The Green Grapes Poem by Kinsley Lee

Ryug-sa, Lee

July in my home town
The green grapes are ripening season

On this town, the legends are hanging to ramble and the sky,
In the far away, are stuck in berry after berry

If the blue sea opens the bosom, under the sky,
And the white sailboat slides in graciously,

Then the guest whom I'm longing for, with the weary body,
Will visit me with the azure overcoat, they say.

If I will meet him, and pick and eat this grapes
Then it will be, good for me, fully dampened my two hands