Introduction: A Monarch of Many Talents

Emperor Qianlong, who ruled China from 1735 to 1796, stands as one of history’s most remarkable sovereigns. His reign, part of the Qing Dynasty, witnessed unprecedented territorial expansion, economic prosperity, and cultural flourishing. Yet beyond his political achievements, Qianlong cultivated a personal passion that would become his lasting legacy: poetry. With over 40,000 poems attributed to his name, he outpaced even the most dedicated literary figures in Chinese history, including the celebrated Lu You from the Song Dynasty. While his administrative prowess shaped an empire, his poetic endeavors revealed a complex, often humorous, relationship with art and self-expression.

Historical Context: The Qing Dynasty’s Cultural Zenith

The Qing Dynasty, established by the Manchu people, reached its cultural and political zenith under Qianlong’s rule. His grandfather, the Kangxi Emperor, and his father, the Yongzheng Emperor, had already consolidated power and expanded China’s borders. Qianlong inherited a stable, wealthy empire and further enhanced its glory through military campaigns, diplomatic maneuvers, and patronage of the arts.

During this era, known as the High Qing era, Confucian ideals blended with Manchu traditions, creating a unique cultural synthesis. Literature, painting, and scholarship thrived, supported by imperial workshops and academies. Qianlong himself was an avid collector, commissioning vast encyclopedias and art catalogs. His interest in poetry was not merely a personal hobby but reflected the broader Confucian emphasis on wen as a marker of civilized leadership. Emperors were expected to be paragons of virtue and learning, and Qianlong took this duty to heart—perhaps excessively so.

The Prolific Poet: Quantity Over Quality?

Qianlong’s poetic output is staggering by any measure. To put it in perspective, the entire Tang Dynasty, often considered the golden age of Chinese poetry, produced around 48,000 poems by all its poets combined. Qianlong alone nearly matched that number. His verses covered an astonishing range of subjects: nature, governance, daily life, historical reflections, and even mundane observations. He wrote during state ceremonies, on military campaigns, and while touring his realm.

However, contemporaries and later scholars have noted a significant gap between quantity and quality. Unlike the refined elegance of Tang masters like Li Bai or Du Fu, Qianlong’s poetry often lacked depth, originality, and technical sophistication. He favored straightforward language and simple rhythms, sometimes bordering on the trivial. This did not go unnoticed by his courtiers, who treaded carefully between honesty and flattery when reviewing his work.

A Snowy Day at West Lake: The “Counting Snowflakes” Incident

One winter, while touring the scenic West Lake, Qianlong found himself inspired by a snowfall. As flakes danced in the wind, he spontaneously composed:

One piece, another piece, and yet another piece.

The assembled courtiers erupted in applause, praising the emperor’s genius. Emboldened, he continued:

Three pieces, four pieces, five and six pieces.

This time, the applause grew more hesitant. Court officials exchanged puzzled glances—was the emperor merely counting? Yet no one dared voice skepticism. Qianlong, sensing their enthusiasm, added a third line:

Seven pieces, eight pieces, nine and ten pieces.

By now, the audience was thoroughly bewildered. The poem seemed less a work of art and more a numerical exercise. Just as an awkward silence descended, a quick-witted minister stepped forward. Kneeling, he declared, “Your Majesty’s verses are so sublime that they defy conclusion. Allow me to humbly attempt a final line.” With Qianlong’s permission, he offered:

They fly into the plum blossoms and vanish without a trace.

This closing line transformed the poem, lending it a sudden, lyrical depth. The emperor, delighted, rewarded the minister with a sable coat—but retained full authorship credit for the poem.

