A found island in the rain / by Je Mijung
The wall of clouds that piled in silence,
has begun to crumble in a flash
While looking on the ruin of dark clouds through the window,
the leftover coffee’s getting cold,
and I feel the rain"s temperature from my finger"s tip.
The sound of the rain speaks to me,
a yearning resembling nonsense
A deluge of memory at fault choked all gutters,
In a moment, I lost my way and am now floating like a buoy.
I was unable to resist the pressure of the rain,
the weight of its yearning was even heavier,
and so I did not know what more easily floats,
though my weightless ego would decide it sailing
Let me be a paper boat.
Staggeringly plowing through the wild streaks of rain,
I"m sailing to my lost island now
The sound of the rain speaks to me, Sh!
My stagnated tears now flow into gutters unchocked.
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