远山在闷热的午后,我想起匡冲磅礴的远山。年少的时节,我时常站在一大片紫云英里,看远山接纳残阳的余晖。我也曾站在山顶,看低矮的房屋,看炊烟逐渐变淡,田地现出清晰的轮廓。我的一生,终究要翻越一座座山么?我的双脚,终究要陷进不停奔走的鞋子么?当我歇下来。想起月明星稀的夜晚,远山只有一团模糊的黑影。没有人比远山走得更远,没有一首歌,在山的那一边迎接黎明。孩子在摇篮里梦见远方的风景,他的父亲正走在返乡的路上。 Mountains in the hot afternoon, I think of Chong Chong majestic mountains. In young age, I often stand in a large area of ​​purple miles, watching the distant mountains to accept the glow of the sun. I have also stood on the top of a mountain, watching the low houses, looking at the diminishing smoke and the clear outline of the fields. My life, after all, must climb a mountain? My feet, after all, to keep running shoes? When I rest. Reminiscent of the moonlight night, remote mountains only a blurry shadow. No one walk further than the distant mountains, no song, on the other side of the mountain to meet the dawn. Children dreamed of distant landscapes in their cradles, and his father was on his way home.