Though I strive not to gaze through the binocular into the past
Before drawing flowers for the future that is yet to come to pass,
Nevertheless, I am forced to borrow paints from those bygone years
And water my flowering plants with groundswell of tears.
The road to future is a road tarred with past experiences and pain
The pleasant ones and the bad ones that we along the way gained,
But since I don’t wish to blow myself up with feelings of buoyancy or regret
I aspire to forget that background so as to preserve my self-interests.
But then I realized that the road that we traversed in the past
Is a labyrinth of intricate network interwoven and vast,
These roads have a tendency to latch on with us unaware
Though we may aspire to digress from its everyday affairs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem