In the backyard
the magnolia—
not yet fully opened—

after the long night
when the tornado-wind passed through
with its jealous breath,

must bear
the cold sleet
striking
until the whole heart bruises.

It is sorrowful,
like the wedding day
when a sister
must be sent away.

The old ones—
unable to endure
this jealous chill of spring—

fall again to the coughing illness
and cross
the narrow ford of life.

When the cold withdraws,

will they walk
that road of flowers
of the spring day
beyond us?

Along every path
where the village road reaches,

this jealous cold
pours tears
into the heart.

And shall we all
in white garments
stand along the road
to follow?

Now
in the spring field
soaked with tears,

dandelions
one by one
rise in the open ground
to comfort us.

And in the wind

white seeds
fill the sky.

As always,

the envy of spring
is only
a dream
of a single day.

Was it already
like this
yesterday?

— Tae Hun Yoon, March 16, 2026