Miscellaneous records on Korean poetry, culture, and more.

Stars                                    By Gong Jae-dong On a joyful night, there wasn't a single one— not a single one. But on a day of sorrow, the sky is filled with stars. Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? On a night when I want to weep, there are stars in my heart, too. The whole world is stars. ----------------- < Reflecting on a Poem> On the night of October 2nd, the stars were so bright that I decided to take some photos of the night sky. While doing so, I was reminded of a poem about stars that I used to recite in my youth. Back then, although I experienced plenty of happiness, I also seemed to grapple with a sense of despair and discouragement I couldn't quite explain. Whenever I felt that way, I would look up at the sky and offer up a prayer—or perhaps something that wasn't quite a prayer. This is one of the poems that would come to mind as I gazed at the sky, steeped in so...

 A Letter from Sorokdo                                                       By Jeong Ho-seung With arms that are not arms, I embrace you; With feet that are not feet, I go to you. Wild camellias bloom on the wild camellia trees; With hands that are not hands, I gather the blossoms— Petal by petal, I set them afloat upon the sea; please receive them. Along the seashore where we once walked— You, with arms that are not arms wrapping around my waist, And feet that are not feet moving in step with mine— Come striding toward me now, following the path of camellia petals. * Sorokdo is an island off the southern coast of Korea where people with Hansen's disease once lived in a community. In the past, access was difficult, requiring a boat ride once or twice a day, but a bridge has since been built, making it easy to visit this beautiful island. It is...

  24-Hour Convenience Store 1                                     By Choi Young-mi Drop by whenever it suits you, wherever your feet or gaze may lead; just kill the engine and pull up anywhere. I’ll be there. Even without a flower-decked palanquin, wearing rouge on my cheeks and forehead, keeping the lights burning all through the night, I’ll be waiting for you. --------------------------------- <About the Author> Choi Young-mi (born September 25, 1961) is a South Korean poet and novelist. Her debut poetry collection, *At Thirty, the Party Is Over*, created a major sensation in Korean society with its language—at once delicate and bold—and a fresh realism that confronted life in the here and now. According to literary critic Choi Won-sik, "Choi Young-mi is an unfortunate poet who failed to receive proper recognition because the immense success of her debut collection caused her to be ove...

Walking Together                              By Park Seong-ryong Two people have walked a long, distant path, Yet only a single set of footprints remains. Traversing paths of enchanting blossoms and hacking through thorny thickets, Climbing up and down low hills and towering mountains— Whenever one’s gaze wandered, The other would lead the way, bringing us to this point. Along the parallel rails of a journey That was at times joyful and at others wearying, The seasons have quietly turned, And autumn flowers have begun to bloom. ------------------ About the Author          Park Seong-ryong (Poet) Born in 1932 in Haenam, South Jeolla Province              Department of English Literature, Chung-Ang University 1964 Hyundae Literary Award 1982 Poetry Literature Award 1989 PEN International (Korean Center) Literary Award 1992 Republic of Korea Literary Award...

  A Single Jujube                 By Jang Seok-ju It could not have turned red all on its own. Inside it lie a few typhoons, Inside it, a few peals of thunder, Inside it, a few strikes of lightning. It could not have rounded out all by itself. Inside it lie nights of biting frost, Inside it, months of scorching sun, Inside it, days of the crescent moon. -------------- From the poetry collection *The Deeply Red Tiger* (Jang Seok-ju, *Aeji*, 2005) Selected as a "Fine Poem" by readers in the Winter 2009 issue of *Sihaneul(PoemSky)* ----------------------------------------------------- < Reflection > In the yard stands a jujube tree—unlike the one in Jang Seok-ju’s poem—that simply thrives. I am so grateful for it. It bears large, plump fruit, too. Let’s brew some delicious jujube tea again this year! I’ll melt away the winter chill of the Gangwon-do mountains with the rich, fragrant warmth of jujube tea!   Thanks to you, I’m gett...

