It’s on the opposite cliff in a white cave. The Moorish Palace lurks in the jungle like a huge monster. It’s a silent father and a daughter. This pair of gypsy father and daughter put out the lights and brought out the dim light. In Flamenco night, my father had a thin face cut with a knife. I looked up and bowed my head with my guitar. My daughter looked up as crazy as others. At this moment, it seems that she is not his daughter. She is called Carmen in front of the gate of Seville Tobacco Factory. She is Esmeralda, the square of Notre Dame de Paris.
She didn’t jump like other dances, but she seemed to come to a high place, so although she was among us, she heard the Oracle’s silence and accepted the will to provoke, high-five, kick and stare at us. It happened that this place was her land, and we only shrank back and became weak. While being attracted by her, we resisted the violent heartbeat to aggravate our fascination with her, and at the same time, we looked forward to imagining that Moses saw the emperor’s rescue in the grass thorns.
Suddenly, she stopped dancing, raised her skirt and stared at me, regardless of others. She said that I was ashamed of her, but I was ashamed. It was not those who made mistakes and came back to look for me. I was tortured, and it was not warm at the moment, which just disproved the bitterness of my life. I just felt that a person had come from that height, or that a sacred object or saint just came. I deserved to be ashamed, but the flaming girl still didn’t let me go. Our provocation became more and more naked. It seems that she is the spokesperson of that sacred object or saint. She was driven to us urgently to tell us the scene of
It was a night by the fire, but I felt that I was being drenched by heavy rain many times. Many times, my throat tightened and I choked. After the break, I followed the crowd to the cave and sat in the open-air bar. Only then did I find that for the first time in many years, it was not because of a big problem, not because of the death of my loved ones. My eyes were wet, but I didn’t feel sad at all. What a clear grief still didn’t come? I was surprised and tried to distinguish clearly whether this grief was caused by the twinkling stars at night, that is, the figure on the wall was dancing. There are also two thoughts in my heart. One is to lose and then lose us. Everyone is going through life, but we are tossing and turning in loss. We have never left because that tall thing disdains to destroy the other. There are two kinds of hardships and sweetness in this world. They may not need us, but we will eventually get close. First we need it and then we are destroyed. It is not a big deal.
It’s so wild and sad that flamenco is also a messenger-like gypsy dancer. They wake up the buried nerves and wake up a little, but they can’t stop the grief from flowing. It is surging in my body, but it seems that it doesn’t belong to my body. Physical grief is like those two rivers running around the Moorish palace at night and never getting close.
In my memory, I actually witnessed such crying and such a sad night. In that winter, I went to Qinghai under an impenetrable snow curtain. In that year, Tuyuhun people’s capital passed Sun Moon Mountain and Rubber Mountain. At the same time, the snowstorm finally cut off the road ahead. I lived in a pastoral area and went to the temple to burn incense and worship Buddha like Tibetans who go to Qinghai Lake every winter, counting on the clouds and the sun.
It was while burning incense in the temple that I met Doji Dunzhu, a young man who had been a Lama since he was three years old. But he refused to admit the fact that he ran with his brother and transported the rest in front of the girls’ tents. He still circled around the temple and followed his homework all day. After the monks got into a mess, if he met a favorite girl, he quickly disappeared from the crowd and turned back halfway. When he went back, he went straight to the girl’s house without saying the final knot. He still came back with a bruise.
It’s this young man who shakes his head when everyone gets up, but I’m full of curiosity and envy about him. He has a hip flask around his waist all day long. It’s difficult to talk to him when he’s awake, and I’m more eager for him to get drunk than he is, because once he’s drunk for three rounds, he will sing a thrilling love song. We love each other like a piece of clean white paper. White people want to tear it up and write real gold words. A straight man can’t put two fingers in a ring. He will never have two hearts. I and he will drink it in the snow several times.
