Chang'an falls into enemy hands, human affairs is not completely, onetime capital still is put, already was full city however desolate, the step that a few smoke from kitchen chimneys are stepping wind slowly a tower over a city gate of engrave vicissitudes of life. Only hill or that hill, the river still is that river. Spring in March, luxuriant fragrant grass had overflowed very few barren city, attack by surprise did not have the clop that disappears already and report of a gun, those who left melancholy is deep green, await a parting arrival.
长安沦陷，人事全非，故都犹存，却已是满城荒凉，几缕炊烟踏着风的台阶缓缓刻上沧桑的城楼。惟有山还是那座山，河还是那条河。阳春三月，萋萋芳草漫过了寥寥的荒城，掩没了早已消失的马蹄声和枪声，留下了忧郁的深绿，待一场离别的到来。
After a coolish new rain, flower is leaving still, each valve, it is to heave a sigh deeply, seem to know oneself will be twisted by years one is remembered eventually, a few dark sweet between the heart that gets a poet lingeringly, companion is worn universal bird flies hurriedly Guo Ming cry, carry the eye looks, look for the trace that is less than wing, leave a composition only a few feather, waving silently, be like is what thing did not happen, let a person associate to the enemy's cruel oppression of the people again however, had stepped native land heavily, the length of steed cries according to in the resound between the heart.
一场微凉的新雨后，花儿兀自地开着，每一瓣，都是深深地叹息，好像知道自己终将被岁月捻成一抹记忆，几缕暗香袅袅地钻入诗人的心间，伴着天外鸟儿匆匆飞过鸣叫声，抬眼望去，找不到翅膀的痕迹，只留下作文几片羽毛，静静地飘着，似是什么事都没发生，却又让人联想到敌人的铁蹄，重重地踏过故土，战马的长鸣依间在心间回荡。
Sell smoke to diffuse, flames of war is perpetual, of distance epistolary did not come tardy, the women in the home await expeditionary husband hard, the edge outside hoping to wear that bavin door closes, hope somebody buckles Men Fei gently, transmit triumphal good news, although be one communicates nostalgic brief letter only, also touch at the moment on 10 thousand gold.
销烟弥漫，烽火不断，远方的书信迟迟未来，家中的妇女们苦苦等待远征的丈夫，望穿那柴门外的边关，希望有人轻扣门扉，传来胜利的喜讯，即使只是一封传达乡愁的简信，此刻也抵得上万金。
At this moment, gloomy emerge mind, the poet cannot help scratching white hair with the hand, it is decayed and few and far between however, hesitate secretly, was obliged to sigh, the bingle of this decadent, be afraid of is to be not inserted already go up hairpin.
这时，愁闷一下涌上心头，诗人忍不住用手搔着白发，却是零落稀疏，暗自踌躇，只得叹了口气，这颓败的短发，怕是早已插不上簪了吧。