驼铃,黄沙,那些深浅不一的脚印,在历史的乐章上,印刻下一段动人的节奏,轻哼出回荡千年的天籁。彼时,你在那头,我在这头,却共同倾听着清风带来的这一路呢喃,也是在这条路上,我们相识,相知。如今,驼铃响过的地方早已立起高楼,黄沙吹过的城市开出片片花海。回响了千年的丝路传奇,在吉尔吉斯这片土地上开花结果,默默传承。而我,有幸在这片历史的广漠中,做一粒微小的 Camel bell, yellow sand, those footprints of different shades, in the history of the movement, India engraved a moving rhythm, gently humming a thousand years of Teana. At that time, you were on the other side of the road, but I listened to this road brought by the breeze and whispered this way. It is on this road that we meet and know each other. Now, the cauldron ring has long erected high-rise buildings, the city blowing yellow sand piece flowers. Echoed the legend of the Silk Road for thousands of years, blossom on the land of Kyrgyzstan, and silently handed down. And I, fortunate enough to make a small one in this vast history of history