Chapter 1157

A microphone, a wooden chair, a guitar, a bunch of lights.

The whole world condenses into a stage. It only needs one person and a voice. That's all. Standing here, you can break the shackles of space and travel all over the world; Can also break the shackles of time, experienced a long life. The sight falls on this stage involuntarily, quietly, so quietly, looking at the man in the middle of the stage.

He is focusing on adjusting the strings, down and vicissitudes, seems to be lost in the vast sea of people will not attract any attention, perhaps just lying under the chair that drunk tramp, but now it has become different, even can not see his face and eyes, can only vaguely feel the loneliness and alienation, bitterness and pain High and proud temperament, and then the line of sight can no longer move.

In the hazy halo, without warning, the tuning fingertips begin to outline the strings. Simple chords seem to be nothing special, but the musical runes jumping between the slender fingertips are flying through the light and shadow. Time stops in this way. Then, the noisy voices gradually disappear, leaving only the wine glass and the table gently collide The trivial sound of the slight collision between the spoon and the coffee cup left a lingering sound in the air.

Between trance, there is an illusion that the sound of music begins to grow bigger, little by little, and finally resounds clearly in the ear.

"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die soon."

Just the first song, the mellow and hoarse voice rippled in the melody, just like the green bamboo like palm in the red velvet. The soft and warm light temperature passed through the fingertips, and the delicate emotion fell on the top of the heart, firmly grasping every clue of the mind.

"Hang me, oh, hang me, I shall soon die. I don't care about hanging, but unfortunately, I don't want to be trapped in a grave forever. I've traveled all over the world. "

In the song of gurgling water, natural and unrestrained, unrestrained and casual, but in the final sound of smoke and fog, a touch of sadness and vicissitudes are dense. The light bitterness lingers under the nose like the smell of cigarette. The hoarse voice is like plucking the strings, gently plucking the heartstrings. Before I realize it, I feel deeply Deeply immersed in a hazy halo.

He has been to every corner of the world, but now he has to be trapped in the cold and dark of a tomb. What is more terrible than death is the loss of freedom. He did not mind the trial of hanging and the erosion of death, but missed the flying of freedom and the wanton dream.

The soft call fell on my heart, and my eyes were deeply watching the face under the halo. The drooping eyelids covered all my eyes. The shadow cast by the thick and slender eyelashes hid the vulnerability and pride in the soul. The handsome eyebrows were close to the middle, and experienced a lot of vicissitudes After suffering, it seems to leave a deep mark.

Involuntarily, my thoughts follow the indifferent string sound and moving voice to travel all over the world, and my heart is agitated. Time and space began to spread out little by little.

"Footprints all over Cape girado, and the corners of Arkansas; Wandering around Cape girardo and Arkansas. I'm so damn hungry. A straw can hide my figure. I've been through thousands of mountains and rivers. "

I don't know if it's an illusion. In the hazy halo, I can catch the light and upward corners of my mouth, hidden between my beard. It seems not obvious, but the sparse eyebrows gently sing a happy and comfortable look, and it seems to recall my wandering.

The scenery of Cape girardo and arkens is neither meandering, nor magnificent, nor beautiful, but it still leaves an indelible mark in the deep of my mind. The wind, the trees, the sunshine, the sky... Just a call in my mind, happiness surges up. Even if he is almost starving, a straw is enough to cover his figure, But it was still a happy journey.

That kind of pure happiness, crystal clear and transparent, without any impurities, sincere and simple.

Even if you are poor, even if you can't eat enough, even if you don't have enough clothes, happiness is real. Caught off guard, I can't help but close my eyes, gently follow the melody, swing my body, let go of my steps, and start to wander around the world.

"Climb to the top, where I stand firm; Climb to the top, where I stand firm. Carry a back and forth in the shoulder, holding a dagger in the hand, poor see, I have reached the ends of the earth

With the collision of reality and ideal, life became bloody and cruel again. In the Vietnam War, the United States launched all the young people in the whole country and threw themselves into the war. Then, in the wandering journey, he climbed to the peak and strengthened his position - he chose to join the war and went out for his country with guns and daggers.

