Author Bio 작가 소개
If it’s possible, if it’s really possible,
why should there not be times when we start over again
from our mother’s womb
as if a newborn.
Life always has to listen alone
to the sound of the next wave.
Still, we should not turn back from the road once taken.
Tatters of the years while I wandered about
are flapping here and there
like laundry.
When I was poor even tears were lacking.
Some nights
I warmed my cold back at a dwindling bonfire,
then, turning cheerlessly, warmed my breast.
Some other nights
I simply froze, and shuddered, trembling.
Whenever countless tomorrows became today
I was often a stranger in a back seat.
At dusk the mountains were so deep
that the road I had to take
seemed longer than that which I had taken.
The wind blew...
It blew...
Was that a spirit howling once, or poetry?
Sorrow is never something we sell or buy.
So, be sorrowful
as a lamp
standing far beyond.
There should be nothing that I have left,
but feeling there was something
I had left behind
as fog was lifting,
I rose quickly from the spot where I had been staying,
likely on the west coast
near the outermost tip of Tae-an Peninsula.
Was that a soul howling at some period of my life, or poetry
Writer 필자 소개
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