The Night of the Sixteenth (Xu Can, 1610–1677?)

Jade awry and fragrance swirling in the midnight light;
On red soft carpets the feast has just begun.
The fair moon’s favor on man waned not a bit;
Last night it was full.

Crimson candles have burnt out in the wind,
but the merry mood is not yet sated;
A stroll amid lanterns will have to wait for next year.
Better to have the phoenix flutes play until dawn,
Lest the flowers close their lids.