Poetryzine magazine presents the selected poems by South Korean poet Wansoo Kim
A Strange Bag
He is all smiles
Humming
With only the expectation he may possess
He knows he won't be filled up
But he always opens his mouth
Just like a man exhausted with hunger.
He is proud of his possession,
But when lost or deprived,
He doesn't fall asleep or falls ill.
Laughing or weeping
With the things like the wind
That'll stay for a short time,
He opens his mouth
Just like a man exhausted with hunger.
Tears of Glacier
In the jungle of buildings
City dances in all seasons
Falling in a hot love
With air conditioners or cars
Day and night.
A woman who has kept her virginity long years
In clothes of virgin white with loft pattern
Sobs growing thin day by day
With the pain
That the disease of repressed stress bursts her heart
And tears her internal organs
Because of the hot dancing wind
That city blows with his whole body and soul
The man that doesn’t even turn his eyes on
Why the woman sobs
And what kind of serious disease she suffers from
Still today day and night
Burns his body
In flames of money and pleasure
With his blood boiling over
Due to the dancing wind.
Life
Grass
Which lives eating dreams
And disappears like dreams.
Without eating dreams,
It’ll be fallen leaves
Blooming only flowers of tears
Withering or getting sick.
But with eating dreams without stopping,
It’ll bloom a flower
To touch the bitter hearts
With its fragrance made long
By tears and scars,
Even though shaken and soaked by the storms.
The sky often whispers
Patting it on the shoulder
No flowers bloom
without being shaken or soaked.
Spell
She falls under a spell
At eight O’clock every night.
She, throwing aside her work,
Sticks at TV
Attracted by the magnet of a spell
Like a person
That the function all over the body is suspended.
Her soul,
Tuning in those of actors and actresses on TV,
Cries and laughs
like a person in another world.
On the moment,
The watch of worry and anxiety stops
And she can’t hear
What children and husband say.
After a while,
When the soap opera has finished,
Her overflowing liveliness
Disappears somewhere
As if she were a person broken under the spell
And the watch of worry and anxiety
Works again.
She, however,
Already misses
Eight o’clock the next night.
Comments