Tag Archives: Protest Poet

Sumjin River: Part Three by Kim Yong-taek

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Translated by Chae-Pyong Song and Anne Rashid

Sumjin River painted by Song Man-kyu

Sumjin River: Part Three by Kim Yong-taek

You must be attached to this.
Watching the sun set,
the glittering ripples rush in continuously
and seep deeply into you and the water’s edge across the river.
Beloved, without your knowing,
you must be attached to the place where the water is deep.
Flowers bloom–they wither in no time;
even flower seeds wither.
Leaning your heart against the plant leaf
on which white snow fell,
you came this far to stand.
When you arrived, the sun set,
thirsting for water, and you stood in front of the water,
feeling sorrowful, joyful, and happy,
and cried, your two shoulders shaking out of love.
You must have planted your longing deep under the water.
Though you didn’t have anybody you waited for,
you returned from the water’s edge and treaded up the night path.
Because your eyes were familiar with
each stone and each blade of grass on this path,
you must have been attached to this land.
The village where the light becomes alive little by little,
longs for the love that it must cultivate.
Your thin back that I watch quietly from afar
without your knowing
must have borne a pretty love.

섬진강3/ 김용택

그대 정들었으리.
지는 해 바라보며
반짝이는 잔물결이 한없이 밀려와
그대 앞에 또 강 건너 물가에
깊이 깊이 잦아지니
그대, 그대 모르게
물 깊은 곳에 정들었으리,
풀꽃이 피고 어느새 또 지고
풀씨도 지고
그 위에 서리 하얗게 내린
풀잎에 마음 기대며
그대 언제나 여기까지 와 섰으니
그만큼 와서 해는 지고
물 앞에 목말라 물 그리며
서러웠고 기뻤고 행복했고
사랑에 두 어깨 깊이 울먹였으니
그대 이제 물 깊이 그리움 심었으리.
기다리는 이 없어도 물가에서
돌아오는 저녁 길
그대 이 길 돌멩이, 풀잎 하나에도
눈 익어 정들었으니
이 땅에 정들었으리.
더 키워나가야 할
사랑 그리며
하나둘 불빛 살아나는 동네
멀리서 그윽이 바라보는
그대 야윈 등,
어느덧
아름다운 사랑 짊어졌으리.

(Originally published in Gwangju News, December, 2011)

Kim Yong-taek (1948- ) was born in Imsil, Jeollabuk-do. With lyrical (often regional) vernacular, he has written many poems about undamaged agricultural communities and the profound beauty of nature. His poetry collections include The Sumjin River, A Clear Day, Sister, The Day Is Getting Dark, The Flower Letter I Miss, Times Like A River, That Woman’s House, and Your Daring Love. He also published essay collections such as A Small Village, What’s Longed for Exists behind the Mountain, A Story of the Sumjin River, and Follow the Sumjin River and Watch. He was awarded the Kim Soo-young Literary Award (1986) and the Sowol Poetry Award (1997). He currently teaches at Woonam Elementary School.

Sumjin River painted by Song Man-kyu

Around Chuseok by Kim Nam-ju

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Translated by Chae-Pyong Song and Anne Rashid

Painted by Jung Jeong-im

Around Chuseok by Kim Nam-ju

In the early evening when the sky began to open its eyes, sparkle, sparkle,
I walked along with my son on the country path of Hometown.

“Daddy, daddy, we pee with a chili pepper, so why do women pee with their bottoms?”

Dumbfounded by my four-year-old’s question,
I looked around to see what I strangely sensed. In the pepper field in the distance,
three girls squatted to do their business naturally.

For some reason
the crescent hanging over the ridge was grinning a large grin.

추석 무렵/김남주

반짝반짝 하늘이 눈을 뜨기 시작하는 초저녁
나는 자식놈을 데불고 고향의 들길을 걷고 있었다.

아빠 아빠 우리는 고추로 쉬하는데 여자들은 엉뎅이로 하지?

이제 갓 네 살 먹은 아이가 하는 말을 어이없이 듣고 나서
나는 야릇한 예감이 들어 주위를 한 번 쓰윽 훑어 보았다 저만큼 고추밭에서
아낙 셋이 하얗게 엉덩이를 까놓고 천연스럽게 뒤를 보고 있었다.

무슨 생각이 들어서 그랬는지 산마루에 걸린 초승달이 입이
귀밑까지 째지도록 웃고 있었다.

