This whole world of beauty and unrest was revealed to me through Daniyar's song. Where did he learn all this, who told him all this? I understood that such love for his land could have come only from someone who longed for it with his whole heart of many years; who earned this love through suffering. As he was singing, I could see him - a small boy, wandering along the roads in the steppe. Was it then that the songs about homeland were born in his soul? Or was it when he was marching the fiery miles of the war?
Listening to Daniyar, I wanted to fall on the ground and firmly, like a son, embrace it - if only because it could inspire such love in a person. For the first time I felt inside me the awakening of something new, something I couldn't even name yet, but it was something irresistible, the need to express myself, yes, express - not just see and feel the world myself, but to bring my vision, my thoughts and feelings to others; to tell people about the beauty of our land with as much inspiration as Daniyar had. I was trembling with unexplained fear and happiness for something unknown. But back then I haven't yet realized that I needed to take up a paintbrush.
This was a man deeply in love. He was in love, I felt, not just with another person; it was a different, enormous love - love for life, for the land. Yes, he saved this love in himself, in his music; he lived for this love. An indifferent person could not have sung like that, no matter how good of a voice he had.