English Rendering
After rebellion my hometown looks lonely;
Only brambles run riot in courtyard and lane.
A hundred households lived here together;
In war they’re scattered east and west like rain.
The living have gone without leaving traces;
The dead are turned to dust, mixed with mud in vain.
A straggler from a beaten army, I come back,
Groping for the road where I used to go.
I trudge long to find but a deserted town,
I see the sun looks sad, feeling dreary and low.
I meet but foxes which bristle up in anger
And glare at me, barking in towering rage.
Of my neighbors on four sides one or two
Widows are left to live out their old age.
Even a bird loves the branch where it rests.
Poor as it is, I’ll not leave my old nest.
In spring I hoe alone the weed o’ergrown field;
At dusk I water garden without yield.
But county officers know I’ve come back;
They call me up and order me to drill.
Although I’m enlisted in my native state,
When I look back, I’ve no one to leave still.
To go not far, I’m but a lonely soul;
To go far away, I’ll lose all control.
Since my home is completely destroyed,
Far or near, what’s the difference to me?
My heart will ever ache for my sick mother
Who died five years ago in the trench unlucky.
She gave me birth, but I could do nothing for her;
We could only sigh all our life, she and me.
A man who has no home, where should he leave?
How can we live a life common people should live?
