-In Memory of the Air-Force Pilot, the Father Myung-Ryul Park, and his Son In-Chul Park…
The hillside is dusky when the sun set in the west,
The riverbank the road lights flash on the dandy creased
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In early morning, whenever open the eyes,
It flows that the unrecoverable old stories, suddenly.
The autumn airs are whirling like the spring tides,
The regrets and sorrows surges upon to me.
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Sah-Eon, Yang
Even the Tae-mountain is high,
But the limit is the sky.
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Dong-Ju, Yoon
On the night of the day when I came back
At same room, my skeleton was running after and lying
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Dong-Ju, Yoon
The white washcloth is wrapped the black brains.
The white rubber shoes are hung on the rough feet.
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At dawn, through the open window embrace,
Whispers of weeping voices reach to my bed.
But down the park, to the grove I tread, where
The chorus of insects' hushes, silence spread.
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Hyung-Sig, Kim
The heavy rains are coursing
Down, it's the softened noodles of string.
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Sang-Chul, Han
As seeing the sooth skins, I feel the lust stealthy.
The breasts are muffled in ten thousand layers, by which the Poppy
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Sang-Cheol, Han
The vivid yellow nipple and the hairs were hinted on the armpit.
Unconsciously grating the ink stick for writing a love-mourn song.
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