(translated from the Korean by geul)

Though you call, in March, no one’s home
at the foot of Dongdaemun* blades of grass are soaked in secrecy.

*

Always along the same path we
fall into the house familiarly
down into the sleep out of this world and
though you all call from the deep marsh of dreaming
my love, because the light of the four thousand year sky is heavy
(in this scape of petals falling on flowing water
irresistibly drawn one to the other)
we are clouds with fettered feet.

*

When the masked wind
calls us out because it’s night
this hour’s ardent code
this epoch’s terrifying love where
death follows death
we cannot decipher.

poem in Korean

* Dongdaemun – “Great East Gate”