《凌虚台记》中英文读后感
国于南山之下，宜若起居饮食与山接也。
Built at the foot of the Southern Mountains, one would naturally expect daily life to be in constant touch with the mountains.
四方之山，莫高于终南；而都邑之丽山者，莫近于扶风。
Of all the mountains under heaven, none rises higher than Zhongnan; and of all cities nestled against mountains, none is closer than Fufeng.
以至近求最高，其势必得。
With such proximity to the highest peak, one would surely be able to behold its grandeur.
而太守之居，未尝知有山焉。
Yet the governor, residing right here, had never truly known the mountains existed.
虽非事之所以损益，而物理有不当然者。
Though this does not affect the course of events, it runs counter to the natural order of things.
此凌虚之所为筑也。
Such was the reason for building the Lingxu Terrace.
方其未筑也，太守陈公杖履逍遥于其下。
Before the terrace was built, Lord Chen, the governor, would wander leisurely beneath the mountains with a staff and simple shoes.
见山之出于林木之上者，累累如人之旅行于墙外而见其髻也。
He saw the peaks rising above the forests, overlapping like the topknots of men walking beyond a wall, only half-visible.
曰：“是必有异。”
He murmured, “There must be something extraordinary here.”
使工凿其前为方池，以其土筑台，高出于屋之檐而止。
He ordered artisans to dig a square pond before the mountain, and to pile the excavated earth into a high terrace, raising it just above the eaves of his house.
然后人之至于其上者，恍然不知台之高，而以为山之踊跃奋迅而出也。
Then, when one ascended to its top, they would be lost in a daze, unaware of the terrace’s height, and instead think the mountains were leaping forth in a sudden surge.
公曰：“是宜名凌虚。”
Lord Chen declared, “This terrace shall be named Lingxu, meaning ‘soaring into the void.’”
以告其从事苏轼，而求文以为记。
He told this to his subordinate Su Shi, and asked him to write an essay to commemorate it.
轼复于公曰：“物之废兴成毁，不可得而知也。”
Su Shi replied to Lord Chen: “The rise and fall, success and ruin of all things are beyond human prediction.”
昔者荒草野田，霜露之所蒙翳，狐虺之所窜伏。
Once this place was a wild field overgrown with grass, shrouded in frost and dew, a haunt for foxes and vipers.
方是时，岂知有凌虚台耶？
At that time, who could have imagined that the Lingxu Terrace would one day stand here?
废兴成毁，相寻于无穷，则台之复为荒草野田，皆不可知也。
Rise and fall alternate endlessly; thus, it is impossible to know if this terrace will one day return to being a wild field again.
尝试与公登台而望，其东则秦穆之祈年、橐泉也，其南则汉武之长杨、五柞，而其北则隋之仁寿，唐之九成也。
I have once ascended the terrace with you to gaze into the distance: to the east are the Qin Mugong’s Qinian and Tuoquan Palaces; to the south are Emperor Wu of Han’s Changyang and Wuzuo Palaces; to the north are the Sui Renshou and Tang Jiucheng Palaces.
计其一时之盛，宏杰诡丽，坚固而不可动者，岂特百倍于台而已哉？
Consider their former grandeur—magnificent, strange, and beautiful, solid and unshakable—were they not a hundred times more imposing than this mere terrace?
然而数世之后，欲求其仿佛，而破瓦颓垣，无复存者，既已化为禾黍荆棘丘墟陇亩矣，而况于此台欤！
Yet after several generations, if one seeks to find even a trace of them, only broken tiles and crumbling walls remain; they have long since turned into fields of grain, brambles, and mounds of ruins. How much more fleeting, then, is this terrace?
夫台犹不足恃以长久，而况于人事之得丧，忽往而忽来者欤！
If even a terrace cannot be relied upon to endure, how much more so are the gains and losses of human affairs, which come and go in a flash!
