"Dou" and "steep" D ǒ u have the same pronunciation. The Golden Dou Manhui is a grand concert in Yunnan. As the saying goes, it takes ten years to fight. Flowers in December: Singing folk songs with flowers in December, such as "Plum blossoms in the first month, orchids in flowerpots in February ..." Yunnan was originally the hometown of poetry, and it was called western Yunnan in the Ming and Qing Dynasties, generally including Dali, Lijiang and Yongchang now. Song and dance have long been famous all over the country. This time, it enriched my knowledge. This is a unique place. People who are in tune with each other come from all directions and crouch in pine trees and bushes. Although they are not far apart, they do not meet each other. Most of the songs are love songs, but there are many ways. Or watching the scene, that is, things are exciting, with all kinds of rich metaphors and witty games. Or ask questions and wait for the other person to answer. Or laugh and praise each other, rhyme with things, endless cycle. Also sing other stories, ancient and modern, Chinese and foreign, quoting classics, the parties as usual, a book, familiar, casually out. There are many experts present, and they can see the level of their speeches, so they are not experts and dare not respond easily. At that time, I heard a young woman hit three opponents in a row, forcing them to be speechless, so she gave a gentle cry to show that the victory was over, got up from the thorns, got a haircut, patted the dust on the embroidered apron and smiled at everyone, as if to say, "Look, I won this song", which made her feel relaxed and happy. She took her companion and went through the burden of rice wine to quench her thirst. There are many such young women in the village near Kunming. Cheerful and lively, hard-working, I grew up with a red date face, full of white glutinous rice teeth, wearing blue clothes and trousers, an apron with a small silver button at my waist, a pair of embroidered through-hole shoes unique to rural Yunnan, and shiny braids on my head. Not only singing is very nice, but I also went to the villages to play on swings (made of horse skin and hung on high trees) with my companions on the first day of the New Year's Day. I can flatten the beam after ten times of pedaling, and I feel at ease, as if nothing had happened! In the countryside of Kunming, all kinds of wonderful and affectionate songs can be heard in the morning and evening all year round. To catch the train from Chenggong to downtown, you have to ride an old horse and walk ten miles slowly. Sometimes you can't catch the bus and you have to go back the way you came. This road will pass through some fruit trees, oak forests, bamboo forests and several slopes full of flowers for half a year. While immediately admiring the pink and blue primroses on the edge of the ridge, nodding in the light and breeze always makes people suspect that blue seems to be deliberately imitating the sky; On the one hand, listening to all kinds of mountain birds calling friends and lovers, and singing all kinds of local sweet folk songs with girls driving horses around them. Sometimes, three or five paces ahead, a A Dai bird suddenly appears, with a crown on its head and sparkling eyes, as if interested in singing. After the horse driver had a drink, it flapped its wings and flew away. As usual, this bird is silent in broad daylight, but every time in the morning light, it is happy to sit on someone else's roof and keep barking. The most interesting thing is the lark, which often takes off from the grass not far ahead, spirals up while singing and drills into the blue sky, as if to drill through the blue sky all the time. Larks crouched in the grass, but with a little encouragement, they responded to each other. Until the poor eyesight disappeared, suddenly, like a small meteor, it fell into the grass at a very fast speed and joined other companions, so several other larks took off again. Girls who drive horses are only 14 or 15 years old, and their voices are generally untrained, and some are hoarse and sandy. But in this environment, they export naturally, and whatever they sing is full of a simple and natural beauty. The most lively song everyone sang was called "The Fight of the Golden Man". On one occasion, initiated by villagers, 100 more than rural men, women and children gathered on the second floor of the yard and under the long porch. Six people sat around a table, which was fully filled with 30 short square tables. Everyone took turns to sing "Spend December" and other local songs. Although the voice is extremely soft, it is like a pine, relaxing in the breeze. Most women came to the meeting, similar to holidays. They are clean and tidy, and their heads and hands are covered with silver, which makes people afraid to know. I looked at the table as a guest. Many people looked familiar, but I couldn't name them. Later, I remembered that this was a village stall selling pickled peppers. There are people who carry water to wash clothes, craftsmen who make iron rings and buckets, managers of grocery stores, village doctors and capons, and more naturally, girls who drive horses, farmers of different ages, and old women who wander around the countryside selling needlework patterns. How many acquaintances! On the surface, the meeting is to avoid epidemic and disaster, and its main function is to spread songs. From the old generation, all the things full of wisdom and enthusiasm in memory have been passed on to the next generation. Sing it again and again until everyone is familiar with it. Therefore, the old people in the field are particularly excited and active, and often take turns around each table. Since the main function is to spread songs according to the rules, there is no need to avoid asking, not singing. The best performer among them is the trumpeter. He is over 70 years old and has lost all his teeth, but he can sing the whole song with great enthusiasm. Apart from love stories, everything is good except mocking smokers and scolding rich people. It's really like a "music library" (this kind of person is called a music master in our hometown). When I was a child, I often heard the old woman's mantra "It's hard to meet a golden man in ten years", which means that the grand event is hard to meet, and I won't know until I attend it.
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