But not to the home of my longing
Wild pheasants brood eggs,
And cuckoos call in season,
But the heart doesn’t have a hometown-
A cloud floating toward distant harbour
Even today when I climb alone
to the end of the mountain,
White-flecked flowers warmly smile,
While grass flutes blown in my youth
yield no sound-
on parched lips, so bitter.
Home, I’ve come home;
But only the sky of my longing
is a lofty blue!
(Jeong Ji-Yong)
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Based on Topics: Home Poems, Smiling PoemsBased on Keywords: pheasants