Poetry

If your heart still retains that innocence

If the floating dust in the city doesn't cover your soul

If you are a child coming out of a ravine in a mountain village

You should be familiar with this scene

Familiar with this frail figure

........................................................................................ Cattle farming? Field? Barefoot

the shabby straw hat and the narrow ridge ...

How much he looks like his father

The ancient well where the morning sun has not yet fallen on the head of the village

The rice field that has been ploughed and plowed for decades

I have already heard his voice reprimanding the cattle

This voice is more clear than the cuckoo who announced the spring news

The sweat is more attentive than the ox who has never been silent. The poor straw hat without texture

covered his youth

that faded away for a family

that unpolished nail

became thick and hard

He once knitted, supported and cultivated

the hopes and longings of a family

How fragile life is, and how tough he looks

... Regardless of fatigue? Brave the wind and rain

March forward step by step in a straight line

He is so cute, simple and stupid

An untiring ox

He is just like his father

Or he is the name of selfless love!

............................................................................................................................................................................ 8:? To all the fathers in the world!