A rainbow rests within a granite bowl,
Where Bibimbap begins to feed the soul.
With golden yolk and vegetables in line,
The sizzle makes the hungry heart incline.
The scent of Bulgogi begins to rise,
A smoky sweetness under Seoul's gray skies.
While Kimchi waits, fermented, sharp, and red,
A fiery punch that wakes the sleepy head.
In bubbling pots of Jjigae, rich and deep,
The secrets of a thousand grandmas keep.
With silken tofu, soft as morning dew,
And seafood broth that warms you through and through.
On rainy days, the Pajeon starts to fry,
A savory pancake beneath a weeping sky.
With scallions long and batter crisp and gold,
A story of the harvest, proudly told.
Then Tteokbokki, in sauce of glowing heat,
Where chewy rice cakes meet the busy street.
From royal courts to stalls of bright neon,
The flavors of the ages carry on.