I recall the last years of Xuanhe, when hordes of villains gathered in Weiqiang.
One day the patrol inspectors came, and every prefecture and county was in panic.
The residents abandoned their homes and fled, the young and old in chaotic scramble.
I was then driven by the raid, and could only gaze at you from afar.
When the Jianyan era began, rebel soldiers rose in Qiantang.
At first we heard they killed the high officials, soon they also came for the gentry.
The dead were no longer a wonder, but the living were utterly changed.
You were trapped within the bandits' siege, I knew not if you lived or died.
Though our paths lay in different lands, we both tasted peril and dread.
Flesh and blood are not without love, yet each must face their own hardship.
Looking back on the day we met the foe, who could have thought we'd escape unharmed?
How could we know, leaving the deep fortress, we'd still return to our native home?
We vie to tell our tales of survival, our choked voices startling all around.
This remnant life is gained by chance, all worldly matters can be forgotten.
Meeting as I try the new-brewed ale, we sit in the main hall with hearts unbound.
The courtyard phoenix trees gleam with dew, the chrysanthemums by the steps are urged by wind to yellow.
The year's intent is not yet late, but crickets already draw near the bed.
Facing this, what more can we await? From five cups we go to ten.
Our songs choke in the cold moon, our dancing sleeves break the night frost.
Is there no youthful spirit left? One drunken bout makes us so wild.
This is but the wine's command, how can the wine's power last long?
The lamplight shines on our hair and temples, a hundred worries knot within our guts.
Weapons of war have not yet ceased, the bandits' force grows ever stronger.
Where shall you and I return to? Gazing at each other, vast and blank.