Translated by Sekyo Nam Haines
Temple Bell
The way ripe fruits drop from branches,
sounds of temple bell drop from empty space.
Where sounds fall, they burst into light and fragrance.
They tangle and swirl,
reverberate in my ears, in my heart.
woong woong woong, woong woon dongs the temple bell
and flies up to the unfathomable heaven of thirty-three gods.
Over the bell’s sound
O, one who sits on flower cushion and smiles,
time for the dead to awake and speak,
time for living to fall under the spell of death’s mystery—
the temple bell sounds shake
this empty space
of dawn.
O, you, fragrant
fruits!
—from the Korean
Homage to a Plum Blossom
When plum blossoms fade at night,
the bright moon shines alone.
The window mirrors a bough
slanting toward the ground.
After I send my love
faraway
I sit in my empty room
and close my eyes.
The cool breeze is a silk garment,
that wraps my body.
A pristine, floating fragrance,
recalls what we were—
as if my love
returns—
After our farewell
I welcome my longing.
—from the Korean
Sekyo Nam Haines is a poet and translator of Korean poetry lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts. Her first book-length translation of Korean poetry, The Bitter Season’s Whip: The Complete Poems of Lee Yuk Sa, was published in 2022, April (Tolsun Books). Cho Ji Hoon (1920-1968) was a canonical poet of modern Korea and a renowned scholar of Korean aesthetics. A professor of Korean language and literature at Korea University for twenty years, Cho Ji Hoon served as the president of the Korean cultural society affiliated with the university and president of the Korean poet’s association. He received numerous literary awards and published five poetry collections, as well as many books related to Korean aesthetics and literature.