When you are tired, listen to the north wind talking to the south wind.
Raise your eyes and look at the blue sky and run with the horse.
I listened to the sound of whip, horseshoe and eagle.
The sweat in Ma Touqin's voice made me grow a beard, drink, forget the map of the world and go for a walk where there is grass. Sweating makes me chase women like a horse.
When I am blue, the moon will fall in the yogurt cup. It's too blue, just like the birthmark on my ass when I was a child.
My ancestors, Mongolians, Mongolian grasslands, my ancestors' hometown, my ancestors' land of tears.
Where my ancestors died, their souls were attached to the horse, and the horse roared, and the souls of martyrs woke up in a piece of green and were reborn.