184. Presented to Secretary Pei at the Palace Gates | Qian Qi

这是一首投赠干谒诗——落第或未遇的文人写给朝中权要，希望得到援引。它的写法成为千古典范：前四句一个字不提裴舍人，全是宫苑景物，但每一个景物都是裴舍人的日常——上林的莺、紫禁的晓阴、长乐的钟、龙池的柳，都是舍人随侍宫禁时眼中所见。评家谓之「句句在景，字字在人」：恭维到不露痕迹，因为夸的不是人，是人所处的世界。后四句转到自己：穷途、白发、十年未遇——姿态放得极低，却无一句摇尾乞怜，凭的是颈联捧日心三字的气骨：我求的不是官，是为君用世。

This is a poem of patronage — an unrecognized man of letters addressing power at court, hoping for a hand up — and its method became the model for the ages: four lines that never once name Secretary Pei, all palace scenery, yet every item his daily world — orioles of Shanglin, morning shade of the precincts, bells of Changle, willows of Dragon Pool, the sights along a secretary's attendance at court. Critics call it every line scenery, every character the man: praise with no trace of flattery, because what is praised is not the person but the world he moves in. The last four lines turn to the self — broken road, white hair, ten years unrecognized — the posture low, yet not one line fawning; what holds it up is the backbone of a heart that would hold up the sun: I ask not for office but to be of use to my sovereign.

这一联与王维「漠漠水田飞白鹭」并称中唐写景的巅峰，妙处在把不可见的东西（钟声）写出了空间属性：钟声从长乐宫传出，穿过层层花树，在花外某处渐渐散尽——一个尽字给了声音一个终点。下句对以柳色雨中深：颜色本无深度，一个深字让雨里的柳色有了可测的层次。两句都是通感：听觉景深化，视觉纵深化。宋人评钱起「体格新奇，理致清赡」，指的正是这种在虚处用力的写法——不写柳如何绿、钟如何响，只写它们到达与消退的方式。

This couplet, set beside Wang Wei's hazy paddies and flying egrets, marks the summit of Middle Tang scene-painting, its wonder the spatial treatment of the invisible: the bell sound leaves Changle Palace, threads the layered flowering trees, and fades away at some point beyond them — the single word fades gives a sound a terminus. The answer line gives the willow color depth in the rain — a word of depth for something colorless in depth. Both are synaesthetic: hearing given perspective, sight given distance. Song critics called Qian Qi's manner fresh in form and lucid in substance, exactly this force applied to the intangible — never how green the willow, how loud the bell, only the manner of their arriving and passing away.

干谒诗最难的不是恭维，是恭维时保住自己。钱起的解法是颈联的转折：阳和（皇帝的恩泽）虽不散我的穷途之恨，但我心里始终是捧日之忠——处境可以狼狈，人格不倒。捧日典出三国程昱：少年时梦见登上泰山捧日，后来果然成为魏国重臣。钱起用这个典，等于暗示自己未遇只是暂时，忠心与才具都在。对比杜甫「朝扣富儿门，暮随肥马尘」的自嘲，钱起选择的是昂着头的乞援——这正是大历十才子之首的写法：连求人，句子也必须漂亮。

The hard part of a patronage poem is not the flattery but keeping oneself intact while flattering. Qian Qi's solution is the turn of the third couplet: the mild sun of favor does not scatter the regret of my broken road, yet my heart has always held the sun — the situation may be shabby, the person unbowed. The allusion is Cheng Yu of the Three Kingdoms, who as a youth dreamed of mounting Mount Tai to hold up the sun, and grew into Wei's great minister. To use it is to hint that non-recognition is temporary: the loyalty and the talent are both present. Set against Du Fu's self-mockery at rich men's gates at morning, behind fat horses' dust at dusk, Qian Qi asks for help with his head up — the manner of the first of the Ten Talents of Dali: even in asking, the sentences must stay beautiful.