Poetry notes

In such a hot summer, only one person is not hot. (Of course, only I think), that is Meng Haoran. On a hot summer afternoon, when the weather is cool, he sits in his room. Lying on his back in his bed with messy hair.

Lotus fragrance wafts away, and dew drops on the bamboo.

Meng Haoran, our poet, smelled the aroma and listened to the ticking sound, so he wanted to take out his musical instrument and start playing.

But as soon as I took it out, I remembered that there was no bosom friend enjoying his wonderful flute. So he put down his instrument again.

At the thought of this, he remembered an old friend, his bosom friend, a long time ago. But these old friends are gone now.

He very much hopes that when he goes to bed at night, he can remember that this client is enjoying his music.

Enjoying his wonderful flute.

I felt the same way as Meng Haoran as soon as I saw these. I don't have a bosom friend to appreciate myself, and I don't have anyone to accompany me, only myself. Traveling alone is lonely.

I think this can be expressed by empathy.

I also thank Meng Haoran, the poet of this poem. It made me know myself. I need a bosom friend, someone to accompany me. Without these, you may be defeated by loneliness on your journey. Probably defeated by loneliness.