To the fish, an ocean is necessary.
To make love, you must be unemployed.
And on the bed at night.
To not feel pain in your feet,
You must be rich.
But in order to whistle,
You need nothing at all.
translated by Sidney Wade & Efe Murad
Month: October 2023
Letter from a Dead Friend by Melih Cevdet Anday
I live as in the olden days,
Wandering around, thinking,
Except I get on ferries and trains without a ticket.
I shop without bargaining.
I stay home at night, all comfortable.
(I only open the windows if I’m bored):
Ah . . . to scratch my head, to pick flowers . . .
Every now and then I wish I could shake someone’s hand.
translated by Sidney Wade & Efe Murad
from a poem by Hwang Jini: an endless stream: for JEP
you asked
did we really
drink that much
and I laughed
remembering
the empty glasses
the clinking of bells
on pinball machines
those 3am burritos
your mischievous twinkle
in your eyes
when pulling on beards
of argumentative Texans
and that drunken race
up that hill
in Malibu
we both claimed
to have won
there’s that wistful smile
when I think of parting
and a longing
in my heart
like an endless stream
toward the memory
of we two
Bidding Farewell to So Seyang by Hwang Jini
Paulownia leaves fall on the moonlit yard;
In the frost, wild chrysanthemums turn yellow.
In the tall pavilion where the sky looks low,
We have lost count of the winecups we have emptied.
The stream flows cold, to the beat of the lyre;
Plum blossom fragrance mingles with the tune of his flute.
When we have bidden farewell tomorrow morning,
Our longing will flow on like an endless stream.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Being Visited by a Friend During Illness by Po Chü-i
I have been ill so long that I do not count the days;
At the southern window, evening—and again evening.
Sadly chirping in the grasses under my eaves
The winter sparrows morning and evening sing.
By an effort I rise and lean heavily on my bed;
Tottering I step towards the door of the courtyard.
By chance I meet a friend who is coming to see me;
Just as if I had gone specially to meet him.
They took my couch and set it in the setting sun;
They spread my rug and I lean on the balcony-pillar.
Tranquil talk was better than any medicine;
Gradually the feelings came back to my numbed heart.
gtranslated by Arthur Waley
A Touch of Grace by Yi Je-hyon
As I was washing silk by a willow-drawn stream,
A man riding a white horse held my hand, and took my heart.
Though rain drips from the eaves for three months,
How can his fragrance lingering on my fingers be washed away?
translated by Sung-Il Lee
eyes: for Lina
eyes that see all
eyes that see me
to be defenseless
in these eyes
is to be free
another from Ruba’iyat by Fernando Pessoa
Pain follows pleasure, which follows pain.
Today we drink wine in celebration,
Tomorrow we’ll drink it because we grieve.
But nothing from either wine will remain.
translated by Richard Zenith
from Ruba’iyat by Fernando Pessoa
Each day gives me cause to hope
For what no day can ever give me.
Each day makes me weary from hoping . . .
But to live is to hope and to grow weary.
translated by Richard Zenith
After a Folk Song by Song Kan
Green bamboo remains upright in the wind;
But duckweed drifts on the wavering water.
I wish you to be like green bamboo
And not resemble duckweed, floating down the stream.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Leonard Durso 