Hugging in my heart a dream,
hazy and traceless,
I lean like a child on the gate
and gaze at the sky where clouds pass.
I stand on tiptoe to reach the sky-rim
only to find no path for my dreams.
Clouds scud back and forth across the blue
that stays forever constant.
Like a root stirring with life,
like a faithful heart that never fails,
dreams will bloom in the thorny path of memory
as the green grass sprouts in the stony fields.
translated by Jaihiun Kim & Ronald B. Hatch