A Long Song of Huaishuo

The frozen lands of the northern frontier, Huai Shuo’s winds and frost.

The sky is a canopy, covering the wilderness below.

The Chile River, beneath the Yin Mountains.

The sky stretches blue; the fields, vast and boundless.

My name is Gao Huan. I won the favor of Lou Zhaojun, though I was born a lowly border garrison soldier.

I saw the rot in Luoyang, joined with heroes of the steppe, and gathered the bold and the brave of the Six Garrisons.

When chaos swept across the land, I would take command of all the mountains and rivers of the north.