THE NIGHT BEFORE CHUSEOK
‘Twas the night before 추석, when all through the 집
Not a sound could be heard, not a cicida’s cheep;
The spam boxes were stacked in the cupboard with care,
In hopes that the relatives soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Songpyeon danced in their heads;
While mom in her perm, and I in armsleeves,
Had started to nap neath the old hanok eaves,
When out on the street there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The streetlight reflection from smoggy night sky
Gave the lustre of noon to my gazing eye,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an adjeoshi carrying soju and beer!
A little old man, so lively and quick,
At scarfing down ramyeon to avoid being sick.
He spoke not a word, but went straight at his work,
Drinking and eating and then with a jerk,
He turned down the hill and gave a light whistle,
Dancing into the night like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy 추석 to all, and to all a good-night.”
UPDATED on Chuseok, along lines suggested by the Gypsy Scholar..