Deep in the middle of the Korean mountains
Spirits like smoke are rising up.
Under a fearsome phosphorescence
A living being is trying to move.

Mourning and repentance is spilling out on the earth.
Groanings of appeal are reaching out to heaven, and
Tears flowing ceaselessly make me forget who I am.

This is the place, ChungPyung.
Cold, cold water cleanses my dirty flesh,
Cutting deep like a flaming sword.
My sins and sinful past are sawed off
By the claps of bleeding palms.

This is the spiritual battlefield,
A white battleground, against my old self.
My two eyes stare at the unseeable enemies within myself,
And aim at them with an angel's spear.

It is an extremely gruesome and tense battlefield, but
I wish not to bequeath defects to my descendants.
Only a repenting spirit who is willing to suffer
Will survive on the frontline of the all-out offensive.
I am standing on that field today.

This might be the new seat of mercy, ChungPyung Holy Ground.

Rev. Inhoi Lee Chung Pyung Lake, Jan. 25, 1997

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