Turbid wine doesn't like to send visitors' souls, so brothers are in pain. On the cold night of Mid-Autumn Festival, I shed tears, but I don't know what to do.

Mourn for my brother. Turbid wine doesn't like to send guests' souls, and brothers don't leave sorrow. On the cold night of Mid-Autumn Festival, they were in tears, and they didn't care about each other. It means mourning a friend who just died with turbid wine, expressing the author's depressed mood and the sadness of missing his brother. It's an original poem mourning my brother, a rain listener in the world of mortals.