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Yonah Jeong Oct 26
I am
simply and clearly
I make poetry

I am
gibberish
I have chats.
Yonah Jeong Oct 25
Wood-colored wallpaper all around
On the old table and floor
Pale morning shadows move
Stains or
oil droplets on the water
dancing cheerfully
In the square chests of drawers
coins sing while bumping
and dance
this is how start the day
In the kitchen, little Samuel
clapping and laughing with mom
with rice paste glued to cheeks
with his hands spread wide
where finds daily bread,
In the kitchen
love overflows like a zipper
riding the train rails
to a safe emergency exit
where language of secret air runs wild
one fall morning in the kitchen
where all beings undress and re-dress
where the feeling of blessing
begins to knead the day
and even silence turns into gold,
our kitchen on the way to winter
that makes the future decorated
my Mother  laborious Hug
Stay here Forever.
Yonah Jeong Oct 25
the best translation is
the one
author and translator
neither of them
are greedy for work.
Yonah Jeong Oct 25
The highest value of literature is
imagination
The cultural imagination
It is
impossible to translate
because it can't be translated
The more try,
the more drive in
the quagmire of literature.
Yonah Jeong Oct 24
In the top right corner
a picture of the lighthouse
on four pins
On the left is a
the captain's steering wheel
and in the middle
below that
in front of a wooden wall
hundreds of years ago
hundreds of years ago
a child ship
In the centre of the landscape
a sails sewn with thread
7 blue curve waves like
a barbershop symbol
lighthouse,
in the picture
when it keep the ship moving?
Yonah Jeong Oct 24
next to a young maple tree
next to an elderly evergreen
standing facing each other

Autumn is passing
As winter approaches

the maple tree
in the calm morning breeze
like snow
fall on the evergreen's
red and reddish
Make it a young tree

In mid-October.
Yonah Jeong Oct 23
The river never moves
Slithering
Snake steps like a tortoise
while leaving traces
The river shows the way out

The old river water
falls over the dam
leaving behind shining smiles
to look at the eggs
The river shows us the EXIT

We don't know
The joy in hardship
Sandy fields
We are here for you
for you. What a beautiful breath!

Even if you only blink your eyes
The river, the old river,
the old river stir
The unwavering sea and the stars
and says, ‘Why do you love me?’
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