Su Leya, born on August 9th in Bailingmiao Town, Damaoqi, Baotou City, Inner Mongolia, is a Chinese Mongolian female singer and actress. He is now a soloist in Wulanchabu County, Wulanchabu City, Inner Mongolia, a literary volunteer in China, a member of China Musicians Association, a member of Inner Mongolia Musicians Association, and a vice chairman of Inner Mongolia Network Writers Association. She graduated from the Central College of Cultural Management Cadres.
Representative works: Song is Flying, Lassa Rains at Night, Love Slave, The Brightest Travel in the Sky, Dream Back to the Prairie, Love Swamp, True Love Letting Go, Youth by the Stream, etc.
Lyrics:
The road to the sky is connected with the lake of memory.
The glittering palace protects the pious steps.
In front of the Buddha with lotus flowers in full bloom, I felt the light of kindness.
Pray for the missed ivy, and slowly climb the window of dreams.
The midnight drizzle in Lhasa rang the bell of the soul.
Walking under the call of the morning bell and the evening drum, walking on the nearest road to you.
The drizzle in Lhasa at midnight moistened the meditation room of the soul.
Looking at the ancient Buddha figure with blue lanterns, thinking about the night of your face.
The moonlight is like a watery night, and the sky is raining.
The Sanskrit, which smokes from the kitchen, soothes the sadness of parting.
Fragments of clothes with scattered wings are dripping with silent injuries.
Pray that the love of three lives will grow quietly in a carefree paradise.
The midnight drizzle in Lhasa rang the bell of the soul.
Walking under the call of the morning bell and the evening drum, walking on the nearest road to you.
The drizzle in Lhasa at midnight moistened the meditation room of the soul.
Looking at the ancient Buddha figure with blue lanterns, thinking about the night of your face.
The moonlight is like a watery night, and the sky is raining.
The Sanskrit, which smokes from the kitchen, soothes the sadness of parting.
Fragments of clothes with scattered wings are dripping with silent injuries.
Pray that the love of three lives will grow quietly in a carefree paradise.
The midnight drizzle in Lhasa rang the bell of the soul.
Walking under the call of the morning bell and the evening drum, walking on the nearest road to you.
The drizzle in Lhasa at midnight moistened the meditation room of the soul.
Looking at the ancient Buddha figure with blue lanterns, thinking about the night of your face.
The midnight drizzle in Lhasa rang the bell of the soul.
Walking under the call of the morning bell and the evening drum, walking on the nearest road to you.
The drizzle in Lhasa at midnight moistened the meditation room of the soul.
Looking at the ancient Buddha figure with blue lanterns, thinking about the night of your face.
Night when I miss your face, night when I miss your face.
Reference to the above content: Baidu Encyclopedia -Surya Qigege