Over Zhong Mountain swept a storm, headlong,
Our mighty army, a million strong, has crossed the Great River.
The city, a tiger crouching, a dragon curling,
outshining its ancient glory;
In heroic triumph heaven and earth have been overturned.
With power and to spare we must pursue the tottering foe
And not ape Xiang Yu the conqueror seeking idle fame.
Were Nature sentient, she too would pass from youth to age,