Going Away is Hometown
Returning is home
No matter how long we are apart
My hometown is my dream bed
Holding the mugwort with my hands
Our childhood
We were all exiled from here
The summer with the tip of the grass
As hot as my hometown
Busy days
Finally intoxicated by the festival
Returning, tugging at the tail line of the sun
The sound of the countryside is gently pulled up
The wheel of the year is speculated between the corners of the eyes
The bleak old house
Piled up with testimonies of childhood
The stories of those late night visits
Interrupting the long memories of the night
A glass of wine warms up the past
A word that lengthens the long-lost words
The poems copied away by the north wind
are always returned by migratory birds again and again
On the low wall in front of the door
A big exclamation mark waiting to be retrieved by the countryside
The stream washes away the years
The distant past has been polished into stone
Only the roots of childhood
are still deeply rooted in
On this barren land
About the Creator
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