Cen Shen (Tang Dynasty)
The north wind rolls the earth and breaks the grass; in August, snow flies o'er the Tartar pass.
As if a spring breeze comes overnight, and pear blossoms bloom in thousands white.
They enter silken curtains damp and cold; fur coats can't warm, thin quilts grow old.
The general's horn bow cannot be drawn; the governor's iron armor's hard to put on.
A hundred fathoms ice on desert wide; sad clouds dimly stretch for miles and hide.
In camp we wine our guest to say goodbye; with pipa, erhu, and flute we try.
At dusk snow falls thick round the camp gate; the red flag stiff with cold won't undulate.
At Luntai east gate I see you go, the road to Tianshan is all snow.
The mountain turns, you disappear from sight, on snow your horses' hoofprints still are bright.
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