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”.
The poem ‘Regretting the Yellow Flower Slowly: Lonely Goose’ is one of the representative works of He Shuangqing, a female poet in the Qing Dynasty. By singing the image of a lonely goose, it expresses the poet’s own sense of identity and sorrow.
贺双卿·《惜黄花慢·孤雁》
碧尽遥天，
但暮霞散绮，
碎剪红鲜。
听时愁近，
望时怕远，
孤鸿一个，
去向谁边？
素霜已冷芦花渚，
更休倩、
鸥鹭相怜。
暗自眠，
凤凰纵好，
宁是姻缘！
凄凉劝你无言。
趁一沙半水，
且度流年。
稻梁初尽，
网罗正苦，
梦魂易警，
几处寒烟。
断肠可似婵娟意，
寸心里，
多少缠绵！
夜未闲，
倦飞误宿平田。
Xi huanghua man:
A Stray Wild Goose
He Shuangqing
Emerald spreads to the end of the distant sky,
Only rosy dusk clouds scattering their fine silk
Snipped into fragments of fresh red.
When I listen, I worry that it’s so nearby,
When I gaze, I dread its being far away:
One lone wild goose
To whom can it turn?
White frost has already chilled the sandbar’s reed flowers,
So don’t even ask the gulls and egrets for sympathy.
In the dark, sleep alone.
Though the phoenix may be fine,
When is there ever a bond with it?
Mournful, I have no words to encourage you;
Go along a sandy shore or halfway up a stream
Just to pass the fleeting years.
With the rice grains recently exhausted,
The fowler’s nets cannot wait;
Your dream-soul is easily frightened
Many times in the cold mist.
Is your grief like a woman’s?
In that tiny heart there is so much tender attachment.
The night is not yet quiet,
Yet, tired from flight, you make the mistake of resting in the flat field.
（Grace S. Fong 译）
