Korean
1328 – 1396
At sundown the sand looks whiter,
Clouds shift, the water becomes clear.
A lofty man enjoys the moon-
All he lacks is a purple panpipe.
Translation by Peter H. Lee
Moon Viewing at Cold Cove
Korean
1328 – 1396
Korean Poets
Korean
1328 – 1396
To the Moon
We present this work in honor of the 425th anniversary of the poet’s death.
Korean
1534 – 1599
When on the wane, you are always impatient to wax,
but how do you so easily wane after waxing?
You are full only once in a month’s thirty nights:
man’s mind in a lifetime is exactly the same.
Woe Are You?
Korean
b. 1962
It was hardly war, the hardliest of wars. Hardly, hardly. It occurred to me that this
particular war was hardly war because of kids, more kids, those poor kids. The kids
were hungry until we GIs fed them. We dusted them with DDT. Hardly done. Rehabilitation of Korea, that is. It needs chemical fertilizer from the States, power to build things like a country. In the end it was the hardliest of wars made up of bubble gum, which GIs had to show those kids how to chew. In no circumstance whatever can man be comfortable without art. They don’t want everlasting charity, and we are not giving it to them. We are just lending them a hand until they can stand on their own two feet. A novel idea. This is why it occurred to me that this particular war was hardly war, the hardliest of wars.
My father was hardly himself during the war, then I was born during the era that
hardly existed, and, therefore, I hardly existed without DDT. Beauty is pleasure regarded as the quality of a thing. I prefer a paper closet with real paper dresses in
it. To be born hardly, hardly after the hardliest of wars, is a matter of debate. Still
going forward. We are, that is. Napalm again. This is THE BIG PICTURE. War and its masses. War and its men. War and its machines. Together we form THE BIG PICTURE. From Korea to Germany, from Alaska to Puerto Rico. All over the world, the US Army is on the alert to defend our country, you the people, against aggression. This is THE BIG PICTURE, an official television report to the nation from the army. This is Korea! Is one thing better than another? These South Koreans are all right. Woe is you, woe is war, hardly war, woe is me, woe are you? My father is still alive, and this is how I came to prefer a paper closet with real paper dresses in it.
Well, it’s morning in Korea. The most violently mountainous place on Earth. Everyone has been dusted, existence hardly done, whereas beauty has been regarded as the quality of a thing. At Uncle Dann’s Huddle doughnuts and coffee are free and in case there are any, for there are many, the unescorted ladies are not permitted. The decision has been made in Tokyo for the hardliest of wars, an old soldier made it. The situation in Korea is so critical that we the Navy must give the Eighth Army practical support. Do you remember how you began this day? How did you spend this morning? Woe are you? Well, pinecones fall every day. So why do we fail? Miles and miles of homeless refugees set adrift by the Red scourge.
Standing by a Winter Field
In honor of the Korean holiday, Teacher’s Day, we present this work by a Korean poet and teacher.
Korean
b. 1942
A person suffering from love
even once
should visit a winter field.
There is fullness
of an empty space, pleasure
of a person giving freely.
A few fallen grains
on a rice paddy after the harvest.
A person mourning separation
even once
should visit a winter field.
There is comfort
in the heaven that eternalizes
these encounters on earth.
The eyes of a pond
looking up at faraway stars.
A person afflicted with longing
even once
should visit a winter field.
There is awareness
that to watch you is to watch me,
to be alone is to be with others.
The scarecrow
watching the empty field alone.
Tree
We present this work in honor of Singmogil.
Korean
1917 – 1945
When trees dance
The wind will blow
When trees grow silent
The wind sleeps too
When I Come to the Stream
Korean
1501 – 1572
When I come to the stream in Mount Turyu
whose beauty I have long since heard of,
I see the mountains mirrored in the waters
dotted with floating peach blossoms.
Where is the fairyland, my boy?
This alone is the place.
Let’s go! To Paris not to live, but to die
We present this work in honor of the 75th anniversary of the poet’s death.
Korean
1896 – 1948
Let’s go! To Paris not to live, but to die
Paris killed me
Paris made me a real woman
Damn it, let me die in Paris!
Nothing to find, meet, or gain. No reason to return.
Forever I will go
Past and present, I am zero
I will be in the future
My four children!
Blame me not, but society, morals, laws, and customs
Your mother as a pioneer was a martyr of destiny
Someday you may come as ambassadors to Paris
Find my grave, leave one flower for me
East Winds that Melt the Mountain Snow
Korean
1262 – 1342
East winds that melt the mountain snow
Come and go, without words.
Blow over my head, young breeze,
Even for a moment, blow.
Would you could blow away the gray hairs
That grow so fast around my ears!
Sticks in one hand,
Branches in another:
I try to block old age with bushes,
And frosty hair with sticks:
But white hair came by a short cut,
Having seen through my devices.
Requiem for the Dead Sister
Korean
c. 742 – 765
On the hard road of life and death
That is near our land,
You went, afraid,
Without words.
We know not where we go,
Leaves blown, scattered,
Though fallen from the same tree,
By the first winds of autumn.
Ah, I will polish the path
Until I meet you in the Pure Land
Song of Ch’oyong
Korean
13th century
Having caroused far into the night
In the moonlit capital,
I returned home and in my bed,
Behold four legs.
Two were mine;
Whose are the other two?
Formerly two were mine;
What shall be done now they are taken?
Poets Corner 