"The first snow of 2002 came a little later than ever... I was drunk that night, took your hand, and talked nonsense... You are my lover, a woman like a rose..."
Unexpected first snow, deep impulses in the heart, lovers like roses... Such a narrative of the usual secret emotions, in the hoarse high-pitched, exciting song of thousands of times, provoke people to be drunk.
The boldness of the men of the northern country and the pride of the mysterious western region give people a sense of daigo that has turned out of nowhere.
The simplest language, the most straightforward plot, the most moving melody, the saddest story.
The desolate, simple, rough, affectionate, intense, lost, wandering, faint sadness, powerless depression, desolate wandering feeling behind the song simply hits the most fragile nerve in your heart, and even has a feeling of suffocation. The penetrating power of the music can be described as vivid.
Ten years later, for the first time, I listened to the shock of "the first snow of 2002" and was in front of me.
It was Dao Lang's unique, quiet, vicissitudes voice, and there was never a song comparable to it, it was almost penetrating.
From impulsive punishment, the first snow of 2002, lovers, camel bells, Ao Bao meeting, memories of drifting in the rain, Xinjiang good, new Avarguli, Kashgar poplar, Salaam Chairman Mao, Turpan grapes ripe, nostalgia for comrades-in-arms, why the flowers are so red, playing tambourines and singing songs, sand jujube flowers, snow lotuses on icebergs, wolves in sheep's clothing, to cover grassland nights, toasts, red stars shining on me to fight, ten sending red army, embroidered red flags, nine nine sunny days, the Communist Party came bitter and sweet, turned over singing singing, My motherland.......
Dao Lang seems to be very active, but also very mysterious. The 20 million album sales are still a record and a legend.
Daolang, whose original name was Luo Lin, was born in Sichuan, exactly six years older than me, and after graduating from high school, he was displaced to chase his dream of music. As a child, he was a little inferior, depressed and did not know what his fate was going to go, until one day in a certain month of a certain year, he heard the call of Xinjiang.
In yesterday's live interview on CCTV-12, he said that he had a Xinjiang complex in his heart, so he desperately dreamed of Xinjiang and started a new life in the paradise of song and dance.
"When I first entered Xinjiang, I knew I had come to the right place. Here the climate is dry, people are in it, every pore on the body is open, you can breathe freely in the high air, the heart is naturally open, you can interact with people, listen to songs, capture inspiration, the personality gradually becomes cheerful, and the vast world is integrated, and the feeling of the sound of nature is closer to one layer. You can enjoy the wine, get drunk, and wake up the next day, only to find that you have been lying all night, there is no pressure, only the comfort of the heart and lungs..."
(The original words of Dao Lang's interview may differ from impression to memory.) )
I feel the same way.
Xinjiang is a good place.
The empty and vast Gobi Desert, the brilliant and pure sunshine, the sand jujube flowers that hunt in the wind, the watermelon plums that are intoxicatingly sweet, the large pieces of lamb, the fragrant but not greasy pilaf... The most unforgettable thing is the dry and comfortable climate, which surrounds you and engulfs you as soon as "Pu" lands, and it does not matter if you do not bathe for a week in the hot summer; it does not matter if you go under the trees casually; you feel cool and comfortable.
Every day in Xinjiang is painful, ironed, and casual. There is not much stress, the rhythm is soothing, and it is suitable for life. In "the desert is lonely and the sun is set", you can even daydream.
I have been to Xinjiang six times, and I still remember the first time I stood on the land of Xinjiang on July 14, 2001, and I felt that I was transparent and comfortable. It felt so beautiful. The chessboard garden-like stone river, the spectacular raisins of the International Grand Bazaar, the quiet and deep little East Ditch, the seventy-three fisheries where fish are caught and fished together and the lamb is eaten and played together for a day and a number of large river mussels are captured, the silly little fish in the Irtysh River, the silicified wood of the Altaklan River thousands of years ago, the nine-curved eighteen-bend road leading to Kanas Road, which can be called the Switzerland of the East, and the green trees that stand tall...
The different Western complex in his bones is somewhat absurd and bizarre, and has never been mentioned to anyone.
I remember when I was a child, I watched a movie in the open-air cinema of my hometown Bayiji: to the effect that a prince from a certain tribe in the western region (perhaps Loulan Bar), had a good childhood life, no worries about food and clothing, and when he was a little older, he was about seven or eight years old, the same age as I was watching movies at the time, he was tricked into going out of town by bad guys, he was knocked unconscious on a high-speed train, and thrown onto the desolate Gobi Desert. The swindler pretended to have entered the tribe as a prince, and the prince begged along the way, suffered so much hardship that he finally returned to the tribe, but no one recognized him as a prince, and the liar was at ease to enjoy everything that should belong to the prince. So the prince was beaten to the point of fainting again and abandoned the wilderness.... Until the peak turned around, many years later, I returned to my hometown full of dreams, but unfortunately, things are not human, lovers commit suicide, homes are destroyed, wealth is looted, leaving only broken walls and ruins, and the past that decades cannot look back on.......
The content of the movie is not exact, but the tragic situation of the prince being knocked unconscious and left behind on the train often enters my dreams, so that in my dreams, I imagined myself as the prince, and it was difficult to explain when I woke up. This kind of dream, bizarrely, will be done repeatedly, and there will be a "sequel" when needed. I could even dress up the prince's clothes, imitate the prince's mannerisms, and talk to the prince and tell him the direction of his hometown. Just like Zhuang Zhou Mengdi, are you a butterfly, or Zhuang Zhou? Or is it just the one dreaming?
Confused to this day, but also chaotic to this day. In my previous life, or in my previous lives, was it the Prince of the Western Regions?
No one told me? Perhaps this is also the reason why I have a special love for Xinjiang and the western region.
Before I met my wife. This painful, confused, and chaotic memory has been repeatedly strengthened and rendered, and gradually, I think that this life is destined to be related to Xinjiang and the western region. Whenever you drive through Xi'an, you will always have a natural sense of intimacy when you see the barren loess slopes in the west, the endless Gobi Desert, and the small farm yards that are like stars.
....... Although the wife is from Xinjiang, although she has always wanted to settle in Xinjiang, for one reason or another, she has been kidnapped by reality. Then keep your thoughts, you will definitely go to Xinjiang in the future, really and down-to-earth in that good place, enjoy a period of heavenly time, and pursue the prince in the dream.
Fortunately, there is also the song of Dao Lang.
