Lee Nayeul | Korea Haiku Poets & Guest Poets

English Translation

The world was only

as much as two hands could hold,

and walking was little more

than carrying forward

what the body could clutch.

The day that small universe was born,

humankind at last learned

how to carry tomorrow.

Beyond the hard stone axe

gripped in the left hand,

beyond the red fruit

held in the right,

in the deep darkness of a bag

time began to be stored.

The hunter packed dried meat

and maps of distant roads;

the gatherer filled it

with seeds that would bloom tomorrow

and the hopes of the tribe.

With the bag upon the shoulder,

the hands grew light and free.

With those hands

humans kindled fire,

pointed toward the stars,

took one another by the hand,

and began to walk farther.

As the bag grew heavier,

so did civilization;

and the footprints of humankind

grew deeper

and reached farther.

Now, carrying

the small bag called Earth,

we gaze toward distant galaxies.

Translated by 안수현 / An SooHyun

English Translation

In the desert, there is a single desk.

A book waits

until it is buried in the sand.

A book not a single line has read—

though there are words inside it,

there are no words.

The book is utterly empty.

Even without reading it,

I read it all.

Lying down,

I read the book through its presence.

Letters are hollow things.

Letters are sand,

sand scattering

in gusts of wind.

The desk simply remains

though it has nothing to do.

Even if no book is read,

the desk remains.

It must simply

be there.

For not reading a book

is also a way of reading.

A single desk,

so utterly necessary,

floats in the wandering sand wind.

A man walks across the desert.

So as not to sit at the desk,

he walks on,

never minding the distance.

Today again

he wanders endlessly

across the desert.

In my library of sand,

there stands, all alone,

a single desk.

Translated by 안수현 / An SooHyun

English Translation

The sand wind lashes at the ground as it flies,

yet can never touch it, only slide on without end.

Sliding and sliding, it becomes a long serpent,

biting its own tail, circling and circling.

A name slips like sand and easily crumbles

before it can even touch the ground.

A leaf flaunts its beauty before its name,

a single flower too boasts its beauty above its name.

The name, not knowing where to go, only wounds the flower.

A name limps along.

A name leaves the leaf eaten by worms.

A name breaks off a single flower.

O flowers that bloom, shattering names,

how dazzling

your dance.

The sand wind tries to strike the ground,

but the ground only sinks farther, lower and lower.

Translated by 안수현 / An SooHyun