Why I Don't Say Anything               By Yoo Hyun-ah If I tell Mom, we just don't see eye to eye, And if I tell my teacher, things get blown out of proportion.

 Illicit Love                                                 by Oh Bong-ok I become a torrential downpour, pounding down upon my own head, to sever the heart that longs to reach you. I become a germ, burrowing into the raw edges of my wounds, to reignite the fire of desire for you. A dozen times a day, I rush forward, wondering if there is anything in this world that isn't a sin. I leave bloody footprints against the towering thorn-hedge that bars the way to you, only to realize—*no, this isn't right*—and turn back. I erase the footprints left by that solitary retreat. Afraid—terrified—that you, too, might stumble and plunge into those traces. About the Author (OH Bong ok) Born in Gwangju in 1961.  Studied Korean Language and Literature at the Yonsei University Graduate School. Made his literary debut in 1985 by publishing "Within My Fence" and seven ot...

 Greater Celandine                                      By An Do-hyun Until I turned thirty-five, I lived without knowing the greater celandine. Yet, every year, without fail, whenever spring returned, They must have been gazing right at my face. The greater celandine, clustered thick With lovely blossoms no bigger than a speck of dried mucus— How slighted they must have felt. Thinking, "There walks someone who doesn't even know the greater celandine," "And to think such a person writes poetry in the village of humans."

  Waiting for the Whale (Winner of the 1999 Kim Sowol Poetry Award)                                                    By Ahn Do-hyun Waiting for the Whale I was there by the sea of ​​Jangsaengpo. Someone said the whale would not return— that even if it did, it would remain unseen. Filled with sorrow, I sat at the end of the breakwater and gazed only at the sea. I waited, even knowing that what one waits for does not come; I waited, knowing that life is a cycle of waiting until one grows weary. While waiting for the whale, I watched the waves suckling at the breast of the shore. With every breath it exhaled, I thought that the sea—heaving its shoulders— might well be a whale itself.

                          Star                            by Shin Kyung-rim Now that I have grown old and my eyes have dimmed, I can see the stars. Twinkling, twinkling in the Seoul sky,  I can see the stars. Because I can see the stars in the sky, I can see stars among the grass and trees. Because I can see stars among the grass and trees, I can see stars among the people. Twinkling, twinkling in the murky sky,  I can see the stars— stars I could not see when my eyes were bright. 별 -                        신경림    나이 들어 눈 어두우니 별이 보인다 반짝반짝 서울 하늘에 별이 보인다 하늘에 별이 보이니 풀과 나무 사이에 별이 보이고 풀과 나무 사이에 별이 보이니 사람들 사이에 별이 보인다 반짝반짝 탁한 하늘에 별이 보인다 눈 밝아 보이지 않던 별이 보인다 *

Pedaling the Dream                                                                                     [By Choi Young-mi] My heart swells like yonder moon, Yet I cannot cross the stone wall you built; Searching for dreams that miscarry at every dawn, I grope for you with hands that cannot grasp, And call your name with a tongue that cannot speak. As the night deepens—the night I nurtured this secret love— If only I could pedal my dream to reach you, I would gladly cast aside the lure of trivial stars. --------------------------------------------------------------------- With Poetry I feel like those poems perfectly captured the emotions that stirred within me when I was in my twenties and thirties—back when I was discovering things I truly loved and was passionate about! Although ...

  Summer Days Pass.                           By Han Gang On the morning I returned—having briefly seen a friend dressed in black before the funeral procession began—late-summer trees stood bathed in sunlight outside the car window    The trees would not know I had passed by Just as I cannot now recall the appearance of even a single one of them Just as I never saw a single leaf turn over        Our meeting was all too brief Even had we shuddered and wept, there was no gap between us; no breathing space for a sigh to slip through. Not even if I had reached out my hands in silence, or if they had turned—startled—toward those hands ------------------- Encounters in our lives often seem all too brief. Yet, we frequently face one another in such a lackluster way— right up until the moment the lid closes on the final parting. It doesn't take immense energy to let the heart glow with warmth and...

