skip-navigation

한국문학번역원 로고

TOP

Korean Literature Now

Back to Poetry

Two Poems by Park Joon scrap

by Park Joongo link Translated by Susan Kgo link September 4, 2025

Two Poems by Park Joon 이미지

Author Bio 작가 소개

박준

Park Joon

Park Joon made his debut in 2008 through the quarterly magazine Silchon Munhak. He has published the poetry collections I Took Your Name and Ate It for Some Days,We Could See the Monsoon Together,and Without a Greeting, Without a Farewell, and the essay collections Though Crying Won’t Change a Thing and Seasonal Essays. He has won the Shin Dong-yup Prize for Literature, the Park JaesamLiterary Award, the Pyeon-un Literature Award, and the Prize for Young Artists.

WINTER SOLSTICE

 

Back then. 

 

(when boiling two packets of ramyeon in a small pot could be called ecstasy or thin-eared; when, on the morning of the winter solstice, out of a sense of apology, I said, “I’m not a ghost or anything, but I dislike bean porridge,” or “If the ramyeon broth tastes similarly seasoned, the salinity in our blood must be similar”; or when you said, “You must have a beggar in your stomach,” and with a beggar in the stomach I would feel peckish, cold, dirty, yet soon bloated, and push the table aside and lie there, having so many questions to ask you; then, when my stomach ached, hands went numb, and face turned pale; when the young you would take a needle from the drawer; when you would pat my back, stroke my arm, and pinch my earlobes; when you misread my pulse with your fingers, saying, “Your pulse feels faint, you seem to have severe indigestion,” and the sight of you scratching your head with the needle’s eye felt utterly familiar; when all my ten fingers had been pricked, and the sight of the blood, too precious to waste, would make me want to write characters like ‘beautiful’ (佳) or ‘to shine’ (暎); when, after sending you to Incheon, I lay back in the same spot where we had been, kneading my one hand with the other, closing my eyes tightly, so tightly that I could see dreams, and in the dream, in the fields of a new spring, strands of your long hair lay scattered here and there.)

 

 

 

PLAZA

 

A window letting in just a sliver of light was perfect for us. We met back then when we still believed the simple truth that to die together, you must live together. The half-smoked cigarettes you left tasted sweet, and as the room started to warm, I’d lie with my head on your long legs, simmering like an anchovy in soup. Many a night, I’d drift off after thinking up some line like, “The way for humans to live with birds wasn’t to cage them, but to grow grass and trees in the yard,” nudging it onto your knee, and then fall asleep. Some mornings, we’d sit sorry-faced, facing each other, and talk about what we’d dreamt the previous night, forgetting to fold our blankets, while the white laundry we’d hung on the rooftop, having soaked up the starlight all night, dried yellow.

 

Translator 번역가 소개

Susan K

Susan K

Susan K received her BA in English literature and linguistics from the University of Toronto. She has translated the poetry collections I’ll Give You All My Promenade by Jeong Woo-shin, Rock Is Thunder by Lee Jae Hoon, An Unknown Taste by Park Soran, and Like a Fruit Tearing Its Way Out of a Flower by Jang Okgwan.

Did you enjoy this article? 별점

Did you enjoy this article? Please rate your experience

Send