<h1>
  <pre>Counting the stars at night</pre>
</h1>
<pre>
             In            the sky        where seasons         pass Autumn                            fills the                    air<span>.</span>
                      And    ready                  I wait without                  worry               to count all the                <span>stars</span> she                bears<span>.</span>
   Now                the         reason        I cannot                   totally            all              the <span>stars</span> impressed             the morning soon comes<span>,</span>
          my youth<span>’</span>             not          quite done,             and           another night           still             lays                  in store<span>.</span>

One <span>star</span> for memories<span>,</span>                                                 and
               One <span>star</span> for loving
             One <span>star</span> for melancholy<span>,</span>                                        and
          Another for longing
      One <span>star</span> for poetry<span>,</span>                                                          and
  Another for ma<span>,</span> mother<span>,</span>

Mother<span>,</span> I will            try to name                                       all the <span>stars</span>          after beautiful                                words<span>:</span>
The names of               school friends I sat with<span>,</span> foreign girls like         Pae<span>,</span>        Kyeong and           Oak<span>;</span>
girls          who have            now         become            mothers and            other           poor        neighboring                folk<span>;</span>
the       pigeons<span>,</span>            the puppies<span>,</span>          the hares<span>,</span>              mules and deer<span>,</span>          the names           of          such poets               as Jammes               and Rilke<span>.</span>


Yet       all       of these people so                                                                      far away                                                                                                      now<span>.</span>
And            mother<span>,</span>            the <span>star</span><span>,</span>              is in Northern                Jiandao


                                                                                                                          Pining            for something
           I scribble                  my name
into                 a <span>star</span>                       spattered hill<span>.</span>
                              Then                          bury it                 (again<span>.</span>)


          As for the insect who wails through the                        night
on account of the pain of its name full of           shame<span>.</span>
                                                But                      winter              will                                  pass                      bringing                            spring                       to my <span>star</span><span>,</span>
                                                               As the tuft grows                        round gravestones                the grass will abound<span>.</span>
where my name has been buried in that <span>star</span> spattered mound<span>.</span></pre>
<h2>
  <pre>Yun Dong-Ju</pre>
</h2>
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