waist bending

▲ Reporter Jeong Ki-hoon

Before dawn in winter, a small boat churned into the harbor and unloaded flounder, moray eel, and flounder. Human hands are busy with washing, grooming, and sorting. Bend your back a lot. That person’s labor, which resembles the ridge of Mount Taesan, is the power to serve another meal today, warm rice. It is the power that fed, clothed, and taught all the children that were attached one after another. The money came from that crooked waist over there to buy a spacesuit for his twitching grandchildren. Rice came out of rough fingertips, which were bruised in the middle of winter, without a day to dry. Today at the Gwanghwamun Crossroads in Seoul, and on the streets of Yeouido on the way to work, people in neat winter coats bend over and praise humility. When it comes to the time of the campaign or the moment of crisis, it is always the same, and people think that the time of choice has come. all kinds of words it’s a sacrament A world where everyone can eat and live well is already in there. People who go to work to break through the windy road between the buildings, fasten their collars and bow their heads. On the outside wall of the bookstore in front of it, it is written that humility is the angle of the heart, not the angle of the head. No entry. The square in front of which once overflowed with candles is now under construction. Gathering prohibited. People who can’t get together launch a covert operation to find gaps. There are people who say that a lot has changed, and that nothing has changed. The family of the deceased who went to work again today and returned to work bows to greet him after the press conference. I bow my head in remembrance.


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