Mountain Hut
by RI Kohr
Selected Poems
Village Journey
Hut
When was the last time I visited here?
It is now near the end of summer, and once it was the end of autumn.
A misty rain was falling in that small hut.
I held my hands over the stove to dry my shoes.
Young me, all those who were young.
Ah, I have always wished for a scene like that day.
A bright fire, hot tea, and a hard chair.
If only those things could last.
I have thought many times that most of my life would have been fulfilled.
Until today.
It is a lively place I visited for the first time in a long time.
People's voices are coming and going, and corn is being sold outside.
It is difficult to think of the dark, gloomy sky of a long time ago.
It is not that my heart is troubled now, but the dark scenery of the past may be me.
But the stove burning red in the center of it is infinitely nostalgic and dear.
My beloved, I walked from here.
