Dividing the city with a ribbon of blue,
Where the old world of Seoul meets the glitter of new.
The Han River flows with a steady, calm grace,
Reflecting the soul of a fast-moving place.
Under the arches of the Banpo Bridge light,
Where the rainbows of water dance into the night.
The fountains are singing a song for the stars,
Above the rush of the trains and the cars.
The Yeouido banks where the cherry trees bloom,
Chasing away the last winter's gloom.
With picnics on blankets and bikes on the trail,
Where every young dreamer has a story to tell.
From the heights of Namsan, she looks like a thread,
With the lights of the bridges in gold and in red.
A mirror for skyscrapers reaching so high,
To touch the pale edge of the soft Korean sky.
Through the "Miracle" years of the struggle and rise,
She watched with her ancient and watery eyes.
A witness to history, to sorrow and pride,
With the hopes of a nation tucked deep in her tide.
Though the city may sleep and the neon may fade,
The Han remains constant in light and in shade.
The heartbeat of Korea, the flow of the land,
Carved by the grace of a powerful hand.