TUNE: SILK-WASHING STREAM

浣溪沙

On frosty day the sky seems steeped in water clear;

霜日明霄水醮空，

The brandished whip amid red banners whistles, hear!

鸣鞘声里绣旗红。

The mist-veiled withered grass appears and disappears.

淡烟衰草有无中。

The Central Plain for miles burns with the beacon fire;

万里中原烽火北，

East of the watch tower I drink a cup of wine dire.

一尊浊酒戍楼东。

Drunken against the grievous wind, I shed sad tears.

酒阑挥泪向悲风。