Adapted My Brother on a Moonlit Night into an essay.

The building rang louder than the drums and pedestrians on the road were blocked. On the edge of autumn, there came the plaintive cry of lonely geese. Today is the Millennium. Suddenly I think of my brothers in the distance, miss the moon very much, and feel that the moon in my hometown is rounder and brighter. Poor brothers, but far apart. If there is no home, where can I ask if I am dead or alive? Letters sent at ordinary times are often unable to arrive, not to mention the war and the rebellion has not subsided.