没有教室,没有歌本,没有喧嚣的媒体、没有骄傲的舞台……每每暮色来临,参差错落的干栏楼上开始飘着些散淡的炊烟,你一定会听到了一群姑娘开始唱歌,然后是第二群、第三群、第四群……你向寨子深处走去,远远的一队小伙子嘻嘻哈哈地过来,手里拿着你不认识的木制乐器,看见你,就用不太熟练的汉话喊你去听他们唱歌,十几个人在昏黄的灯下散乱地坐着,那乐器一响,歌声就起来了,你听不懂他们摇头晃脑地唱些什么,但是看见每个人都唱得大声,随着情绪渐趋投入,原本分散的歌者们会越坐越近,到最后一定会紧紧地挤在一起,彼此执手搭肩,闭目顿足,随歌摇晃。是表演给你看吗?不,实际上,他们已经忘记了你的存在。就这样,直到月上东山,甚至鸡啼破晓……只要你和他们一样爱歌,只要你静静地听下去,总会有歌声飘在寨子里不经意的人家。 There is no classroom, no song, no hustle and bustle of the media, no proud stage ... ... Every twilight advent, dry patch of dry upstairs began to float some scattered smoke, you will hear a group of girls began to sing, and then The second group, the third group, the fourth group ... ... you walked to the depths of the stockade, far away from a group of guys laughing and joking, holding wooden instruments you do not know, to see you, not too Skilled Chinese call you to listen to them singing, a dozen people sit scattered under the dim lights, the instrument is up, the song is up, you do not understand what they shake their heads to sing, but see everyone Sing loudly, with the emotional gradually into the original dispersed singers will be sitting closer and closer, in the end will certainly squeeze together, each holding hands shoulder to shoulder, blindfolded, rocked. Is it acting for you? No, in fact, they’ve forgotten your existence. In this way, until the moon on the East, or even roar dawn ... ... as long as you like them love songs, as long as you quietly listen to, there will always be singing in the store casual people.