Ureug'd played the gayageum, whether spring'd arrived or autumn'd departed,
Sorrowful destiny, he never visited his hometown where once departed.
The sorrowful songs of a lost country, he'd played and carried it on the river's flow,
Even now, when it rains, the old songs seems to be heard with woe.
(Mar.21st,2024. Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem