Now I’m off to the beach for a walk.

The sea our fathers didn’t know, can you go there?

Now I’m off to the beach of the nothing sea.
I crossed the road, and passed a kindergarten and street trees,

a clustered fish market, a sawmill, and a used bookstore.

Now I’m crossing a four-lane crosswalk and the road of wickedness.

I leave Dancheong pavilion carrying a beach umbrella

and go beyond the wasteland to the shore where beach roses bloom.
From beyond that sand field, the sea with the morning sun behind its back

is also taking a walk in my direction. Standing up waves before the wind,

we’re determined not to make a move even if we run into each other.

We won’t mix words or date.
The sea isn’t yet in sight.

It looks like the sea doesn’t want to be seen.

To be honest, I still haven’t seen the Earth’s seas.

Only my eyes have seen the sea, not me.

And the seas haven’t seen me.

So we are looking for a path where we don’t meet.
The sea shimmering a ray of gold.

The morning ocean rises closer, a morning where what can be seen is seen.

How do we go from here? Please teach me the way.

I don’t want to open my eyes. I still don’t want to wake.