While I am reading my new poem,
Several days after its completion,
It strangely doesn't seem to be mine,
But a reflection of someone else.
Alarmed, I search it more deeply
And get more restless when I see
A pair of eyes different from my own
Staring intently at me, and then, ..
..As if I hear my mother's voice,
Calling me out from those lines,
'O, why do you search for me elsewhere,
I am in your words, can't you hear? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem