Signature: Signed, dated, no artist's seals
Usually when I go to the city, I'm bored
by the long trip,
Sitting all alone in my little boat.
But now you are here to share wine with
me and talk,
And I feel happy enough to play the
White water chestnuts are blooming in
Maple leaves when red then slowly fade.
Shining, a look at the pagoda tells it
already upon us,
And spurs the oarsman to row us in on the
tide of the stream.
Hanwen hadn't visited me for a long time. Finally on the 16th of the 18th month, we were able to get together. At the time I was in my boat packing up and the atmosphere of going was all very much hustle and bustle. Nor would Hanwen stay, but came along with me toward the south. My house is fifty li from the city. I usually make the trip alone, and fine that except for flipping through a book, there's nothing to do but nap. But this time we boiled crabs and water chestnuts and I shared some wine with Hanwen. We also had a delightful conversation. Oblivious to the boat's travel, I glanced around and found we had arrived. The city's outer limits could still barely be seen in the distance. So I have made this poem for you to keep and have written it on this fan to record our good meeting. [signed] Shen Zhou, 1493.
[Trans. by Johathan Chaves]
Marking: Collector's seals:
Li Jian (1747–1799), 1 seal
Pan Zhengwei (1791–1850), 1 seal
John M. Crawford, Jr., 2 seals