The horn sounds,
Echoed back on howling wind,
Faint resounds.

General,
Hunts near Wei in withered grass,
Falcon eyes,
And strung bow,
Light the beats of horses pass,
Across snow.

Passed Xinfeng
Tracking where no one has Been,
to Xiliu camp.

Backward glance
To where they had piled the game,
His hunting.
In pausing,
The clouds remained still and same,
Thousand li.