But now, the sigh and loneliness between the words are surging up.

Which war, for whom? What kind of war is it for? Who will remember those innocent lives? They all think that they serve their country, but they are just a fig leaf. They use their fresh and young lives to cover the shame of the politicians in the White House. After they die in a foreign land, no one remembers their names. In the end, they just turn into a series of numbers.

God, Oh God, he has been to the ends of the earth, wandering carefree, he has no food, he has no shelter, he has no fetters, he has nothing but music, but he once owned the world.

So, he would rather die, at least, what he had still existed.

The whole gas lamp bar is quiet. In the quiet air, the light and shadow really stop. It's full of bitterness and bitterness, but it's indescribable. It's just like watching the figure on the stage quietly. It's sad and desolate. It seems that even the heart in the chest has stopped beating.

That a face full of vicissitudes, still with a touch of loneliness.

The light was so bright that it shrouded his figure, and the world outside the light disappeared completely, leaving him alone and helpless; But he still straightened his waist, opened his chest, hummed attentively and devoted, and his firm belief never wavered.

Proud and lofty, gentle and dazzling, low-key and gorgeous.

There is no need for eyes, no action, or even expression. Just sitting there quietly, the voice completes the narrative. Those vivid and profound emotional fragments flow slowly in the melody, forgetting the existence of everyone, but easily dragging everyone into his world.

Listen, his song is flying with wings.

"The noose is around my neck, they hang me up."

Suddenly, his nose was slightly sour, his sight was blurred, and a touch of sadness and loneliness echoed in his heart. His singing was so light and gentle, even with a smile on the corner of his mouth, he gently rose up and whispered, "noose around my neck, they hang me high. As he lay dying, the last sentence came to his ear: it won't be long before it's over. Unfortunately, I've traveled all over the world. "

Caught off guard, warm tears wet the corner of the eye, embarrassed, but in the end only a few.

Only those who have really experienced the Vietnam War, only those who have really experienced the 1960s, only those who are really scarred and weather beaten, only those who have really touched the core of the folk songs, and only those who have really calmed down to listen, can we hear the deep feelings in this low chant.

When freedom disappears, when dreams disappear, when persistence and belief disappear, they no longer exist. Even if they are alive, they are dead, just like walking corpses, wandering numbly. Those memories have become the past, deeply buried in the rotten soil. When spring comes, waiting for the time of blooming flowers.

"So hang me, oh, hang me, I will die soon."

Chest seems to be blocked with a mass of cotton, can't say, can't shout, even the tears in the corner of the eye have disappeared, just blurred the line of sight, leaving a halo in front of me.

On the stage, the figure is sitting peacefully, holding a guitar, humming, slightly raising his eyes, full of a halo of eyes, gently sweeping, you can see that the guests in the bar are concentrating on dining, no one cares about his performance, vaguely can hear the noise of the collision of dishes, but he does not care, the smile on the corner of his mouth is slightly pursed, The husky voice of vicissitudes guides the memory back to the past.

The audience who can really understand, however, is completely in the same place, deeply and deeply watching the figure. The beer in their hands has gradually become warm, the cigarette at their fingertips is almost burning to their fingers, and the coffee on the table has slowly lost its temperature... But their eyes are still reluctant to leave.

Patta, ash fell down like this, but nobody paid attention to it.

In the swirling smoke, time lost its meaning completely in the light and shadow. The simple chords and music composition are so simple that there is no new meaning. However, the magnificence and magnificence of the story make the language disappear completely. Just watch him and indulge in it slowly. If you indulge in it again, tomorrow will be left for tomorrow.

As for tonight? Even on the gallows, it doesn't seem to matter anymore. The important thing is, have you ever been to every corner of the world? Do you really have freedom and dream?

The eloquent narration is soft and light, just like elegant poems and moving legends, beating between the lips and teeth. Then you can hear him humming:

"Hang me, oh, hang me, I will die."