网友喊话余华“地坛公园的树该续费了”，余华回应

“五一”期间，有网友在北京地坛公园发现两棵国槐树树干上挂着两块牌子，分别写着“认养人：余华的朋友铁生”“认养人：铁生的朋友余华”，认养期限均是从2024年5月1日到2025年4月30日，落款为东城区绿化委员会办公室。该网友开玩笑地表示：“余华老师，该续费了。”帖子发布后，吸引众多网友关注。

During the May Day holiday, a netizen at Ditan Park in Beijing spotted two Chinese scholar trees that were playfully dedicated to famed Chinese authors Yu Hua and Shi Tiesheng. One sign read, "Sponsor: Tiesheng, a friend of Yu Hua," while the other declared, "Sponsor: Yu Hua, a friend of Tiesheng." The dedications, authorized by the Dongcheng Afforestation (Greening) Committee Office, spanned from May 1, 2024 to April 30, 2025.

据新京报报道，记者电话联系了余华询问认养一事，他告诉记者，这两棵国槐不是自己认养的。“我根本不知道这件事，也没有注意到（上了）热搜。”

When contacted by The Beijing News, Yu Hua denied involvement: "I knew nothing about this and didn’t even notice the trending topic." Ditan Park staff clarified that the trees were sponsored by anonymous visitors, not the authors themselves. However, they confirmed that new donors have since stepped forward to adopt the trees under the same "Yu Hua and Tiesheng" pseudonyms.

地坛公园相关工作人员也介绍，这两棵树并非余华本人认养，而是普通游客认养的。 据透露，目前已经有热心市民表示认养这两棵国槐树，还是以“余华和铁生”的名义。

地坛公园里两棵被认养的国槐成了网红打卡点。新京报记者 陈琳 摄

据报道，自从这两棵国槐上了热搜，现在已经成了公园的网红打卡点。在导航地图软件上搜索“铁生的朋友余华认养的树”，直接标注出地址为：东城区和平里中街34号。据了解，这两棵树位于地坛公园北侧。工作人员介绍，这两棵树就是普通游客认养的。工作人员表示，一般市民认养树木的时候，吊牌上的名字可以自己取，“只要不违背公序良俗都是可以的。”

Now a viral landmark, the trees are tagged on navigation apps like Amap as "Trees Sponsored by Yu Hua, a friend of Tiesheng". Park officials emphasized that public tree adoptions allow personalized plaque names, provided they "do not violate public order or morals."

导航软件上已经标注了“铁生的朋友余华认养的树”。导航软件截屏

凭借《活着》等作品一举成名的余华，年轻时就与史铁生是好朋友，每次进城路过雍和宫，就会去看望史铁生，一起谈天说地。这些年来，余华与史铁生的交往被网友津津乐道，甚至称为“有一种友谊，叫余华与史铁生”。

史铁生生前最脍炙人口的作品是《我与地坛》，优美深情的文字感染了一代又一代读者。一起来回顾《我与地坛》里这些经典段落和英文翻译吧！

▌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.

▌两条腿残废后的最初几年，我找不到工作，找不到去路，忽然间几乎什么都找不到了，我就摇了轮椅总是到它那儿去，仅为着那儿是可以逃避一个世界的另一个世界。

The first few years after I was crippled, I couldn't find work: I had no future; all of a sudden, it was almost as though I couldn't find anything. And so I wheeled myself to the park almost every day: it was another world, one where I could escape this world.

▌这样想了好几年，最后事情终于弄明白了：一个人，出生了，这就不再是一个可以辩论的问题，而只是上帝交给他的一个事实；上帝在交给我们这件事实的时候，已经顺便保证了它的结果，所以死是一件不必急于求成的事，死是一个必然会降临的节日。

For several hours in a row, I was totally absorbed in thinking about death, and just as patiently, I pondered why I had to be born. This kind of thinking went on for quite a few years until I finally understood: a person's birth isn't a question for debate, but is the reality handed to him by God. When God hands us this reality, he has already incidentally assured its end, so death is something one needn't be anxious to bring about; death is a festival that is sure to befall you.

▌譬如祭坛石门中的落日，寂静的光辉平铺的一刻，地上的每一个坎坷都被映照得灿烂；譬如在园中最为落寞的时间，一群雨燕便出来高歌，把天地都叫喊得苍凉；譬如冬天雪地上孩子的脚印，总让人猜想他们是谁，曾在哪儿做过些什么、然后又都到哪儿去了；

For example, when the setting sun moves to the spot inside the stone arch of the altar, its rays spread across the ground and each rough spot on the ground is resplendent in the sunshine; or at the loneliest time in the park, a flock of swallows come out and sing, their desolate song filling the space between heaven and earth; or the footprints children make in the snow in the wintertime, always leading people to wonder who they are, what they are doing there, and where they are going;

▌譬如那些苍黑的古柏，你忧郁的时候它们镇静地站在那儿，你欣喜的时候它们依然镇静地站在那儿，它们没日没夜地站在那儿，从你没有出生一直站到这个世界上又没了你的时候；

For example, the dark old cypresses: when you're feeling melancholy, they are standing there sedately, and when you’re feeling happy, they are still standing there sedately—they've stood there since before you were born and will go on standing there until you are no longer in this world;

▌譬如暴雨骤临园中，激起一阵阵灼烈而清纯的草木和泥土的气味，让人想起无数个夏天的事件；譬如秋风忽至，再有一场早霜，落叶或飘摇歌舞或坦然安卧，满园中播散着熨帖而微苦的味道。

Or a sudden rainstorm in the park touches off a pure green and muddy earth scent, giving rise to memories of countless summer occurrences; or the autumn wind suddenly arrives, and there is an early frost, and falling leaves or tottering singing and dancing or calm and quiet sleep: the park is pervaded with an atmosphere of tranquility and a little bitterness.

编辑：黎霈融

来源：新京报 中国日报网

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