贺双卿（1715~1735年）， 江苏金坛人，清代女诗人，清代康熙、雍正或乾隆年间人，初名卿卿，一名庄青，字秋碧，为家中第二个女儿，故名双卿。贺双卿自幼天资聪颖，灵慧超人，七岁时就开始独自一人跑到离家不远的书馆听先生讲课，十余岁就做得一手精巧的女红。长到二八岁时，容貌秀美绝伦，令人“惊为神女”。后人尊其为“清代第一女词人”。
He Shuangqing (1715-1735), born in Jintan, Jiangsu, was a female poet of the Qing Dynasty. She was born during the Kangxi, Yongzheng, or Qianlong reigns of the Qing Dynasty and was originally named Qingqing. Her first name was Zhuang Qing, and her courtesy name was Qiubi. She was the second daughter of her family, hence her name Shuangqing. He Shuangqing has been gifted with intelligence since childhood, possessing extraordinary wisdom. At the age of seven, he began to run alone to a nearby library to listen to his teacher’s lectures. By the age of ten, he had become a skilled female celebrity. At the age of 28 or 28, she was stunningly beautiful, making her a goddess. Later generations revered her as the “first female poet of the Qing Dynasty”.
He Shuangqing’s “Spring Comes from the Sky: Plum Blossoms” showcases the author’s deep affection for plum blossoms and the sadness of their own fate through its passionate brushstrokes and unique artistic techniques.
贺双卿·《春从天上来·梅花》
自笑恹恹，
费半晌春忙，
去省花尖。
玉容憔悴，
知为谁添？
病来分与花嫌。
正腊衣催洗，
春波冷，
素腕愁沾。
硬东风、
枉寒香一度，
新月纤纤。
多情满天坠粉，
偏只累双卿，
梦里空拈。
与蝶招魂，
替莺拭泪，
夜深偷诵《楞严》。
有伤春佳句，
酸和苦，
生死俱甜。
祝花年，
向观音稽首，
掣遍灵签。
Chun cong tianshang lai:
Plum Blossom
He Shuangqing
I laugh at my own sickliness.
I took a moment during the busy spring season
To visit the flowers’ pointed buds.
The haggardness of my jade-like face
Has increased, but for whom?
Since my illness I have grown estranged from the flowers.
Now winter clothes have to be washed,
Yet spring waves are cold,
And my white wrists are soaked in grief.
A stubborn east wind
Uselessly blows cold fragrance for a moment
Beneath a wisp of a new moon.
With so much feeling it drops powder to fill the sky,
But it only brings trouble to Shuangqing,
In dreams trying to grasp it in vain.
I summon its soul with the butterflies
And wipe off tears for the orioles;
Deep in the night I secretly chant the Lankavatara.
I have beautiful lines lamenting spring,
Pain and bitterness,
Life and death are all sweet.
I pray for the flowers’ years.
Bowing to Guanyin, 1
I pull out all the divining slips.
（Grace S. Fong 译）
