In the valley of Seoul the flags wave,
On the bed of Winter the memories seek,
In the air of wanting the old ones cry.
How does one know he lives as a dream?
Stare into the space and cry...
Oh, wow, OH! GEE! that's really tough to see.
While sketching the sky with a pink brush.
Nine angels fly high!
Sunshine, peace, love, hope, justice, wisdom, vitality, humanity,
courtesy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem