them placed at hand for daily recitation.
Apply your mind to classics and history, cultivate lasting deeds;
With black hair serve at feasts, your face flushed with wine.