Kim Nam-ju (1946-1994) was born in Haenam, Jeollanam-do and studied English at Chonnam National University. He is known as one of the major resistance poets in South Korea, leading the people’s movement in the 1970s and 80s that ultimately toppled the dictatorship in Korea. Because of his activism, he was imprisoned twice, for more than ten years in total. In prison where paper and pencil were not allowed, he wrote many poems on milk cartons with the nail he made by grinding a toothbrush. These poems were later published in two collected volumes of his prison poetry, The Sunlight on the Prison Bar. His poetry bears witness to the tyranny of dictatorship and the hardships of the oppressed. He published such poetry collections as Requiem, My Sword My Blood, One Fatherland, The Weapon of Love and In This Lovely World. He received the Yun Sang-won Literary Award in 1993 and the National Literary Award in 1994. His poems have also been memorialized by Korean activist, rock singer An Chi-hwan in his album entitled “Remember.”

Poverty by Moon Byung-ran

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Translated by Chae-Pyong Song and Anne Rashid

Photographed by Kim Young-ran

“Poverty” by Moon Byung-ran

We all know how tiring it is
for a farmer with five patches of rice fields
to raise four kids and send them to school.
We know a poor citizen without a house
risks his whole life
to get his own house.
Those who have raised kids all know
it is like cutting off your own bone
to raise four kids,
to send them to school like others do,
and to help them find their mates.
To marry one daughter, a pillar of the house disappears
and to send a child to college, you lose a rice patch.
Working even eight hours a day is not enough,
and some work inside and outside to save
yet not enough is made despite all the considerations.
We all know how demanding children’s mouths are–
yet is poverty mere rags?
Should we lie buried alone in the pit like a gem?
Can you quiet today’s hunger,
drinking dull drinks of water, saying it’s all right, it’s all right,
deliberately folding your arms, pretending to turn away?
We can’t raise our kids
the way the green mountain tends to orchids under her feet.
She blooms and withers alone; four seasons come and go.
But children don’t grow by themselves; they can’t eat for themselves.
Husbands should provide for wives,
wives should hold up their husbands.
Humans are born into work, live in work, and die in work
no matter how much the natural heart is like the green mountain.
The intestines are only satisfied with pickled fish.
They go hungry without food
and they defecate with food.
Who can live like an idealist
living alone, drinking only dew and wind?
Those who have only a bowl of barley with bean stew
think of rice as Heaven–
they bow down in front of rice.
While you sing, the whole universe is working together
to bring one chrysanthemum to bloom.
Do you know that in a shadowed corner of this land
a hungry mouth lives asking for a spoonful of rice?
Poverty is not by any means merely tattered rags.
It’s not just the old dress that one puts on and takes off.
When life gets swept up in the rough waves,
it isn’t a pleasure to lazily watch the green mountain in the afternoon.
Poverty is the enemy, the poisonous worm that gobbles us up
and feasts upon even our natural character,
the toxin that rots not just clothes but the flesh, too.
It’s our human enemy, the devil to drive away,
the seeker of pleasure in poverty
who hopelessly nurtures worms in the growling belly.
You say it’s all right, it’s all right,
borrowing Tao Yuan-min’s drinking cup,
imitating Li Bai’s drunken rowdiness.
Don’t deceive yourself.
Don’t defile the hungry mouth
who wants a bowl of rice and bean soup,
trading poverty for a piece of poem.
Oh, the hypocrite poet, the poet
of lullabies who puts people to sleep.

