[Afternoon Poem] Jeongwon's Schedule / Yoon Jae-rim

We no longer know the schedule of Jeongwon in Building 102, Unit 304.

When a comrade comes and calls out, "Jeongwon, Jeongwon,"

he stretches his neck out from the veranda,

"Today, I went to kindergarten,

and I have to go to my maternal grandmother's house.

I’ll be back around four o’clock, see you then."

Every day at the same time,

in a voice loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear,

they asked about their friend's schedule,

jang, jang, jang... announcing their own route,

the conversations of the young comrades

are no longer heard.

We are deeply curious about the whereabouts of Jeongwon and his friends,

already missing them, like the protagonists of a just-ended drama.

The bright xylophone sounds that lit up our ears,

"Jeongwon, Jeongwon,"

when the morning sunlight spreads evenly,

we want to become friends and call out,

"Jeongwon, Jeongwon."

Like the Pope of the Vatican appearing on the balcony for the pilgrims,

Jeongwon and his friends who appeared on time,

their faces

are no longer visible.

We no longer know Jeongwon’s schedule.

■ "Kyungryul, let’s play, Dongseong, let’s play..." The calls of the Kkaebokjaengi friends ringing loudly in every alley of every neighborhood after school. When two gather, they play ttakji (Korean paper tile game), when three gather, they play marbles, when four or five gather, they play dabanggu (a Korean tag game), rubber band jumping, malttukbakgi (a Korean game of knocking down sticks), share jjondeu (a type of candy), suck on Apollo candy, play "Why did you come to my house?" flower-finding games, chase butterflies when they see them, follow the disinfectant truck running to other neighborhoods, and when the sun sets, they part at their mothers’ calls, reluctantly looking back and making promises again and again. Friend, let’s play again tomorrow! Tomorrow, for sure! ? Poet Chaesangwoo

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.