1947

my original poem <1947> 2006.07.31
English translation by Jeats , 2017.02.10


1947



One clog unworn
Deeply trapped in the muddy night outside Tea Chamber
Austere eyesight all the air
Had drafted down the obituary

A circle of Sun rumbling
Rolled over the avenue just being plowed up
As in a Safari field
Crammed with the obsolete
Cheap target sheet of
Crippled stomach and bowels which
Youth Canines shared the remains

With characters so forceful
Where an official document had arrived at
The river was stuffed dry
The land was exalted high
Perhaps we have been dead before
Like smashed by a hand
A chessboard game

Wretched cuckoos bred eggs
In the smoky and spiral-raising shrine
Pilgrim believers were bound
To be sacrifices in the ceremony
Hill mynas repeating
Resounding praises
Mythology of Heroes and fatherland
Along the winding corridor voices were drawn

Only at night through the inspection of
Palms and tibias would then notice sharply
Piercing explosiveness
The rain outside the window kept falling down
Our harbor seemed to make efforts
To wash away everything

No one dared to turn over Calendar
Since that day
Just as no one dared to touch
A dish of steamed fish on table
Much afraid of sliced fish showing up
Our dearest Mother who
Since that night that year
Appeared no more