Dong Xiaowan in Her Sickbed

Inscription: No artist’s inscription or signature


Artist’s seal

Difan linben滌煩臨本


Other inscription on painting

Xu Zonghao 徐宗浩 (1880–1957), 19 columns in semi-cursive script (a transcription of 4 inscriptions by other scholars and one by himself), undated; 2 seals:

Autumn grasshoppers sing through the long night.
An early chill penetrates the thin silk of her gown.
Leaves flutter downward in the west wind
That sweeps away frost from the yuanyang tiles.

When Pingzi sighed, Tuizhi reminisced, and they chanted a poem. I am not skillful at poetry so instead I have done a painting as utterly sad as the cries of cranes and gibbons or the mole crickets grieving with the moon. It is not the same as Pingshan. The image is here. All gentlemen should sympathize with it. [Signed] Chaomin [Mao Xiang 冒襄, 1611–1693]

絡緯秋啼夜漏長，薄寒新透藕絲裳。
西風落葉紛無主，閑掃鴛鴦瓦上霜。

平子浩歎，退之秋懷，皆鳴以詩。余不工吟，以畫傳之，頓成猨鶴之悲呼，還作蟪蛄之弔月。平山事異，墨胎曷歸，君子不無憐之。巢民

Yingmei yiyu [Mao Xiang’s reminiscences about Dong Xiaowan] is so sad and bitter.
Who can better depict her in her illness?
War-torn Yangzhou is unspeakable.
Mao Chaomin was not the only one that felt heartbroken.

Portrait of Dong Xiaowan in Her Sickbed

Inscribed by Yinggong [Luo Chunrong 羅惇曧, 1872–1924].

《影梅憶語》太酸辛，病態憑誰更寫真。
莫話揚州兵掠事，傷心豈獨冒巢民。

董小宛病榻小影。癭公題。

One never knows if one will become a Buddha or reach heaven.
Obviously the image on the sickbed is disheveled.
Meicun [Wu Weiye, 1609–1672] is getting old; the image seems but a dream.
It is futile to dwell on loneliness; it's better to read Buddhist poems.

The mist and moon on the Qinghuai River have vanished.
The tender charm can still be seen in this painting.
There are so many romantic situations in this world—
A failed hero and a beauty who has sickened.

In the eleventh month of the gengshen year (1920) Dan’an Jushi, Cheng Duolu (1864–1928), noted in Beijing.

成佛生[昇]天總不知，分明病榻影支離。
梅村老去人如夢，枉記清涼讀佛詩。

煙月秦淮付一塵，畫中猶見舊丰神。
世間多少傷心事，末路英雄病美人。

庚申十一月澹广居士成多祿作于京師。

Smoke from medicinal incense curls up in a long stream from the small tripod.
Spring will not come again.
In an instant, beauty, like a dynasty, can rise or fall.
The picture preserves an image for later generations.

This disastrous event alludes to a palace affair.
Memory of you is distilled to a commentary on the right and wrong.
Water whispers by the town where people hunt pheasants.
While it is true you both crossed together, you did not return together.

A successful career is highly praised forever.
A big name shines in art circles.
How many orchids have just grown in the jungle,
Less cherished than falling petals.

Lingfu

小鼎長泉繚藥煙，水嬉無復暮春天。
興亡佳麗須臾事，翰墨猶留後世緣。

劫餘影事涉宮緯，憶語空存論轉非。
射雉城邊嗚咽水，豈真同渡不同歸。

慧業千秋半浪誇，藝林籍籍著聲華。
蘭生灌莽知多少，珍重何如墮溷花。
令茀

Done at the request of Fuan [Wang Shi 王褆]. Written by Shixue Jushi [Xu Zonghao]. [Seals]: Shixue, Suiyuan

福厂先生屬。石雪居士書。 [印]：石雪、遂園


Colophons

1. Wang Shi 王褆 (1879–1960), 1 line of 8 characters in seal script followed by 3 columns in standard script, dated 1921; 1 seal:

Dong Xiaowan in Her Sickbed

The original of this painting was done by Mao Chaoming [Mao Xiang, 1611–1693] in the family collection of Sheng Jijiu [probably Sheng Xuanhuai, 1849–1916]. Ouhu [Jin Cheng, 1878–1926] borrowed it and asked Yu Difan to make a copy, inviting his colleagues in an artists’ society to inscribe it. As soon as I saw [the copy Yu did for Ouhu] I liked it so much that I asked Difan to make another copy for me. I asked Xu Shixue to copy all the inscriptions. Yu is a good copyist. The brushstroke and color are exactly the same as the original, not just similar in appearance. In the winter of the xinyou year (1921) Fuan Jushi, Wang Shi, inscribed this at the Miyan Zhai Studio in Beijing.

董小宛病榻小影圖
原本為冒巢民所繪，藏盛祭酒家。藕湖道長叚得，倩俞君滌煩臨摹一本，以徴同社諸君題詠。余見而愛之，亦請滌煩再摹一本，並請徐君石雪為錄各題。俞君臨摹獨具能手，用筆設色與原本毫不相差，非徒形似者也。辛酉冬日福厂居士王褆識於京師麋研齋。 [印]：王褆

2. Xu Zonghao 徐宗浩 (1880–1957), 2 columns in semi-cursive script, undated; 1 seal:

[Mao Xiang's] Shuihui Garden has become so desolate that it cannot even inspire a dream.
The cries of gibbons and cranes are bitter and sad.
In a nice place to the west of the bamboo grove, talk of war is inappropriate.
She who sits on her sickbed looks like a leaf in late autumn.
Singing insects in the empty garden convey the mood of this painting.
Yingmei yiyu is truly tragic.

To the right is a ci-poem in the tune of Wanxi sha inscribed by Chen Hengke (1876–1923) and transcribed by Shixue. [Seal]: Shixue

水繪園荒夢不成，故山猿鶴太淒清，竹西佳處厭言兵。
病榻人如秋後葉，空庭蟲咽畫中情，《影梅憶語》可憐生。

右調浣溪紗。陳衡恪題，石雪書。 [印]：石雪

[Translation by Keita Itoh and Lawrence Wu with Jean Schmitt and Caron Smith in Robert Hatfield Ellsworth, ed., Later Chinese Painting and Calligraphy: 1800–1950, Volume I: Text, New York: Random House, 1986, pp. 132‒33. Modified. The Romanization of Chinese characters has been changed to the pinyin system.]


Collector’s seal

An Siyuan 安思遠 (Robert Hatfield Ellsworth, 1929–2014)
An Siyuan cang 安思遠藏

Robert H. Ellsworth American, New York (until 1986; donated to MMA)