今古山河无定据，
画角声中，
牧马频来去。 满目荒凉谁可语？ 西风吹老丹枫树。 从前幽怨应无数。
铁马金戈， 青冢黄昏路。 一往情深深几许？ 深山夕照深秋雨。 Die Lian Hua
Nalan Xing De From of old to the present
There are no certain boundaries: Amid the sound of painted bugles, The nomads' horses swept back and forth. A wasteland as far as the eye can see — Who can you talk to? The west wind has aged the maple tree. Cases of past suffering would be numerous: Metal spears and iron horses; New graves by dusky roads. Loving-feelings running deep — how deep do they go? Like the evening glow, deep in the mountains — And like late, late autumn rain. |
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