Classic Poem

Yellow sand, white reeds
stretch far, so sad and sere;
at Kokonor and Silver Province
there spreads a killer air!
These frontier passes, it is true,
once knew Ch'in months and days,
but the Nimble General of Han
was the greatest who fought here.
Travelers who come and go
lead horses to drinking holes;
all who journey through this place
have arrows at their waists.
Morning—we set out from Magic Province
and gaze still farther west:
what we thought were Ho-lan's thousand peaks
are only clouds and vapors.