Fine wine in a luminous cup,
Before drinking, I hear the lute played on horseback.
Please do not laugh at me, though I am lying drunk on the desert,
For how many has returned from war since the ancient times?
Flowers are blooming and birds are singing in my hometown maybe,
The wind and the sands are still cold here in the frontier.
Whoever hears the grass-flutes playing farewell tunes at night,
Cannot help remenbering home.
*This was composed imagining soldiers\' feelings who defend the border. And it is what I translated Chinese old poems with collaborators, deforming a little.
