黄河远上白云间，一片孤城万仞山。
羌笛何须怨杨柳，春风不度玉门关。
Gradually into the clouds runs the Yellow River.
Thousands of miles up in a mountain stands a small town.
About the lifeless willows complains the Qiang flute,
Not knowing the Gate of Jade is too remote for Spring to reach.