远在天涯 近在心间

原创首发 作者：郑平

人生的旅程从生命诞生开始，有些富足 有些素朴 兜兜转转，都要被岁月洗刷，被现实拷打，从小清新到一抹夕阳，淡雅的时光，总会在回眸的瞬间刻画，醉了流年，苍老了白发，冥冥之中，我们在摇曳的岁月里，重温忆梦，远在天涯，近在心间。

---题记---

缘起是诗，缘离是画，
寻寻觅觅那是前世不解的缘，今生摘的果盛开的花，
风雨兼程的人生 刻骨铭心的岁月，
记忆在脑海里飘飞的年华，
终会被无情的时光搁置在红尘之外，
不经意中，
我们却有一段不解的缘，如期而至，
一盏青灯，一张车票，丈量着那一份情，那一份爱，
醉了天地，醉了晚霞。 

或许是个性，或许是沧桑，
习惯了孤独，习惯了随想，习惯布衣素食，
让心与清莲结合，与静同在，
不喜张扬，不喜欢主动，不畏喧哗，守着苍老的素韵静静老去，
心中的野外田园，修枝整叶，与山水相依，与流水对话，
执笔流年，淡淡的墨香在心灵间慢慢扩散，
闭上双眼，静享时光，

静静的回忆着一本书，一盏茶，
是那么的淡，那么的伤感，
慢慢把自己变成了故事的主人公，
思绪着泪滴……怎么有泪落下，茫然....年华...

心触黯然神伤，心染尘世，
无须柔情话语，无须坚定自己，只需在心里...便是。

深深的情，静静的夜，
取一壶往昔，与流年对坐，
在弹指之间，酌酒一杯，感受忧伤，
一声鸟鸣，黎明来袭，
一缕清新，笑看浮尘，
往事兮兮，平凡素雅清淡，执一笔墨香，锁于眉心，
相遇如梦，缘分却充满虔诚与无邪，
这个年龄，满怀信心，却书写着文字与心灵的苍白，

在岁月的轩窗前，却不见这世间的洗礼与青涩。
是人生无奈，是岁月无情，还是流年容易沧桑，
一切的一切如流水无痕。

慢慢的只想一份宁静，
淡薄繁华，酌酒诗意，饮茶是歌，
我喜欢春天的花朵，也看好叶落的静美，
梦想着有人陪我看云水长天。

自问：郑平已老，岁月无情，沧桑年华，独自忧伤，
罢了，我会静静的等，
哪怕是一丝希望！

静默，等待一场烟花如何绽放孤寂一生，
一场烟雨的朦胧，感慨多少心声美梦，
梦里天涯，遇见，遇见很美，很美...

携一程云淡风轻，
捧一把水月生花，
在人生的渡口写下：一路有你，不虚年华。

不要问，情深缘浅；
不要说，相见恨晚。
遇见就是缘分的表达，
何须追问那些点点滴滴，
携一场尘世烟雨，一起静看日落烟霞。

英文直译：

English literal translation:

Far away in the world, near in the heart

Original author: Zheng Ping

The journey of life begins with the birth of life. Some of them are rich and some of them are simple. They have to be washed away by the years and tortured by the reality. From a young and fresh age to a touch of sunset, the elegant time will always be depicted in the moment of looking back. We are drunk with fleeting time, old and white. In the dark, we are in the swaying years, reviewing our dreams, far away and near in our hearts.

---Inscription---

The origin is poetry, the separation is painting,

Looking for the fate of the past life, the fruit picked in this life, the flower in full bloom,

A life of wind and rain, an unforgettable time,

Memories of the years flying in my mind,

Will be merciless time shelved in the world of mortals,

Inadvertently,

But we had a strange fate, and arrived as scheduled,

A green lamp, a ticket, measuring the feeling, the love,

Drunk heaven and earth, drunk sunset.

Maybe it's personality, maybe it's vicissitudes,

Used to loneliness, used to capriccio, used to cloth vegetarian,

Let the heart combine with Qinglian and be with tranquility,

I don't like publicity, I don't like to take the initiative, I don't fear the noise, I keep the old plain rhyme, and I grow old quietly,

The field garden in my heart, pruning and pruning, depending on the mountains and rivers, talking with the flowing water,

When I write, the faint fragrance of ink spreads slowly in my heart,

Close your eyes and enjoy the time,

Quietly recalling a book, a cup of tea,

Is so light, so sad,

He gradually turned himself into the hero of the story,

Thoughts with tears... How tears fall, at a loss

The heart is sad, the heart is stained with the world,

No tender words, no need to firm themselves, just in the heart... Is.

Deep love, quiet night,

Take a pot of the past and sit with LiuNian,

Between the fingers, drink a glass of wine, feel sad,

A birdsong, dawn,

A wisp of fresh, smile at the floating dust,

In the past, ordinary, elegant and light, holding a pen of ink, locked in the eyebrow,

Meeting is like a dream, but fate is full of piety and innocence,

This age, full of confidence, is writing the paleness of words and soul,

In the years of Xuan window, but do not see the baptism of this world and green.

Is life helpless, is time merciless, or is fleeting time easy to vicissitudes,

Everything is like water without trace.

Slowly just want a quiet,

Light and prosperous, drinking wine is poetic, drinking tea is a song,

I like the flowers in spring and the beauty of the leaves,

Dream of someone to accompany me to see the cloud water long day.

Ask yourself: Zheng Ping is old, years are merciless, vicissitudes of life, sad alone,

Just, I will wait quietly,

Even a glimmer of hope!

Silence, waiting for a fireworks, how to bloom lonely life,

A misty rain, feeling how many voices dream,

Dream of the end of the world, meet, meet very beautiful, very beautiful

With a light cloud and light wind,

Holding a handful of water moon flowers,

In the ferry of life, write down: all the way to have you, not empty years.

Don't ask, deep love is shallow;

Don't say it's too late to meet.

Meeting is the expression of fate,

Why ask those little questions,

With a earthly misty rain, watch the sunset together.