The ancient tower stands covered in thick moss, guarding the temple\'s grounds,
As the golden waves of autumn overflow on the fields and mounds,
The rainfall on Hallasan fattens the cattle and they’re winding in a row.
And the wind from the South-sea helps the fruit on the branches grow.
Underneath the trees, busily farmers\'re working and harvesting,
While dreams of birds in the wood-side are quietly soaring and moving.
The path beside the stone wall is filled with sweet aroma,
And in the silent houses, child\'s reciting poems are echoing the loma.
(Mar., 20th, 2024. Kinsley Lee)