LOUSHAN PASS-
to the tune of Yi Qin E
(February 1935)
Fierce the west wind.
Wild geese cry under the fresty morning moon.
Under the frosty morning moon,
Horses' hooves clatt bring,
Bugles sobbing low.
Idle boast the strong pass is a wall of iron,
With firm strides we are crossing its summit.
We are crossing its summit.
The rolling hills sea-blue.
The dying sun blood-red.
    
                         Mao