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Painted by Kang Jang-won (Mudeung Mountain in Gwangju, Korea)
Gazing at Mudeung Mountain by Seo Jeong-ju
Poverty is no more than tattered rags.
Can it cloak our inborn flesh, our natural heart
like the summer mountain
that stands baring its dark green back to the dazzling sun?
As the green mountain tends to orchids under its knees,
all we can do is nurture our offspring.
Husbands and wives,
as you meet the afternoon
when life retreats and gets swept up in rough waves,
once in a while sit down,
once in a while lie next to each other.
Wives, gaze silently at your husbands.
Husbands, touch also your wives’ foreheads
Even when we lie in the pit of a thorn bush,
we should always remember that we are just gems, buried alone,
thickly covered with green moss.
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