Worry of the Late Winter River

In late winter at Han river, the midday sunrays warmly giggle,

On the long thawed riverbank, the wind’s warm and green hues wiggle.

Above the water, ducks and geese pass busily through the space,

In the middle of the river, motorboats stir up foam as they race.

The mountains already briskly prepare to welcome spring,

But in the human world, folly lost in past, they cling,

Hidd’n old angler quietly reel off the line and sip a drink,

While fine dust arrives with the wind, to darken the sky and to sink.

(Apr. 17^th, 2024, Kinsley Lee)