That night, the snowstorm came to the frozen grass again, and Dorje turned the drinking place to the tent. He almost finished singing love songs. In the middle of the night, he got up and went to the stable to feed his animals with night grass. After waiting for a long time, I went to the tent to find him. Fortunately, Dorje’s lantern could still shed a little light in the distance. I followed this light and approached, only to find that he would lie down on the railing and cry. I went to ask him, but it was unexpected that he cried more. When he finished crying, I stopped asking him to lean against the railing. At this time, he
The truth of crying is not that he has overstepped the precepts, nor that the girl has left. It is because he has seen his own destiny, which is hidden in the ordinary things everywhere. The boundless snow and storm swept through the stables, several silent mares and hundreds of baby lambs. This is his moment. Maybe he waited for a long time before he rediscovered it. At this moment, it is not a prison or a fairyland to escape and fall, but it is the place where I waited for myself. This Dorje will cry and tell me that he is not sad at all because he found himself living by his cattle.
The night in Granada is warm and short. Locals, foreigners, Jews and gypsies all indulge in drinking and feasting, and they don’t know the way. It seems that everyone wants to be the last person to send the night away. Half the street is full of outsiders singing and half the street is full of joy and sorrow. It is still there. Maybe it is rushing in the heart of everyone in this street, roaring and sobbing. In the rush, everyone’s heart will recognize where it is destined and where it is destined. In fate, I will recognize my predecessor sooner or later or turn a blind eye. Then bury your head in search of the eternal life hall where you can camp, and then look back at the sad night. They are actually sabbath flowers and mountains, just like Jews passing through the waves, and they have returned to Jerusalem, just like Spanish gypsies in Franco’s time. They decided to escape.
1. Be open-minded and open-minded
The most amazing heart of the cherry blossom season is the parting moment. The petals fall off the branches in a hurry for half a mile. After falling to the ground, the red and white have been turned over, but the unruly soul is tossing and turning in the breeze and refuses to join the sleeping camp. It seems like everything is to be said.
In this case, I will say that this day is the steepest and most whirlpool in a year, so you must give up easily and be willing to be caught in the dust and set yourself on fire.
This day is a hope that has changed into reality. No matter where it comes, it is a real charity, but it is not unusual because it is gorgeous. It is like never taking this day away from the 365th day. The 366th day is like the word "seeing flowers" in Japanese, not the word "enjoying camellia and rhododendron". It is just about enjoying cherry blossoms. Only seeing cherry blossoms can be considered as flowers. There is nothing we can do. Many words are in Japanese.
I want to say that it’s not cherry blossoms, but that four years ago, Qinghai and Gansu rented a car in Lanzhou, passed through Wushaoling Rouge Mountain along Hexi Corridor, and then reached Dunhuang in Gobi Desert, then entered Delingha in Dachaidan, then turned over Rubber Mountain and Sun Moon Mountain, looking at Qinghai Lake, and finally passed Ta ‘er Temple in Xining City. After one month, I returned to Lanzhou.
See all the way, although it’s all a few words, I at least recorded it, and I’ll look at it again today and clean it. It’s a pity that times have changed. I’m doomed not to travel like this again. running all the way wants to argue and forget her words, but wants to pierce the rivers and flowers and touch the huge world. The mystery is also shrouded in mystery, and I can’t wait to disappear into the whirlpool given by God and never come back.
Yes, it is time to take a break from my doomed career. See you in Gansu, see you in Qinghai, see you in Gobi, and see you in lamb. It’s either goodbye or confusing in my soul.
From Xiaowan to Bulongji, the Fenghe River has been chased by the storm, and I have been caught up in it. This is the storm. The other part of Anxi County has been tumbling all year round in Qilian Mountain, but it can become a part of the desert Gobi with no end in sight. It is first of all a defendant who is hard to argue and looks like an orphan who is desperate.
That is, as far away as the Han and Tang Dynasties, this silent city fell into this storm. Whether trees or pedestrians are woodpiles or livestock, most of the time they stumble all the year round. I can’t help but be buried here. I doubt that I have to decide my fate before I get close to the gods. Whoever has no house at this time will not have to build. Whoever is lonely at this time will always be lonely.
