Dawn on the farm opens with the jubilant greetings of two dogs
Walking toward the old pine woods along the Siseon Hermitage trail,
I suddenly meet the bright, alert eyes of a mountain roe deer.
I look back at the tangerine trees I planted last spring in the stony field,
gently checking their color, patting them, encouraging them—
even the long, hot August sun is never enough for them.
Like a tiny mountain village where evening cooking smoke begins to rise,
like the sound of a church bell from a small tin-roofed chapel,
I gather my hands softly as another gentle day comes to a close.
