An Ancient Ballad of Joining the Army
Li Qi
白日登山望烽火，黄昏饮马傍交河。
行人刁斗风沙暗，公主琵琶幽怨多。
野云万里无城郭，雨雪纷纷连大漠。
胡雁哀鸣夜夜飞，胡儿眼泪双双落。
闻道玉门犹被遮，应将性命逐轻车。
年年战骨埋荒外，空见蒲桃入汉家。
During the day, soldiers climb the mountain to observe the beacon tower.
At dusk, they lead horses to the Jiaohe River for water.
In the gloomy sand storm, only the chime of the bronze bells can be heard,
And the bitter music of the lute, as if played by the Han princess forced to marry the Huns.
Under the wild clouds that stretch for tens of thousands of li, there’s no trace of a township;
Heavy snowfall shrouds the vast desert.
Wild geese glide through the night sky crying;
Bringing tears to even the barbarians.
They say there’s no retreat as the Jade Pass is still tightly shut;
One has no choice but to follow the general’s chariot onto the battle field.
Year after year, fallen soldiers are buried in the wilderness,
Just so that grapes from the west can be sent to the Han court.
In the period of relative peace during the Tang dynasty (618 – 907 CE) the poet Li Qi wrote this peace about the Han dynasty which ran from 206 BCE to 220 CE. Although it was an intentionally thinly veiled criticism of his current period, where there continued to be expansion and lighter conflict.
Every day I select a war poem, and respond to it, generally in poetic form. But perhaps not. Each poem grabs at something a little differently. Sometimes the themes blend together, sometimes they contradict. Many poets, were veterans themselves, others not. Their perspectives vary, and the poetry does in response. I’ll continue to do this as long as I keep finding poetry that explores novel or meaningful themes. You know, until the well runs dry.
Home
The old man passes, a sack on his back
Walking home, for dinner with his wife
Henna painted boys, chitter and jab
Running free through the bazaar
The songbird twitters, lover’s call
Nest building, preparation for spring
Our armor is heavy, salted with sweat
Lumbering toward post, four more hours
Winter’s thaw raises river waters
Father and son, an afternoon fishing
Mission briefing only seven clicks, milk run
Light ambush, twelve clicks, return to base
Photos from home, camping in the mountains
Wish you were here, distant smiles, captured
The ‘terp said it was too dangerous, resigned
Caught a ride to Kabul, heading home now
Even the dogs run free, through fresh stalks
Corn planted in rows, to grow tall for harvest
We can go home, later, after fighting through
After the threshed corn dries, on rooftops
Photo by Adrian “Rosco” Stef on Unsplash
