《我与地坛》，长篇哲思抒情散文，中国当代著名作家史铁生著。是史铁生文学作品中，充满哲思又极为人性化的代表作之一。地坛只是一个载体，而文章的本质却是一个绝望的人寻求希望的过程，以及对母亲的思念。

我在好几篇小说中都提到过一座废弃的古园，实际就是地坛。许多年前旅游业还没有开展，园子荒芜冷落得如同一片野地，很少被人记起。
In a number of my stories, I’ve referred to an antiquated park: in fact, this is the Temple of Earth Park. Some years ago, before tourism had developed much, it was as desolate and neglected as a wasteland. People seldom gave it a thought.

地坛离我家很近。或者说我家离地坛很近。总之，只好认为这是缘分。
The Temple of Earth wasn’t far from my home, or perhaps it’s better to say my home wasn’t far from it. All in all, I felt I was related to it by fate.

地坛在我出生前四百多年就坐落在那儿了，而自从我的祖母年轻时带着我父亲来到北京，就一直住在离它不远的地方——五十多年间搬过几次家，可搬来搬去总是在它周围，而且是越搬离它越近了。我常觉得这中间有着宿命的味道：仿佛这古园就是为了等我，而历尽沧桑在那儿等待了四百多年。
It had reposed there for four hundred years before my birth, and ever since, when my grandmother was a young woman, she had taken my father to live in Beijing, my family had lived near it: in more than fifty years, my family had moved several times, but always to a place in its vicinity. Each time, we moved closer to it. I often felt this was something foreordained—as if this old park were waiting especially for me: it seemed it had been waiting for four hundred years—through all the tumultuous changes of those centuries.

它等待我出生，然后又等待我活到最狂妄的年龄上忽地残废了双腿。四百多年里，它剥蚀了古殿檐头浮夸的琉璃，淡褪了门壁上炫耀的朱红，坍圮了一段段高墙又散落了玉砌雕栏，祭坛四周的老柏树愈见苍幽，到处的野草荒藤也都茂盛得自在坦荡。
It had waited for me to be born, and then it had waited for me to be suddenly crippled in both legs during my wildly ambitious youth. In those four hundred years, it had been denuded of the colored glazes on the eaves of its old temple, the glorious vermilion of its gates and walls had faded, the high walls had collapsed, pieces of jade inlaid into the pillars had loosened and scattered, yet old dark green cypress trees surrounding the altar had become more and more serene, and everywhere, weeds and vines flourished with abandon.

这时候想必我是该来了。十五年前的一个下午，我摇着轮椅进入园中，它为一个失魂落魄的人把一切都准备好了。那时，太阳循着亘古不变的路途正越来越大，也越红。在满园弥漫的沉静光芒中，一个人更容易看到时间，并看见自己的身影。
It was about the right time for me to come here. When the park was finally ready for me—a man at loose ends—I maneuvered my wheelchair into the park for the first time. The sun—on its ancient, unchanged path—was just growing bigger, and redder. In the still rays of light suffusing the park, it was easy for a person to see the time, and easy to see his own shadow.