Forests blaze red beneath the frosty sky,
The wrath of Heaven's armies soars to the clouds.
Mist veils Longgang, its thousands peaks blurred.
All cry out in unison:
Our van has taken Zhang Huizan!
The enemy returns to Jiangxi two hundred thousand strong,
Fumes billowing in the wind in mid-sky.
Workers and peasants are wakened in their millions
To fight as one man,
Under the riot of red flags round the foot of Buzhou Mountain!
Wide, wide flow the nine streams through the land,
Dark, dark threads the line from south to north.
Blurred in the thick haze of the misty rain
Tortoise and Snake hold the great river locked.
The yellow crane is gone, who knows whither?
Only this tower remains a haunt for visitors.
I pledge my wine to the surging torrent,
The tide of my heart swells with the waves.
Like a dim dream recalled, I curse the long-fled past —
My native soil two and thirty years gone by.
The red flag rouse the serf, halberd in hand,
While the despot's black talons held his whip aloft.
Bitter sacrifice strengthens bold resolve
Which dares to make sun and moon shine in new skies.
Happy, I see wave upon wave of paddy and beans,
And all around heroes home-bound in the evening mist.
The very clouds foams atop White Cloud Mountain,
At its base the roar of battle quicken.
Withered trees and rotten stumps join in the fray.
A forest of rifles presses,
As the flying General descends from the skies.
In fifteen days we have marched seven hundred li
Cross misty Gan waters and green Fujian hills,
Rolling back the enemy as we would a mat.
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