Sang-Cheol, Han
White chrysanthemums laugh, underneath the stone wall,
The autumn breeze steals its pure fragrance away,
The crickets chirp and the humbly compete for beauty for their way.
Even when the moon tease, the frost is even remains pretty as a moll
(Translated by Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem