Drunken,I lit my lamp to see my glaive:
Awake,I heard the horns from tents to tents
Under the flags,beef grilled
Was eaten by our warriors brave
And martial airs were played by fifty instruments
'Twas an autumn manoeuvre in the field.
On gallant steed
Running full speed,
We'd shoot with twanging bows.
Recovering the lost land for the sovereign,
'Tis everlasting fame that we would win.
But alas!white hair grows!
醉里挑灯看剑，梦回吹角连营。
八百里分麾下炙，五十弦翻塞外声，沙场秋点兵。
马作的卢飞快，弓如霹雳弦惊。
了却君王天下事，赢得生前身后名。
可怜白发生！
In this lyric written for his friend Chen Liang who visited him in 1143,the poet recollected their life in the anti-Jurchen army,encouraged his younger friend to fight against the foe and regretted that he himself was growing old.
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