Red blooms, green dampness, in Pingyang's domain,
Carriages rumble, rolling along the flowing stream.
Who is the one with grey-haired riders in his train?
A hastily settled household, a parasitic dream.
The sovereign, martial and wise, values frontier might,
Not fond of lavish blooms that outshine peach and plum.
From azure phoenix-carriage, she alights in cloud's light,
Her robes and cap and shoes in disarray become.
Before rewards for deeds are done, peace-marriage is planned,
Again, the moth-eyebrowed beauty falls into dream's land.
The minister reviews spring in thirty-six palace halls,
Sending her forth to please the barbarian lords' calls.
Northern winds blow snow, Tartar steeds neigh and race,
Returning from the hunt, moon pales o'er Dragon Town's west space.
Heavy felt tents arch and press on star-adorned canopy,
Wine vessels swirl, quick stir the golden ladle, wild and free.
She finely tunes the strings to play a tune for her lord,
Her hands not yet refusing, but her brows in sorrow stored.
Deep woods, still silence, a lone woodpecker's tap,
Spring ends, trees darken, a pair of orioles in the gap.
The elder princess plays the plum-blossom tune, old and slow,
The younger princess dances, willow catkins' dizzy flow.
The chieftain, stumbling, rises to propose a toast,
They face each other, radiant, in drunken revel lost.
Su Wu at sea also knew bitter plight,
His sheep bore no milk, yet his child was fed.
Believe that under heaven, this feeling shares the same light,
Who says a Ji or Jiang must come from Qi or Lu's stead?
I myself am not a Han palace maid of high degree,
To marry down, yet become a Chanyu's wife, is my lot.
Since barbarian and Han are brothers, as we see,
To gain such a husband—is he worse than a household slave? Not.
Have you not seen the tomb shaped like Mount Lu, beyond compare?
The Green Mound's name will pass on for a million years with care.