Classic Poem

Left hand leading a yellow hound,
In the right a gray falcon,
I feel rejuvenated with the vigor of youth.
Cavalrymen in sable coats and helmets of brocade
Cross the thousand-tricent level ridge in one powerful sweep.
Let the whole town turn out at the prefect's clarion call,
To watch him shoot the tiger at bay,
Emulate the prowess of King Sun of Wu!

Now I have drunk my fill,
My spirits rise to their highest:
What though my temples are streaked with gray?
When will be dispatched here
An envoy with the imperial tally?
I am all impatience to bend my bow like a full moon,
And, aiming northwest, shoot down the Wolf
Running riot in the sky!