6 Poems by Han, Young Woon
Translated by Yeon-seong Park
The Silence of a Lover
She`s gone.
My beloved is gone.
Under the blue light of the mountain side,
Walking through the narrow lane
leading to the maple woods,
She`s gone.
Our oath which was bright like the golden sun
became black dust
and was blown away
by the wind.
The sharp memory of our first kiss stepped backward
after it changed the direction of my destiny.
I was deafened by
her fragrant voice and
blinded by her flowerlike face.
Love is also a business of humans, therefore
I was on guard against parting
when I first met her.
but parting came too soon.
My faint heart was buried in a new grief.
But if I shed tears,
it will mean the real end of our love,
I`d rather pour the power of
uncontrollable sorrow
into the marrow of new hope.
Just as we feared parting when we met first
I believe we`ll meet again
when we have parted.
Alas, she`s gone, but
I haven`t sent her yet.
The song which cannot bear its own tune
is floating around the silence of a lover.
The Road is blocked up.
Your face, though it is not a moon
is shining on my mind
climbing mountains
and crossing the river.
Why my hand, so short,
can not touch you
just in front of me?
There`s no reason for you not to come here
There`s no reason for me not to go there
But there`s no ladder in the mountain,
And there`s no boat in the river.
Who stole them?
I`m making a ladder with jems
and a boat with pearls.
I`m missing you
who could not come here
because the road is blocked up.
The Existence of Being
If we define love as love,
it is not love anymore.
Where is a word or writings which can give a name to love?
Can lips of a rose, which seem to be agonized under the weight of smile touch it?
Can eyes of ripples which are hidden behind tears and reflecting sorrow convey it?
Passing through the cloud without shadow,
Passing through the cliff without echo,
Passing through the sea where we cannot reach,
Is it being?
Yes, it is being.
That kingdom has no boundary.
Life is not time.
Even eyes or hearts of a lover cannot know the existence of love
Only a needle which embroiders a lover`s handkerchief,
a flower tree which a lover planted,
The dream of a lover,
and the imagination of a poet___
It is they who know the secret of love.
Preaching of a monk
One day
I heard preaching of a monk.
"Don`t be suffered from
the rope of love that tied you.
Cut it and your mind will be free."
He preached us in a loud voice.
In my opinion
that monk is really stupid.
It`s true that love aches, but
cutting it aches more than death.
to be free from love,
we should bind the bond more.
therefore true peace come from
deep and never-ending
relationships.
Dear,
I made the rope thicker
for fear that it has become loose.
The time you left
When you left
I was in another village
At that time
the first fall wind blew
two or three leaves in each branch of tree turned red.
I will cut the time you left out of eternity.
then time will be cut into two,
you, take one end of time, and I will take the other end.
And when we will meet again, I will connect the two.
the those who are waiting to write
our unhappiness, will not be able to write
the time you left.
I will cut the time you left out of eternity.
Sending him away
He`s leaving. He is leaving against his will. I`m sending him against my will.
He is leaving. I think until now that his red lips, his white teeth, his slender eyebrows are beautiful. But now I know that his back hair like a cloud, his waist like a willow, --- they are more beautiful than them.
His steps become farther and farther. He is seen and unseen again and again. The farther he goes, the closer I feel his heart. The closer I feel his heart, the farther he goes. The thing which is seen from a distance seems like his handkerchief, but that is only a small floating cloud smaller than a seagull.