Yu Xinqiao's poems have a strong affectation. In his poems, he is great, he is the only one, he is the god who comes to inspect the work of the world, and he should feel the worship of every mediocre soul in that supreme place. But in his poems, you can read a kind of humbleness. This humbleness is my embarrassment in the face of sacred and great feelings, my grief and indignation at hitting a wall everywhere, and the sadness of a child who knows that he is actually just a child but refuses to wake up from his dream.
The difference between him and us is that with the growth of the rings, we woke up from that pretentious dream a long time ago, but Yu Xinqiao still stubbornly lived in that dream.