ABSTRACT
At age eighty-two in 1663, one year before his death, Qian Qianyi wrote with abandon and anguish:
漫漫長夜獨悲歌 I sing my sad tunes into the endless night, all alone, 孤憤填胸肯自磨 Filled with grief and indignation1 that I bring to my
own torment. 敵對災星憑酒伯 To contend with the star of calamity, one can only
count on Uncle Wine; 破除愁壘仗詩魔 To bring down the fort of sadness, one turns to the
Poetry Demon. 逢人每道君休矣 Whoever runs into me will say, “Sir, you are through!” 顧影還呼汝謂何 I eye my shadow, yelling, “What say you?” 欲共老漁開口笑 How I wish I could laugh heartily with the old
fisherman, 商量何處水天多 Whom I will ask, “Where can I find a place bountiful
in water and sky?”