 Forest Story                      By Shin Dong-wook Someone abandoned me in the forest and left. Since that day, I have viewed the forest through their eyes and sung of it with their voice. I spent a long time writing—writing and writing again—this forest story, hunched over a table built from layers of crushed flower stamens, beside a glass holding a slice of wind, at the foot of a staircase made of leaves. Birds frolic, darting between the branches. Yet, standing in the heart of the forest, the moonlight is so brilliant that the scene feels like a landscape painting where one is compelled to layer on shades of gray. At times, the forest shrinks down to the smallest scale; it turns into fine rootlets that tickle the soles of my feet, then binds my entire body with kudzu vines. The forest devours me, much like a hummingbird thrusting its beak from flower to flower—or like a field mouse that vanishes, leaving only its tail behi...

Because the Wind Blows                      By Yu Gye-young Even the whiskers blew—from the teapot to the teacup The stream of water at noon, about to fall, blew onto my trousers A hat blew over the hat Hair, so neatly arranged, Drowned inside my eyes and mouth "The wind is blowing; shall we go out?" The memo paper where I meant to write that blew away first I was reading a story about a village where a madman lived But the person labeled "mad" was the only one who looked sane A fairy flew in through the window—a fairy who mistakenly believed herself to be a swordsman Confusion, chaos, drowsiness, crossed signals Why do I find myself chuckling weakly? ----- About the Author She began publishing her work in 2010 through the literary journal *Hyundae Munhak*. Her poetry collections include *The Day of All Things*, *I Think I Can Talk About Innocence Now*, and *Is This Kind of Story a Bit Dizzying?*

 Thistle Flower                            By Min Young Oh thistle, oh thistle, Thistle of the Cheorwon Plain— You lost your husband in the chaos of war And live all alone. Clutching a hand-hoe in your toil-worn hand, A kerchief tied around your head, You sit amidst the soybean field, Calling out your beloved’s name. Oh thistle, oh thistle, Thistle by the Hantan River— Where have you gone, leaving me behind? My voice chokes with sorrow as I call to you. 민 영 Born in Cheorwon, Gangwon Province, he moved to Manchukuo with his family and grew up there. He attended Myeongsin Elementary School in Helong County, Jiandao Province, but eventually left school. He made his literary debut in 1959 after being recommended by the journal *Hyundae Munhak* (Modern Literature). His poetry primarily consists of concise, condensed short poems. His poetry collections include *Danjang* (Heartbreak), *Yongin Jinaneun Gire* (On the Way ...

호수 정지용 作 얼굴 하나야  손바닥 둘로  폭 가리지만, 보고 싶은 마음  호수만 하니  눈 감을 수 밖에 Lake                       By Jeong Ji-yong A single face  is  easily hidden  behind two palms of hands, but the longing in my heart  is vast as a lake so I have no choice but to close my eyes. <About the Author> Jeong Ji-yong (June 20, 1902 – 1950) is a representative lyric poet of South Korea. [1] Due to uncertainty regarding the circumstances of his disappearance to North Korea and his cause of death, his name was once censored as "Jeong X-yong" and his beautiful poetry was treated as taboo; however, the ban was lifted in 1988, and his poem "Nostalgia" (Hyangsu) was subsequently included in Korean language textbooks. An alumnus of Doshisha University—like Yun Dong-ju, another of Korea's foremost lyric poets—he is renowned for beautifully expressing the sentiments of longing felt by the youth during the late colonial period.

