Classic Poem

Evening, I found lodging at Shihao
That night a pressgang came for men
An old man jumped the wall,
While his wife went through the gate to meet them
The officer cursed, so full of anger
The old woman cried, so bitter.
Then I heard her approach him and speak:
“Our three sons went off in defense of Yecheng.
Now one has sent a letter home,
To tell us that the other two are slain.
He who remains yet clings to life.
They who have gone are dead forever
At home here there is no one else
But a grandson at the breast,
And his mother, not yet able to leave him
And anyway, she's not a whole skirt to put on
This old one, though her strength is ebbing,
Begs you, sir, to let her come tonight,
To answer the draft for Heyang.
I might still help to cook the morning meal.”
Night lengthened, the voices died away,
Dwindling to a sound like stifled sobs
The sky brightened, I climbed back toward the path,
Alone, the old man made farewells.