藏家儿女,热情奔放。
in the curve of old bones,”
and dreams she reach them
哼唱直白而抒情,曲调悠扬,有人在跟着打节拍。
she sings heathen songs
这场
天盛宴,人们放肆高歌开怀大笑。
I will not lower my voice,”
会唱的跟着唱了起来,男声低沉。
“my mother&039;s child dances in the darkness ,
in the faces of cats in the falling of feathers,”
I will not cut my hair,
the one who run barefoot,
so sing them with voices of thunder and rain,”
火在燃烧,噼里啪啦地响,又一
鼓声加了进来。
“and deep in our bohe old songs are waking
在这个夜晚,这个所有人的命运都还没有起航的夜晚。
那就
吧,放下鼓,她拉上了木若。
余音未尽,欢笑声穿透冬季的小院,回响在空旷的高原之上。
“I am my mother&039;s savage daughter,
木若看到了坐在那里喝酒的邬川,火光照亮了他棱角分明的侧脸,他在和旁边的帕拉大叔说着什么,又抬眼看过来。
歌声一半桀骜,一半温柔。
这是木若最开心的一次旅程,自由的
躯在祖国西
大地上奔跑,灵魂在沿途的风光人情中寻找自我。
with a song and a broom,”
“we are all brought forth out of darkness
she looks for her omens in the colors of stones,
by the light of the moon ,”
洛雨她们的歌打开了气氛,后面高歌载舞,酒香鼓声,酥油茶
糍粑烤牦牛肉就大蒜,欢笑声一直持续到后半夜。
不会的模仿着调调轻哼,还有的也起
起了舞,鼓声不停。
女
不应该被丢掉野
,她们也可以肆意张狂,她们也可以无爱自由。
“my mother&039;s daughter is a savage,
“we are our mother&039;s savage daughters,
女
之美,从不困于某一词。
一簇烈焰,淡了谈话的人们,一面鼓,两个忘了旁人自顾
唱的姑娘。
“in the dang of fire,
we are our mother&039;s savage daughters,
I will not cut my hair,
the one who runs barefoot,
into this world through blood and through pain,”
目光相撞,他在微笑,眉眼温柔。
I am my mother&039;s savage daughter,
“I am my mother&039;s savage daughter,
cursing sharp stones,
I will not lower my voice,”
we will not cut our hair,
cursing sharp stones,
“and watches the stars and rehe pls ,
她暂时脱离了自己的生活,以一个路人的
份,看那些她不曾拥有过的人生,感受他们的喜怒哀乐,问自己路在何方。
月光下,有卓玛起舞,谁的裙边飘
。
we will not lower our voice…”
洛雨醉了,她想
舞。