Rain falls on the spring-river, and free flowers
Drop and drift away,
Urgently, water rushes, washing
Away the filth in its sway.
On the Yeouido. Who will clean the nauseous
Objects with trashes' smelling?
Why the sky not hear the cries?
Sorrowful people's tears and crying.
(Apr.8th,2024, Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem