English Rendering
The King of Qin rode the tiger to eight Poles high:
His sword shone in the air and brightened the blue sky.
His driver struck the sun with a glass-breaking sound;
All were reduced to ashes on the battleground.
Stars were invited to drink wine poured from dragon's head;
The golden pipa played at night would grieve the dead.
The rain treading on Dongting Lake would blow the lute;
The King ordered the moon to go back to its root.
Silver cloud on cloud made the crystal palace bright;
The gate-keeper announced it was still early night.
The phoenix in the tower sang her bewitching song;
Clear fragrance of ladies' silken dress wafted long.
The dancers drank to his health of a thousand years.
From the candles on the fairy trees rose smoke light.
From the lutist's drunken eyes streamed down copious tears.
