Drunk, I'd keep a lamp lit to find my sword,
 The blare of horns sounded throughout the camp.
 Soldiers ate meat under waving banners;
 The military band played boisterous tunes.
 Autumn brought our troops to the battlefield.

Carried by a charger at full gallop,
 My bow thwipped, sending swift arrows flying.
 We restored Imperial lands, boldly,
 And won great fame for fighting gallantly,
 But fame grows thin and gray just like my hair.