First...
 

The first camellia on bushes I planted three months ago. They are full of buds!!!

Here: A Korean poem

Camellia

Why would those folks
drag their boats
into the hills?
The skate is ripe, too ripe,
the hootch already gone from the jars.
With their little mudskippers in the buck
in tow and briny salt sacks stowed,
why would they weave paths through
rough reeds and trees
for the hills,
the hills?
In the name of that flower,
some other shore?
Along a path to see it,
along a path through mountain passages,
singing and crying,
they row into the hills.
The skate is ripe, too ripe,
inland spring gone too.
Why would they
want to walk these mountain trails?
I picked a rock from the path
and placed it on a pile of other prayers-
a camellia with its neck broken. [End Page 366]

Anyone else want to take on this, and write something about it????