[One Thousand Characters a Day] Kim Youngrang's 'May Morning'
May morning after the rain, the oriole's lonely song
- Brilliant sunlight spreads and rises
Drizzle wets the dawn,
The cuckoo's heart-wrenching cry, a blood-tinged sob,
A bowl of old incense scent, how can this heart not be stirred at this time,
In this morning light, the young inner leaves reaching to the sky are so soft,
At that nest, the titmouse's ankle making a chirping sound is tender,
After folding, the crumpled thoughts now seem to be all gently soothed
The oriole shakes the blue sky again,
Lavishly making the proud new sky
Only after discarding the smell of morphine does being forty become a pride,
The soul not called by the oriole in the morning is a heart the dawn cuckoo cannot catch,
Even if the midday is serene, what else is there to do
That oriole seems to be a diligent boy,
The dawn cuckoo is a long middle-aged man,
I am a person proud of being forty
- Kim Young-rang, <May Morning>
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