Before Tuesday night, it is required to deliver a speech about Mongols or Inner Mongolia or Erdos, and the word limit is about 800 words.

I haven't been so involved in a kind of music for a long time, and I can't help crying because of those loud and distant notes. The trill of nine ileums calls me into the eternal wasteland, and my heart can't help being torn apart by the loneliness, loneliness, snow and yellow sand from music. I couldn't bear this deep pain, so I took out my mobile phone and sent a short message: I was shocked. This is the eruption and the most primitive emotional cry in the depths of my soul. Listen-

This is the long tune, Mongolian long tune, and my vocabulary is poor, so I can't resort to extreme Mongolian long tune.

Hazab, the king of grassland songs, I didn't set foot on his grassland, nor did I ride a horse to listen to his singing on horseback. I can only feel his affection, his vicissitudes, his tenacity and his loneliness from the speaker. A song "Little Huang Ma" was played repeatedly. There is no electro-acoustic band accompaniment. Only Ma Touqin's sadness came in and out. The almost pale reproduction of the original sound reflects a vast, broad, profound, simple and kind life force. I can't understand a word he sings, but it doesn't affect me from entering his thrilling range at all, which makes my heart surge like a strong liquor. ...

There is no doubt that this song is lonely, vigorous, sad, resolute, sad and strong. Mongolian, a brave and powerful nomadic people, why does it have such a delicate and lasting voice? What vicissitudes and loneliness have they experienced? What kind of chivalry do you have?

A wolf howled in the sky.

A leg was bitten by a hunter.

It finally bit off its own bone.

Three legs continue to look for your hometown.

……

The sunset was like blood, and a wolf's piercing howl pierced the sky. The vast grassland is so quiet that only the wind blows gently and its companions have not come yet. It must live! Blood, dripping, rolled across the grass, infiltrated into the soil and stretched out into the distance.

Mongols, like this hyena, are also looking for "Chilechuan, under the Yinshan Mountain, the sky is like a vault, and the cage covers four fields." The sky is grey and wild, and the wind blows grass and sees cattle and sheep. "However, sandstorms, locusts, snowstorms, droughts and severe cold have caused them to drift from place to place and drift all their lives. If there is no long loneliness, if there is no vicissitudes of wandering around the world, where can there be such a free and ancient voice of weeping blood? The sky is vast and boundless, and it is this empty grassland that makes a person have to erupt and shout at mountains, rivers, grasslands and the sky. Yes, this kind of voice doesn't need to be heard. That kind of deep, broad, distant and desolate only belongs to the grassland, and it is an endless grassland picture engraved in the song. This kind of voice is eager to listen, otherwise, why does the high-pitched voice go over mountains, why does the long wind float away, why does the sadness look for * * *, and how does the kindness find warmth?

From the songs, we see the truth of a nation's emotion, and a delicate, sensitive, kind and worried heart is also hidden under the brave and heroic external character. However, this does not mean that this nation is weak and weak. There is a Mongolian proverb: "A tooth falls into the stomach and a broken arm is hidden in the sleeve." Perhaps it is precisely because the Mongols have such a stubborn internal disposition tendency that the "Kulil Terrace" of 1206 came into being. Lonely for a long time, wandering for a long time, vicissitudes of life for a long time will have a fierce force in the generation, Genghis Khan, set out happily in the wave of the Song Dynasty.

Years leave your story.

Your ancestors left your long-cherished wish.

The stream left your love song.

Dashan left your faith.

Koumiss makes you intoxicated.

Leave your carnival by the fire.

……

There are tears in the singer's eyes, as well as vicissitudes and precipitation left by years.

Nowadays, the blood flowing on the grassland has already vanished, and that period of history has become confusing and fragmented. However, singing a long tune on the grassland for a long time contains a bloody legend. Yes, if the long tune had not experienced the prosperity and decline after the prosperity, it would not have such rich and vigorous ideological connotation.

Wyndell dichinson grassland, long song when crying. In the trembling of a long note or the sharp turn of a beat, a nation is recalling and sighing. However, this is by no means decadent or crying. It is a kind of silence, just like "the lonely smoke in the desert, the long river sets the yen." In this silence, mourning cranes spread their wings into the sky, and goshawks circled and sang. The long tune rooted in Mongolian blood and grassland makes the Mongolian people gallop on the vast grassland with their simple, tenacious, bright, enthusiastic and bold personality.

I was really shocked for a long time, and everything about me seemed so dispensable in that melodious and resounding tone. Those so-called troubles and distractions, those irretrievable noise and glitz have been cleaned up by the sound of nature, and my heart has never been peaceful and quiet, and that breadth, depth and depth are quietly gathering in my heart. ...

I think Mongolian long tune is not only the backbone of Mongolian soul, but also the backbone of the whole human soul!