Who has the original text of Sound World? . . It is urgent. . .

Author Wang Meng

I still can't forget the flute played by the blind fortune teller when I was a child. Cold winter night, bleak life, a helpless flute, sobbing and trembling, as if crying, expressing the hardships and loneliness of life, turning back and listening to tears. I wonder if this is the first music lesson in my life.

I began to know that sound is the most beautiful thing in the world. It is seamless, boundless, weightless and intangible, but it is also fascinating, moving with the heart, speaking with words, reaching with surprise and doing with inaction.

I like listening to the rain. The sound of light rain makes me feel gentle, quiet and peaceful, but it is lingering, diffuse and endless. The sound of rain makes me feel lively, jumping and moist, as if the sound can bring some new opportunities and new hopes. The sound of heavy rain makes me strong, and majesty and terror call for lofty sentiments. And the sudden wind energy makes my heart pull together at once, and the wind and rain can make me immersed in anxiety and eager to try.

I learned to sing, and all the moving songs seem a little sad. Even if it is a March or a joke, when you learn this song and put it in your mind, when everything changes, won't the March in your memory become more and more gentle as time goes by? Even the most exciting and cheerful songs, is it a bit lonely to sing alone? A really strong person, a really excited and cheerful person, may not sing many songs. A rich tycoon may not write reportage about entrepreneurs. A successful politician is probably not a special actor or revolutionary leader. A man who lives a happy life with his sweetheart, is inseparable for a long time, has a prosperous population and a full house of children and grandchildren, and probably won't serenade.

Could it be that art belongs to the weak and losers?

I like to listen to Danxian's signature song "The Wind and Rain Return to the Boat", as if I spit out the pieces in my heart with a leisurely and rough voice. I like listening to plum blossom drums.

When I was young, I began to get in touch with western music, such as Saint Lucia, My Sun, Song of the Volga Boatman, The Last Rose in Summer > The Old Man's River. All western songs are full of emotion and have a strong feeling.

Desire, even if this desire leads to a lot of sadness and trouble, even if the pain is so strong.

Soon, I plunged into the ocean of Soviet songs. "Katyusha" and "How Vast Our Motherland is": At the beginning, clear, full, ideal and persistent Soviet songs set off waves in my heart, lit the flame of my youth and inserted my wings. Soviet songs have become a part of my life, a part of my life and a part of my destiny. No matter how the history of the Soviet Union will be written, I will always love these songs, including songs praising Stalin. They mean not so much the politics and history of the Soviet Union as my own youth and life. Music is not an official document after all. When the official document becomes invalid, it will remain (although it is related to the official document of a period), break away from the political, social and historical regulations of a period, and break away from the specific purpose and limitation attached to the voice by composers and listeners at that time, becoming an eternal memorial and witness, and an emotional storage that can be recalled forever. In this way, art belongs to the strong again. The names of art are "powerful" and "eternal". Just like Sang Song in the Soviet Union, it "won't burn in fire or sink into water".

To tell the truth, my knowledge and level of music is not so good. I can't play any musical instrument, I can't pick up a staff and sing, and I don't know the names and masterpieces of many great musicians. But I do like music. I can immerse myself in the sound world I can appreciate, and find something from it, gain something, transcend, dissolve, sublimate and realize it. Into the world of sound, body and mind like a duck to water. Mozart made me feel that I had everything, and I could find it everywhere. Tchaikovsky gave me a deep, melancholy and graceful beauty. And Beethoven, his preciseness, elegance, broadness and richness made me hold my breath. Chopin's piano music is like spring tide, like moonlight, like flowers, like mercury pouring down the ground. After listening to his works, I will feel younger, smarter and more confident. All their works give me a sacred, clear and clean soul bath, an understanding and affirmation of the value of life, including all the troubles and pains in life. Listening to their works is the guarantee and source of strength for me to live healthily, continue to live healthily, overcome all evil and interference, and work and write.

Pop songs and pop songs also have their own charms. Zhou Xuan, Teresa Teng, Wei Wei, John Denver, Barbara of the United States, Nina of Germany, Buggiaciova of the Soviet Union and Julio of Spain all impressed me deeply. I even imagined what would happen if I learned to sing pop songs or learn instrumental music or compose music instead of writing. I believe I will achieve something. Not because I show off everything, not because my vocal cords are particularly good, but because I love music too much and want to live in the world of sound too much. And experience tells me that love is the first guarantee to do a good job.

Life is better because of music, and it is not easy to be defiled. More worth it, isn't it?