Ten Days in Magic Land is the first solo album of Cold Fairyland singer and founder, LinDi. Inspired by a collection of poems by Chen Song and commissioned by zhong ruan master Liu Xing, Ten Days in Magic Land introduces a traditional Chinese musical element into Cold Fairyland’s dark and mysterious sound.
From the opening jubilation of The Blessed Place, Ten Days in Magic Land is a fantastic vignette depicting the exotic, mysterious, and sensual inner world of a poet. The darkly majestic and magical “Mirror Theater”, the chilling “Desperate Flower in Your Hand”, and the programatic excellence of “The Flood” have become staples of the Cold Fairyland repertoire and were all featured on the live album.
Repentance Day sounds like a dark secret, a melancholy dream, a confession vividly told with wistful regret. A plaintive flute plays a lovely solo before the superlative ending. The guitar and bass stop, there is just a held chord in the strings. A distant church bell tolls fifteen times as LinDi delivers a powerful yet personal and deeply moving coda. The song is so smooth and flowing, the odd five four time signature is never obtrusive.
A tireless obligato toils behind the scene in “Slaves”. The soft surrender of LinDi’s wordless melody is the siren’s song that lures the travelers into slavery. It is a melody that lingers like a lover’s perfume. There is a sunset in the strings, and the synth sets the first stars to twinkling.
“The Flood” is a beautiful piece of program music. After simulating thunder in the distance, the drums begin a martial figure, the inexorable march of the flood. The notes from LinDi’s pipa splatter like the first angry raindrops. The river is raging, the cymbals are splashing, faster and stronger till it spills over it’s banks and dives back into the glorious theme.
Those are but a few highlights of an outstanding album that marks the evolution of an underground rock band into something more. Something unique.
Something that might best be described as magic.
Here is an English translation of the poetry of Ten Days in Magic Land:
The First Day: The Blessed Land
Ten thousand years in the eastern sky
the sun and the moon will simultaneously shine
the animals will sing together in jubilation
One thousand mountains, One hundred rivers
The white-feathered bird circles
Bamboo forest, wise & elegant
Travelers forget their weariness
Rushing toward the heart’s destination
heaven of heavens,
The Second Day: Repentance Day (Shrove Tuesday)
For all the crimes I have committed
please, forgive me.
Since I have yielded to fate from the struggle’s betrayal
your blood warms my cold heart.
For all my avarice
please, forgive me.
How many abandoned dreams, what freedoms destroyed
are held in these hands?
Longing for the souls’ sweet release
never to come back.
For everything I used to be
please, forgive me.
In this world
I am not the saddest person.
When suffering eyes suddenly touch my heart,
please, double my pain.
The Third Day: Dance of Seduction
Gentle breeze blowing from the south of snow mountain
lavish and luxurious palaces
float above the rainbow.
Crystal , Alpine Flower
silver flash from ankle and wrist
Virgin’s dance of seduction
beautiful and graceful dance
the thin gauze skirt is partially transparent
the air at this juncture is filled with knowing glances
Ghost to haunt the meantime
with the eternal Eros
The Fourth Day: A Desperate Flower in Your Hand
When the hole in time is here
the silence already decayed
the heart fills with memories
and secret breath surrounds
I just want to be a flower
growing quietly in your hand
I dream I am a pure white flower
quietly dying in your hand.
The Fifth Day: Dusk on the Deep Green Prairie
ripples on the water count the silence of a millennium
until the woolen ball at the rope’s end falls into the stranger’s hand
the sound of cow hooves in mud
coming to meet the clouds
up and down the sky.
A strange vibration emits from the center of the earth
On Pluto, the frustrated lover awakes
my frozen eyes thawed
saw angels circling the moat.
All around grow the flowers, weeds and grain
Descendants of thought, countless abstract children
grow when the concrete god’s eyes are closed.
The rhythm of unusual words
the death of music
the soaring of color
the transparency of the body
the pleasure and the pain
As the sun goes down on this grassland green
we watch this moment in time
time and possibility, past and present
that will return.
The Sixth Day: Slaves
The secret finally revealed,
but we can not recall -
what magic spell
has captured us here.
One with a harp in hand
and an enchanted siren’s song
stole our impulse for flight
and we fell into the trap
that opened under foot.
The Seventh Day: Mirror Theater
The moment full of metaphor
Mirror and shadow
Personally caved masks
pasted on each others faces
The ceremony began
running and dancing
torches tremble in fear
the creeping and wormlike touch
ultimately interpreted as
the end of hostility.
These short deaths only mirror happiness
The Eighth Day: The Flood
People begging for water
this is their punishment
not reproducing for hunger and thirst.
They kneel in the river bed,
the dry, split open bed,
grinding the butcher’s knife
preparing to sacrifice an ancient cow.
These people live and die for water
They are born of mud and silt.
By water abandoned, these sons and daughters of water
on this day,
cease their killing fight.
The animal skin drum beats lightly
the rains begin to come
the animal skin drum beats lightly
The Ninth Day: Wake
Along the slope, the incline covered with sand
Sliding or falling down
Panicked and fled
in the humid air
Is hiding father's eye
The Soil Giant's fingers
capture their prey
The smell of corruption
Remains on the lips
The Carnival for the moon
A glass of water
difficult to identify.
At the birth of fire
fragments scattered in the surroundings
which one becomes the boat that carries Spring?
which one is looking for the labyrinth?
freezes or melts ...
Death also is born
slowly extends it’s wings
and languidly looks
outside the window.
That anemic old man
curls up in a tree
The hand that holds poetry
believes the dream as truth
the tomb for which he waits
is the tomb of time
no more exits.
The Tenth Day: Reincarnation
Sitting quietly in front of their own home,
they watch the passers-by.
They quarrel at the hot market
and do not forget their drunkenness.
When the sun is eclipsed
Their noble and the vulgar skulls
Who could expect
they squeezed into the dream hotel
and tossed their fate aside.
They had to seriously consider
the special program,
every detail disguised.