It’s close to being embarrassed, close to being in vain, but it’s not to dodge and accept fate. It may also be to resist the rush, but to be barren, thorns and flowers. If it doesn’t, it’s not worth paying attention to. Just like Shule River in Anxi County, it can abandon the storm and ignore it. Almost all rivers are different. Its direction is not west to east, but east to west, and it goes deep into Xinjiang at dusk. When I pass Shule River Bridge, there is still one person in the four fields, it seems to have stopped the whole world. One is the storm, and the
Although I am not a believer, I have witnessed the fact of compassion in my silence. After the Anxi storm, the desert is more intense and the Shule River will eventually come to an end. But compassion is in the midst of more storms and deserts, even if it dies from them, just like people hiding bodhisattvas in the west. Hell will not swear to become a Buddha.
Fear came into being except when Shule River was still on its way to the Gobi Desert, when the moonlight was looming deeper into the Gobi Desert, and gradually the storm and dust almost wiped me away. Suddenly, a world came from the wind, and the newborn ghost wailed and the horses rushed to the city to fall. The ferocious method was described by language, but I was not afraid at all, because I had seen huge windmills in the rocky gravel, and their blades were spinning around me for hundreds of miles, and it seemed that they would never stop for a day, so I was afraid to retreat before I was more serious.
Tonight, the roaring and spinning pierced the dusty windmill. It’s not that I came all the way to find out the secret. It’s even more that people prostrate themselves. It’s the way of the world that the magic destiny moves slightly. Therefore, it’s a blessing to be a frightened person next to the windmill tonight without a heart of stone.
Aksai is not bad even if he dies in this overwhelming blue and white. Poplars stand on both sides of the road like a clean pilgrimage team, spreading all the way towards Altun Mountain. In the sky above them, there is no other blue. The sea is as blue as the sky above Altun Mountain, but the white snow on the top of the mountain has added a light blue light. This is not only a light blue snow that I have never met or heard of, but also a white blue one that is getting bluer and bluer as the sun grows stronger.
However, Aksai, a Kazakh-inhabited territory, is not amazing. It’s right here where I live. There are tents and mosques. Children are still running from the fields. My mother’s eyes are so full that I can’t help but get close to fireworks. At the intersection of entering the city, I really think it’s just a brother who greeted me from the wilderness. I can’t help but think that I’m not drunk at the brother’s border. I’m afraid I’ll live up to this snowy white poplar. I’m afraid I don’t deserve a decent departure until the sun is blue.
However, at the bottom of the poplar tree near the winter break pasture, I was drunk, and the migratory birds flew over the wine table, but it was golden, almost covering my legs and feet. The deciduous banquet was far from over. I actually went into the deciduous pile and fell asleep until dusk when I woke up and turned around. Only then did I see that I was asleep in the deciduous pile, and an old Kazakh man was beside me saying that I couldn’t understand sleeping.
After nightfall, in a tent, when the Kazakh boy was playing the Dong Bu La near the end, I was drunk again. In a trance, I thought that I would stay here for one night, but a more realistic Aksai might happen. How could I not understand it in the daytime and at night? So I left the tent and stumbled back to the road, moonlight pasture, silent snow mountain, solemn Kazakh life, fire, cooking horses, eating night grass, and the vineyards in the valley were quiet and clear with the breeze, but it was the real worldly desires moving. That is, every day at hand, we know how the moonlight Axel is like when we just set foot in our life, but it will be near at hand and will eventually be far away. It urges us to travel in the dust and sand, and we can’t wait to make sure that it is there again and again, but when you pull it out in the mountains outside, it disappears and becomes the most tiring thing in your body.
In the eyes of drunkards in the second half of the night, those who have gained and lost their love wishes are blessed. They are not all bright lights, Axel.
In the wilderness of Qinghai, at night, I continued to walk in the mountains and rivers, and after the star shower, the creatures ushered in a clean moment. I couldn’t help but feel this yearning. All of them lived in seclusion and silence, but passers-by often could vaguely hear them growl. These many sights were before the words, and they revealed the truth, which was definitely more naked than babies. Now I want to record them, and I’d better call them names. They are snow, hills, peaks, villages, stars, grasses, lakes, tornadoes, lambs, clouds, uncles
People here and now listen to me, and I want to say to him, you see, this is you and me, but you know that God is only in the wilderness of you and me.