가난/ 문병란

논 닷마지기 짓는 농부가
자식 넷을 키우고 학교 보내는 일이
얼마나 고달픈가 우리는 다 안다
집 한칸 없는 소시민이
자기 집을 마련하는 데
평생을 건다는 것을 우리는 안다
네 명의 새끼를 키우고
남 보내는 학교도 보내고
또 짝을 찾아 맞추어 준다는 것이
얼마나 뼈를 깍는 아픔인가를
새끼를 키워 본 사람이면 다 안다
딸 하나 여우는 데 기둥 뿌리가 날라가고
새끼 하나 대학 보내는 데 개똥논이 날라간다
하루 여덟 시간 하고도 모자라
안팎으로 뛰고 저축하고
온갖 궁리 다하여도 모자란 생활비
새끼들의 주둥이가 얼마나 무서운가 다 안다
그래도 가난은 한갖 남루에 지나지 않는가?
쑥구렁에 옥돌처럼 호젓이 묻혀 있을 일인가?
그대 짐짓 팔짱 끼고 한 눈 파는 능청으로
맹물을 마시며 괜찮다 괜찮다
오늘의 굶주림을 달랠 수 있는가?
청산이 그 발 아래 지란을 기르듯
우리는 우리 새끼들을 키울 수 없다
저절로 피고 저절로 지고 저절로 오가는 4계절
새끼는 저절로 크지 않고 저절로 먹지 못한다
지애비는 지어미를 먹여 살려야 하고
지어미는 지애비를 부추겨 줘야 하고
사람은 일 속에 나서 일 속에 살다 일 속에서 죽는다
타고난 마음씨가 아무리 청산 같다고 해도
썩은 젖갈이 들어가야 입맛이 나는 창자
창자는 주리면 배가 고프고
또 먹으면 똥을 싼다
이슬이나 바람이나 마시며
절로절로 사는 무슨 신선이 있는가?
보리밥에 된장찌개라도 먹어야 하는
사람은 밥을 하늘로 삼는다
사람은 밥 앞에 절을 한다
그대 한 송이 국화꽃을 피우기 위해
전 우주가 동원된다고 노래하는 동안
이 땅의 어느 그늘진 구석에
한 술 밥을 구하는 주린 입술이 있다는 것을 아는가?
결코 가난은 한낱 남루가 아니다
입었다 벗어 버리는 그런 헌옷이 아니다
목숨이 농울쳐 휘어드는 오후의 때
물끄러미 청산이나 바라보는 풍류가 아니다
가난은 적, 우리를 삼켜 버리고
우리의 천성까지 먹어 버리는 독충
옷이 아니라 살갗까지 썩어 버리는 독소
우리 인간의 적이다 물리쳐야 할 악마다
쪼르륵 소리가 나는 뱃속에다
덧없이 회충을 기르는 청빈낙도
도연명의 술잔을 흉내내며
괜찮다 괜찮다 그대 능청 떨지 말라
가난을 한 편의 시와 바꾸어
한 그릇 밥과 된장국물을 마시려는
저 주린 입을 모독하지 말라
오 위선의 시인이여, 민중을 잠재우는
자장가의 시인이여 .

Moon Byung-ran (1935 – ) was born in Hwasun, Jeollanam-do. He taught creative writing at Chosun University as well as in Suncheon High School and Gwangju Jeil High School. He has published such collections as Legitimacy, On the Field of Bamboo Shoots, Ode to the Land, Ode to May, Mudeung Mountain, To the Weaver, and Tchaikovsky of the Dawn. Famous for being a poet of the people, he has made it his mission to represent the under-represented and to resist any form of oppression, especially the military dictatorship in Korea in the 1970s and 1980s.

NB: Read Seo Jung-ju’s “Gazing at Mudeung Mountain” as a pair: https://jaypsong.wordpress.com/category/seo-jung-ju/

The Sunlight on the Prison Bars by Kim Nam-ju

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Translated by Chae-Pyong Song and Anne Rashid

The Sunlight on the Prison Bars by Kim Nam-ju

When I reach out a hand,
the sunlight lands upon it and looks lovely.
When I angle my cheek towards it,
it settles in and warms it.
As fall comes,
it becomes longer and longer—
as long as the squirrel’s tail.
When it wraps around my neck,
it becomes the scarf my sister knitted.
When it touches my lips,
it becomes a memory of old love
that we once exchanged.

창살에 햇살이/김남주

내가 손을 내밀면
내 손에 와서 고와지는 햇살
내가 볼을 내밀면
내 볼에 와서 다스워지는 햇살
깊어가는 가을과 함께
자꾸자꾸 자라나
다람쥐 꼬리만큼은 자라나
내 목에 와서 감기면
누이가 짜준 목도리가 되고
내 입술에 와서 닿으면
그녀와 주고 받고는 했던
옛 추억의 사랑이 되기도 한다.

Kim Nam-ju (1946-1994) was born in Haenam, Jeollanam-do and studied English at Chonnam National University. He is known as one of the major resistance poets in South Korea, leading the people’s movement in the 1970s and 80s that ultimately toppled the dictatorship in Korea. Because of his activism, he was imprisoned twice, for more than ten years in total. In prison where paper and pencil were not allowed, he wrote many poems on milk cartons with the nail he made by grinding a toothbrush. These poems were later published in two collected volumes of his prison poetry, The Sunlight on the Prison Bar. His poetry bears witness to the tyranny of dictatorship and the hardships of the oppressed. He published such poetry collections as Requiem, My Sword My Blood, One Fatherland, The Weapon of Love and In This Lovely World. He received the Yun Sang-won Literary Award in 1993 and the National Literary Award in 1994. His poems have also been memorialized by Korean activist, rock singer An Chi-hwan in his album entitled Remember.