Collaboration with Ji Xiaolan: The Wedding Poem

Qianlong’s reliance on collaborators became something of an open secret. On another occasion, while strolling through the capital with his esteemed scholar Ji Xiaolan, they witnessed a wedding procession. The emperor, inspired by the festive drums and the bride’s shy demeanor, improvised:

Below the tower, drums and gongs echo with a ding-dong sound,
The bashful bride sits within the floral sedan,
Tonight, the candlelit nuptial chamber…

He trailed off, unable to complete the quatrain. Turning to Ji, he said, “Old Ji, you are praised for your erudition. Prove it by finishing this poem. If you succeed, I shall reward you with a hundred taels of silver.”

Ji, though privately amused, complied with:

A jade hairpin parts the crimson海棠 .

The emperor, pleased, accepted the line as his own, and another “collaborative” piece entered his oeuvre.

The Unconventional Muse: Poetry and the Commonplace

Qianlong’s verse was not limited to grand themes. He found inspiration in the mundane, even the absurd. Once, while wandering the grounds of the Old Summer Palace, he encountered a wild boar grazing undisturbed. Unfazed by the imperial presence, the animal continued its meal. Qianlong, rather than taking offense, was inspired:

In the sunset glow upon fragrant grass, a roaming pig appears.

This line, celebrating an animal rarely deemed poetic, underscored his willingness to break conventions. While some courtiers cringed, others saw it as evidence of his democratic taste—a ruler who could find beauty anywhere.

Criticism and Defense: The Emperor’s Resolve

Not all courtiers remained silent about the emperor’s poetic limitations. One Han Chinese official ventured to advise, “Your Majesty, your expertise lies in governance, where you excel. Poetry, however, is an amateur pursuit for you—and frankly, the quality is lacking. Would it not be better to focus on your strengths?”

Qianlong, aware of the criticism, responded with a quote from Confucius: “To know it is impossible, yet to do it nonetheless.” He added, “I adore literature and poetry. I know my talent is modest, but I cannot help but write.” The official could only sigh and withdraw.

This exchange highlights Qianlong’s self-awareness and stubborn passion. He recognized his limitations but refused to abandon his creative efforts, embodying a blend of humility and determination rare among autocrats.

The Shen Deqian Affair: A Posthumous Scandal

Shen Deqian, a poet and scholar who lived from 1673 to 1769, enjoyed unparalleled favor as Qianlong’s literary confidant. Officially, he was a “disciple of the emperor,” but Qianlong referred to him as “a friend more than a subject.” Shen was widely believed to have ghostwritten or polished many of the emperor’s poems, a practice that spared Qianlong embarrassment and elevated the perceived quality of his work.

Shen’s career was illustrious; he attained high office and lived to ninety-seven, dying honored by the throne. Yet after his death, a scandal erupted. It was alleged that Shen had secretly compiled a collection of poems actually written by Qianlong—or perhaps by himself on the emperor’s behalf—and published them under his own name. This posthumous controversy tarnished Shen’s reputation and hinted at the delicate, often unspoken, collaborations behind Qianlong’s poetic empire.

Legacy: The Emperor as Cultural Icon

Qianlong’s poetry, for all its flaws, remains a fascinating window into his personality and era. It reflects the confidence of a ruler who believed no domain—even art—was beyond his reach. His prolific output also underscores the Qing court’s emphasis on cultural production as a tool of legitimacy. By engaging with Chinese literary traditions, a Manchu emperor could position himself as a custodian of Han civilization.

Modern assessments vary. Some dismiss his verse as mediocre; others appreciate its accessibility and occasional charm. What is undeniable is that Qianlong’s engagement with poetry influenced court culture, encouraging officials to pursue literary pursuits and fostering an environment where art and power intersected.

Conclusion: The Poet on the Dragon Throne

Emperor Qianlong’s reign was a study in contrasts: a statesman who conquered territories and a poet who counted snowflakes; a patron of high culture and a composer of doggerel. His poetic journey—marked by collaboration, criticism, and unwavering enthusiasm—reveals a man deeply committed to self-expression, however imperfect. In the end, he may not have been China’s finest poet, but he was certainly its most persistent. And in that persistence, he left a unique imprint on history, reminding us that even emperors are human, with all the creativity and folly that entails.