  Right Now, We                                       By Park Jun Back then, it was only after midnight that we yielded our narrow courtyard to the stars. Stars of the coming season drift across the dawn sky. The words I ought to offer when the stars are setting shine longer than the words I once spoke on nights when the stars shone bright. 지금은 우리가                              박 준 作 그때 우리는 자정이 지나서야 좁은 마당을 별들에게 비켜주었다 새벽의 하늘에는  다음 계절의 별들이 지나간다. 별 밝은 날 나에게 건네던 말보다  별이 지는 날 나에게 빌어야 하는 말들이 더 오래 빛난다

  A Windy Day                  By Park Seong-ryong Does the wind, too, know— as it flutters so ceaselessly today— that I am parting with everything I possess? Does the wind, too, know— as autumn leaves are swept clean from blades of grass, tree branches, country paths, and the village— that I, too, am letting go of everything I have? Does the wind, too, know— as it stirs with such unbearable agitation— that today, I am also reclaiming everything I had lost? 바람 부는 날 박성룡 作 오늘따라 바람이 저렇게 쉴새없이 설레고만 있음은 오늘은 내가 내게 있는 모든 것을 여의고만 있음을 바람도 나와 함께 안다는 말일까 .   풀잎에 나뭇가지에 들길에 마을에 가을날 이ㅍ들이 말갛게 쓸리듯이 나는 오늘 그렇게 내게 있는 모든 것을 여의고만 있음을 바람도 나와 함께 안다는 말일까 .   아 지금 바람이 저렇게 못 견디게 설레고만 있음은 오늘은 또 내가 내가 잃은 모든 것을 되찾고 있음을 바람도 나와 함께 안다는 말일까 . <About the Author> Poet Park Seong-ryong Born in Haenam, South Jeolla Province, in 1932 Studied English Literature at Chung-Ang University Began his literary career in 1956 with the publicati...

  September — by Ko Young-min 그리고 9월이 왔다. And then, September arrived. 산구절초의 아홉 마디 위에 꽃이 사뿐히 얹혀져 있었다     Blossoms rested lightly atop the nine nodes of the wild *Gujeolcho* (Siberian chrysanthemum). 수로를 따라 물이 반짝이며 흘러간다     Water shimmered as it flowed along the channel. 부질없은 짓이겠지만   누군지 모를 당신들 생각으로     꼬박 하루를 다 보냈다     It may have been a futile thing to do, but I spent the entire day thinking of you—whoever you might be. 햇살 곳곳에 어제 없던 그늘이 박혀 있었다     이맘때부터 왜 물은 깊어질까 Patches of shade, absent yesterday, were now embedded here and there in the sunlight. Why is it that, around this time of year, the waters seem to deepen? 산은 멀어지고 생각은 더 골똘해지고     돌의 맥박은 빨라질까     As the mountains receded and my thoughts grew more profound, did the pulse of the stones quicken? 왕버들 아래 무심히 앉아     더 어두워지길 기다렸다     Sitting idly beneath a great willow tree, I waited for the darkness...

 "Jealousy Is My Strength" / by Ki Hyung-do                                          질투는 나의 힘 / 기형도 作  After a very long time has passed, 아주 오랜 세월이 흐른 뒤에 A feeble bookmark will let this paper fall. 힘없는 책갈피는 이 종이를 떨어뜨리리 For in those days, my heart built so many factories— 그때 내 마음은 너무나 많은 공장을 세웠으니 Foolishly, I had so much to record. 어리석게도 그토록 기록할 것이 많았구나 Like a dog wandering slowly beneath the clouds, 구름 밑을 천천히 쏘다니는 개처럼 I lingered in the air, never tiring. 지칠 줄 모르고 공중에서 머뭇거렸구나 I possessed nothing but sighs; 나 가진 것 탄식밖에 없어 Gazing at my youth standing on evening streets, 저녁 거리마다 물끄러미 청춘을 세워두고 I marveled as I counted the days I had lived. 살아온 날들을 신기하게 세어보았으니 No one feared me, 그 누구도 나를 두려워하지 않았으니 And the substance of my hope was nothing but jealousy. 내 희망의 내용은 질투뿐이었구나 And so, for now, I leave this brief note here: 그리하여 나는 우선 여기에 짧은 글을 남겨둔다 My life wandered madly in search of love...