[PR] Chosŏn Goes Wandering

Yi Sang-Hwa 이상화 
Morbid Season 병적계절 
translated by Brother Anthony of Taizé and Peter Lee 

Geese and swallows never meet, their ways never cross—why is that so sad to my mind? 
Clutching a leaf from which a cricket has fallen, I watch through the night.
Autumn seems to be a season for weeping lest sorrowful lives be separated. 

Is it time now for my endless thoughts, ceaseless dreams to subside one by one? 
Swarming winds that have lost their way like a widower rush into my boat, make it roll. 
Autumn seems to be a season when the doleful heart is so sick it runs wild. 

Behold the sky. A haggard cloud goes wandering. 
Behold the earth. Youthful Chosŏn goes wandering.

이상화 
병적계절(病的季節) 

기러기 제비가 서로 엇갈림이 보기에 이리도 설은가. 
귀뚜리 떨어진 나뭇잎을 부여잡고 긴 밤을 새네. 
가을은 애달픈 목숨이 나누어질까 울 시절인가 보다. 

가없는 생각 짬 모를 꿈이 그만 하나 둘 잦아지려는가. 
홀아비같이 헤매는 바람떼가 한 배 가득 구비치네. 
가을은 구슬픈 마음이 앓다 못해 날뛸 시절인가 보다. 

하늘을 보아라 야윈 구름이 떠돌아다니네. 
땅 위를 보아라 젊은 조선이 떠돌아다니네.

I gained an appreciation for Korean poetry when I was at Korean language and culture camp this summer.  I learned a lot about Kim Sowol, a poet whose poem 진달래꽃 "Azaleas" is INSANELY popular in Korea to this day.  I really wanted to do a Korean poem for my poetry project earlier this year, but Ms. Pyle made it clear that it would be better to do a poem in its original language, and I'm not quite that good at Korean yet.

I've often thought about how we interpret something as "sounding lovely" when it's in a different language.  It's much easier to identify the emotion in another language when it's expressed through music. For example, one of the first Korean songs I ever heard (listen to it here) definitely brought me to tears and I had no clue what the guy was saying.  Music is powerful stuff.  But think about it with traditional poetry or even books.  You can hear someone read a poem out loud and the words will send a chill down your spine; But what if you were to read that exact passage to someone who didn't know English? It's not likely to have a very powerful effect at all on them.  So how much of a language do you have to know before you can appreciate its finer forms?  Well, I read a lot of poetry in AP Spanish Lit and I've felt neutral towards most of it.  Maybe a few lines here and there have caused me think "dang, that's good," like a lot of English poetry does, but I think if I knew Spanish better those kinds of lines would be noticed more often.  

I like the poem included above because it's not at all like a traditional Korean poetry.  First off, it's not nearly as repetitive as a lot of old Korean poetry tends to be.  The only times when it is repetitive is in the last two lines, and this repetition affected me very positively.  This is also a creative way to compare two things without direct metaphors or similes; The haggard cloud and the Youthful Choson both go wandering, suggesting they are linked in a significant fashion.  The other non-traditional aspect of this poem is the long lines, which contrast with the typical 4 or so words per line in most Korean poems.  This is a much more conversational and approachable style that fits well with my taste.  

That should be enough analysis.  When I read it, I'm much more focused on analyzing the way in which it was translated from Korean to English, as that is something I would like to do in the future.  I'm especially intrigued by the fact that the English version has questions posed in the poem while the Korean version does not.  I wish I knew Korean well enough to understand why that is the case, as it seems like a fairly significant difference, don't you think?

Go read some poetry that was originally written in a non-English language.