I leap out of bed filled with excitement, for today is the Seollal Festival.
Before me lies a royal blue silk trouser and shirt outfit, the color symbolising prosperity.
It shimmers in the sun light streaming through my window,
Glistening like the majestic Donghae Ocean of Korea.

When I enter the living room accompanied by my father,
I see my grandfather sitting on the couch.
His hanbok a vibrant yellow, with beautiful patterns,
As effulgent as the six golden crowns of the Silla Dynasty.
My eyes are transfixed on my grandfather’s pockets,
Where the Sebaetdon is clearly visible, despite his attempt to hide it from my sight.
I eagerly volunteer to be the first to sabae (bow) to my maternal and paternal grandparents,
As I am well aware of how the sabae will conclude.
Everything goes according to my devious plan, 
And each of my grandparents rewards me with a Sebaetdon of a satisfying weight.
With a cheeky grin on my face, I stuff them into the deep pockets of my hanbok.

The adults most awaited part of the festival approaches, 
Cuisine to occupy their growling stomachs,
Tteokguk, a traditional soup comprised of sliced rice cakes, beef and egg,
Along with other ingredients which my tongue can’t identify.
I release a sigh of pleasure as I drain the final drops of soup from my bowl.

Retrieving my traditional kite from the store room,
I head outside, where it transforms into a fierce dragon which roams the clouds fearlessly,
Dashing into the green rice paddies where the crops bow to the powerful wind,
I watch as my dragon kite flutters behind me, embracing the wind majestically.
Only when the sun sets, will my kite fall in exhaustion.

At night, as I I drift off to tomorrow,
I glance at my cupboard, which is once more, in possession of my hanbok,
Only to be released at the next Seollal Festival,
When I will be again be reminded of its glory.   

hanbok- A traditional Korean outfit
Sebaetdon-  Money given by the seniors when the Saebae occurs