In youth, I sought a gallant spirit, sparing no gold.
To learn the sword, west to Qin I went; to make friends, north to Wei I strolled.
In Qin and Wei, eccentric souls abound, and friendships formed were rare and profound.
Though strangers we were from the start, in secret kinship we took part.
A steed with golden reins, a coat of fox and sable fur.
At dawn with Ji Meng I'd roam; by dusk in Xianyang I'd confer.
My word was known throughout the land, by lords and princes understood.
Still pondering a hundred stratagems, I followed General Li as I could.
Setting out from Baling's foot, across the northern wilds I'd fare.
The north wind carried Chu's old songs; the southern court saw Tartar steeds there.
The Tartar steeds, in autumn sleek, at night in tight encirclement we'd meet.
Battle raged till beacons died; the road was cut, relief retreat.
White blades pressed in crisscross strife; at dusk, the fight knew no surcease.
The foe's blood stained our garments red; the Khan's tears soaked his breast with grief.
In Cloud Terrace, victory proclaimed, I boasted of frontier might.
But the general failed his charge, and all our troops lost glory's light.
New men prove worse than the old; the old lend no helping hand.
Drifting ten thousand miles, a decade's plans turned to sand.
Cast aside, hard to discuss; I ride my horse through Hongmen's gate.
Watching the Chu-Han strife unfold, I'm lost in dust and war's dark fate.
At midnight, stroking my treasured sword, a mournful song I dance alone.
This tune cannot find its end; when it ends, tears fall like rain, unknown.