Issue 35,  Translation

"Morning Snow" by Cho Ji Hoon Translated from the Korean by Sekyo Nam Haines

photo by Gerard Franciosa

Wouldn’t you know
without opening a window,
the snow has fallen
on Chun Mountain


The delicate bulb of daffodil

would have
known it first.

In the deepening night
by the lamplight
worries swarmed densely like butterflies.

 
In my dream
as the snow fell on me
I walked alone on the snow blurring meadow.

My eyes opened
at morning’s touch of brightness

and music.

Having a positive mind
for all things, the snow
moved its head lightly side to side

fell and piled on the field.

Without opening the window
I know
the snow has fallen
on Chun Mountain.

 

설조

천산에
눈이 내린 줄을
창 열지 않곤
모를 건가.

수선화
고운 뿌리가
제 먼저 아는 것을…

밤 깊어 등불 가에
자욱히 날아오던
상념의
나비 떼들

꿈 속에
그 눈을 맞으며
아득한 벌판을
내 홀로 걸어 갔거니

무슨 광명과
음악과도 같은 감촉에
눈 뜨는
이 아침

모든 것을
긍정 하고픈 마음에
살래살래 고개 저으며
내려서 싸인 눈밭

천산에
눈이 내린 줄을
창 열지 않고도
나는 안다.

 

 

 


Born in 1920, Cho Ji Hoon is one of the canonical poets of modern Korea. He was a renowned traditionalist of Korean aesthetics. Although his poetry is written in a modernist free verse form, his poems often resonate with the deep root of Korean literati, Sijo. In 1939, at age 19, Cho Ji Hoon published his first poem in MoonJang. In 1946, he published his collection of poetry, “Cheongnok Zip (청록집).” He was part of the groups known as the Green Deer Poets, “Cheongnokpa,” which included poets Park Mokwohl and Pak Doo Zin. He published five poetry collections and many essays and books related to Korean letters and culture, receiving numerous awards.
Born and raised in South Korea, Sekyo Nam Haines immigrated to the U.S. in 1973 and currently resides in Cambridge, MA with her family. Her poems have appeared in the anthologies Do Not Give Me Things Unbroken, Unlocking The Poem, and Beyond Words; and in the poetry journals Constellations, Off the Coast and Lily Poetry Review. Her translations of Korean poetry have appeared in The Harvard Review, The Seventh Quarry Poetry Magazine, Brooklynrail: InTranslation, and Adelaide Literary Magazine, among others. Her translation of “The Dire Pinnacle” by Lee Yuk Sa appeared in The Anthology of Best Work in Translation by The Massachusetts Review. Her book, Bitter Seasons' Whip: The Translated Poems of Lee Yuk Sa, is forthcoming with Tolsun Books.
Well known as a master printer, Gerard Franciosa has also been making landscape images for over 30 years, including his long-term project in Italy. His photography, he says, indexes "disturbances, both visual and perceived, caused by light and form and the geometry of chaos and stillness." He studied photography and art at Pratt Institute and runs My Own Color Lab, a custom dark room facility in New York City.