Four Seasons of Watermill
Watermill, Watermill, Watermill
At the entrance of Seoul National University
A watermill that goes back to alone
In the spirit of spring earth
Forcefully turn the watermill
In the summer heat and rainy season
Don't get tired and turn around
When the autumn wind blows
In the falling leaves
Get your feet back on the watermill
When the cold winter approaches
Your whole body is surrounded by icicles
When looking at the resting watermill
Turn the watermill vigorously even in your heart
Waiting for a new spring
To come and to turn the watermill again
If I could just step back in time
I'd sojourn by a waterfall, and every morning
I'd drink of all the beauty and the mystery
that it affords. I'd note with gratitude
the little watermill, and for its silent slave
the ponderous millstone grinding endlessly.
I'd sing the praises of what might have been.
The peace that finally decided to remain--
that donned the robes of nevermore,
a fitting tribute to a war whose only spoils
were obsolescence, sacrifice and pain.
The master poets might just move a bit
along the bench to make a little
space for me to take my place among them,
though this is merely flight of fantasy
the sun could never shine upon.
It could, however, flame the skies
with joys we do not even know. More,
they will surely owe their genesis
to us, not air or space or star.
I see subjunctive journeying as its own eponymn...
another tool of consciousness to say:
"It is not time for rest. Seek on."
~
River Bank Cottage...............
There are days within my life thus far,
I would gladly leave behind.
Though the day we saw this lovely place,
Will never leave my mind.
River Bank Cottage, is up for sale,
Was the sign we saw that day.
And what I saw before my eyes,
Truly took my breath away.
Ivy covered window-sills,
Tulips by a stream.
Water that sparkled like cold champagne,
Befitting any dream.
Crocus in abundance,
And the daff's bright endless glow.
An old dishevelled watermill,
Where the silent waters flow.
Hearing cuckoos in the distance,
Scents of spring-time on the breeze.
The untamed shadows from the sun,
Danced among the willow trees.
Heaven on earth we saw that day,
Happiness so true.
I knew this place before our eyes,
Was meant for me and you..........
In the night the marsh cricket cries,
Ringing through the starless still
A song of aurora skies.
A pale gray moon, listening, sighs,
No wind rippling the watermill
In the night the marsh cricket cries.
Shearing the dark a lost bird flies,
The melody shivers in the chill
A song of aurora skies.
Hours before forgotten sunrise,
Ants dare venture from their hill
In the night the marsh cricket cries.
Beneath the marsh water millions of eyes,
Shameless creatures drink in their fill
A song of aurora skies.
There are no fears, there are no lies
They cannot understand this thrill
In the night the marsh cricket cries
A song of aurora skies.
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