贺双卿·《孤鸾·病中》英译

午寒偏准，

早疟意初来，

碧衫添衬。

宿髻慵梳，

乱裹帕罗齐鬓。

忙中素裙未浣，

褶痕边，

断丝双损。

玉腕近看如茧，

可香腮还嫩。

算一生凄楚也拚忍。

便化粉成灰，

嫁时先忖。

锦思花情，

敢被爨烟薰尽。

东菑却嫌饷缓。

冷潮回，

热潮谁问？

归去将棉晒取，

又晚炊相近。

Gu luan 

He Shuangqing

Noon shivers are unfairly punctual:

Early the malarial symptoms appear,

So I put on another green-colored jacket.

With no desire to comb out yesterday’s braids,

I hastily tie a kerchief to tidy my side locks.

Too busy with work to wash my plain skirt:

Along its wrinkled pleats

The torn threads are frayed on both sides.

My white wrists seen close up are rough and calloused,

But these fragrant cheeks are still soft and young.

I deem my whole life wretched but I’ll bear it to the bitter end

Even if I turn into powder and ash.

I foresaw this when I married:

Beautiful thoughts and romantic feelings,

All would be suffocated in cooking smoke.

In the eastern field they only complain that the meal is brought late.

The chills return,

But no one asks about my fever.

I return to fetch the cotton quilts being sunned,

And it’s almost time to cook the evening meal again.

（Grace S. Fong 译）