川江号子 号子声声,远远传来。 粗犷犹如江涛,浑厚婉若涛声,悠长仿佛江风的号子声,象江涛撞击江岸一样扑向我的心胸。哦,川江号子,一听见你,蓦地,我将原来所有唱过、哼过的歌都忘了。 近了,近了。待我细听,似乎只听见哼唱,没有曲谱,仿佛是从历史深处传来的呐喊;而几句简单得不能再简单的歌词,怕是千百年来在岁月的风口浪尖上千百次风锤浪炼的一首最古老的诗。 也不知号子里有一种什么东西震撼着我,听着听着我也哼了起来,追着江滩纤夫的脚印、伴着风涛中搏击的木桨、望着漩涡中挣扎的风帆哼了起来。 骤然,我血的狂涛,在我蓝色的河和红色的江里奔涌、翻卷…… Chuanjiang son sub-sound, far came. Rough as Jiang Tao, vigorous Yuntao Tao sound, as long as the winds of the Yangtze River sound, as Jiang Tao Jiang Jiang hit the same as my heart. Oh, Chuanjiang son, I heard you, I suddenly, I will have all the original singing, hum song forget. Near, near When I listen carefully, it seems that I can only hear humming, no music, as if crying from the depths of history; and a few simple lyrics can not be simpler, afraid for thousands of years on the cusp of thousands of years The oldest poem that winds blows I do not know what there is a son shook me, listening to me, I also grunted, chasing the footprints of the beach matsuka, accompanied by wind Tao in the fighting wood, looking at the whirlwind struggling wind hum stand up. Suddenly, my blood crazy, surging in my blue river and the red river, curling ...