“and deep in our bohe old songs are waking
“and watches the stars and rehe pls ,
cursing sharp stones,
we will not cut our hair,
we are our mother&039;s savage daughters,
into this world through blood and through pain,”
火在燃烧,噼里啪啦地响,又一
鼓声加了进来。
the one who runs barefoot,
I will not lower my voice,”
by the light of the moon ,”
we will not lower our voice…”
“I am my mother&039;s savage daughter,
the one who run barefoot,
“we are all brought forth out of darkness
女
之美,从不困于某一词。
“my mother&039;s daughter is a savage,
cursing sharp stones,
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。
哼唱直白而抒情,曲调悠扬,有人在跟着打节拍。
I will not cut my hair,
歌声一半桀骜,一半温柔。
“we are our mother&039;s savage daughters,
“my mother&039;s child dances in the darkness ,
I am my mother&039;s savage daughter,
这场
天盛宴,人们放肆高歌开怀大笑。
月光下,有卓玛起舞,谁的裙边飘
。
洛雨醉了,她想
舞。
in the curve of old bones,”
会唱的跟着唱了起来,男声低沉。
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。
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。
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。
in the faces of cats in the falling of feathers,”
she looks for her omens in the colors of stones,
目光相撞,他在微笑,眉眼温柔。
不会的模仿着调调轻哼,还有的也起
起了舞,鼓声不停。
she sings heathen songs
那就
吧,放下鼓,她拉上了木若。
with a song and a broom,”
“in the dang of fire,
藏家儿女,热情奔放。
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。
and dreams she reach them
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。
“I am my mother&039;s savage daughter,
余音未尽,欢笑声穿透冬季的小院,回响在空旷的高原之上。
so sing them with voices of thunder and rain,”
I will not cut my hair,
在这个夜晚,这个所有人的命运都还没有起航的夜晚。
I will not lower my voice,”