English Rendering
The crescent moon rises and hangs on city wall;
The rising moon on city wall shines over all.
There're a thousand homes in seven districts on frontier;
Half of the Tartars play pipa for us to hear.
The heart would be broken to hear the pipa song,
When the wind sheds leaves in showers and night is long.
West of the River I have so many compeers;
Many friends are separated from me for many years.
Before the flowery gate we see autumn grass.
Could we bear to see friends grow old like it? Alas!
How many times can we laugh in a life so fleet?
So let us drink our fill till drunken, now we meet!