而或者欲以夸世而自足，则过矣。
If anyone wishes to boast to the world and find self-satisfaction in this terrace, they are greatly mistaken.
盖世有足恃者，而不在乎台之存亡也。
For there are things in this world truly worth relying on, and they do not depend on the survival or ruin of a mere terrace.
既以言于公，退而为之记。
Having spoken these words to Lord Chen, I retired and composed this record.
盖天地之间，凡有形者，莫不长于盛而短于久。
Truly, between heaven and earth, all things with form flourish briefly but cannot endure forever.
山虽高，不能无陵谷之变；水虽深，不能无桑田之移。
Though mountains are high, they cannot escape the shift of peaks and valleys; though waters are deep, they cannot avoid the change of seas to mulberry fields.
况乎人力所构，台榭亭阁，不过一时之观，百年之后，安知其不与草木同腐哉？
How much more so are man-made structures, terraces and pavilions—mere sights for a moment. After a hundred years, who can say they will not rot away with the grass and trees?
陈公之筑凌虚，非为夸也，实为感物之妙，欲以近山而见山之真。
Lord Chen built Lingxu not to boast, but to feel the wonder of nature, to draw near the mountains and see their true essence.
然物之真，不在形之显，而在心之明。
Yet the truth of things lies not in their visible form, but in the clarity of the heart.
心苟明矣，虽居闹市，亦可见南山之翠；心苟昧矣，虽面终南，亦不知山之高。
If the heart is clear, one can see the green of Zhongnan even in a busy market; if the heart is dim, one cannot know the height of Zhongnan even when facing it directly.
苏子之记，非为记台，实为记心。
Su Zi’s record is not of the terrace, but of the heart.
记心者，记物之理，记人之常，记盛衰之变，记得失之轻。
To record the heart is to record the principles of things, the common lot of man, the changes of rise and fall, and the lightness of gain and loss.
夫得者，不必为喜；失者，不必为悲。
Gain need not be cause for joy; loss need not be cause for sorrow.
得者，时也；失者，亦时也。
Gain is a moment; loss is also a moment.
时来则兴，时去则废，物理固然，非人力之所能强也。
When the time comes, things flourish; when the time passes, they decay. This is the natural order, beyond the power of man to force.
故君子不恃于物，而恃于德；不恋于形，而恋于道。
Thus, the noble man relies not on things, but on virtue; he does not cling to form, but to the Dao.
德者，立身之本；道者，天地之常。
Virtue is the foundation of one’s being; the Dao is the constancy of heaven and earth.
恃德者，虽身没而名不灭；循道者，虽物毁而理长存。
Those who rely on virtue endure in name even after their death; those who follow the Dao see their principles live on even after things are destroyed.
凌虚之台，虽高，不过百尺；虽久，不过百年。
The Lingxu Terrace, though high, is but a hundred feet; though enduring, but a hundred years.
而苏子之文，与山俱高，与天俱久。
Yet Su Zi’s essay stands as high as the mountains, as enduring as the heavens.
何也？以其记心，以其载道，以其明盛衰之理，以其晓得失之常。
Why? Because it records the heart, carries the Dao, clarifies the principles of rise and fall, and reveals the common lot of gain and loss.
故曰：物之废兴成毁，不可得而知也；而心之明，道之存，可得而常也。
Thus it is said: The rise and fall, success and ruin of things are beyond prediction; but the clarity of the heart and the existence of the Dao are constant and knowable.
结语（文言+英文对照）
凌虚之台，起于尘土，归于尘土；苏子之文，生于感慨，传于千古。
The Lingxu Terrace rose from dust and shall return to dust; Su Zi’s essay was born of reflection and shall be passed down through the ages.
盛衰之变，得失之轻，尽在一文之中。
The changes of rise and fall, the lightness of gain and loss, are all contained in this single essay.
后之览者，亦将有感于斯文。
Those who read this in later ages will also feel moved by these words.