In summer, in Britain, it is dawn at four in the morning, but the sunset is very late. It is close to ten o'clock around the summer solstice, but it is really dark after ten o'clock. Many Asian students can't adapt to this long day. It's getting dark, making dinner in summer will be messy, and it's not surprising that the kitchen is brightly lit at eleven or twelve o'clock. Walking in the street at ten o'clock at night is like dreaming-the sky is dark blue. It seems that dusk has just come. This is almost an incomplete white night. I joked with S that I got along well with the long day. It reminds me of Dostoevsky's White Night from time to time, and my fascination with White Night has finally stood up from the paper, though not completely.
Stevenson was born and raised in Edinburgh, Scotland, and his latitude is farther north than that of England. This little poem is a flower in his childhood memory garden. It should be said that this flower is quite beautiful and conspicuous. The whole poem comes from a child's perspective, and he/she thinks bitterly about why he/she still sleeps in broad daylight in summer. It's simple to sum up, but it's lovely to restore this simple question to a naive child's heart. This is the child's thinking. Summer is in a child's eyes, and other changes in nature are diluted in his/her eyes. What he/she cares about most is sleeping in broad daylight. Even when it's bedtime, he/she can't forget how much time he/she wasted playing. Night is day, and this puzzling magical moment is drawn by a child who doesn't want to sleep.
The letter "Yu Yu" 20 14- 12-09.