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
16th Century Korean poetry
On Taedong River by Im Je
As I watch girls walking on spring grass,
Willows drooping on the river make my heart ache.
If I could weave these thread-like willows,
I’d make a gown in which my love could dance.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Meerting in Dreams by Hwang Jini
Pining for each other, we can meet only in dreams;
Yet while I rejoice to see you there, you rejoice to see me here.
If we are to dream of each other on a night to come,
Let us set out at the same time to meet on the road.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Elegy for Myself by Ki Joon
When the sun sets, the sky is inky dark;
Deep in the mountains, the ravine is cloudy.
All the human wishes retained for a thousand years
Are finally fulfilled by a single mound.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
Rainy Night by Chong Ch’ol
Cold night rain rustles the bamboo,
And crickets tell of autumn near my bed.
How can I hold the fleeting years at bay?
I cannot keep my hair from turning white.
translated by Sung-Il Lee
To the Moon by Song Ik-pil
When on the wane, you are always impatient to wax,
but how do you so easily wane after waxing?
You are full only once in a month’s thirty nights:
man’s mind in a lifetime is exactly the same.
translated by Kim Jong-gil
Boating at Dusk by Song Ik-pil
Lost among flowers, the boat returns late;
expecting the moon, it drifts slowly down the shoals.
Though I’m drunk, I still drop a line:
the boat moves on, but not my dream.
translated by Kim Jong-gil
untitled poem 2 by Hwang Chin-i
The blue hill is my desire,
the green stream my beloved’s love.
Even if the stream flows away,
how can the hill ever change?
Never forgetting the hill, I wonder,
does the stream cry as it leaves?
translated by Ko Won
untitled poem 1 by Hwang Chin-i
I cut in two
A long November night, and
Place half under the coverlet,
Sweet-scented as a spring breeze.
And when he comes, I shall take it out,
Unroll it inch by inch, to stretch the night.
translated by Peter H. Lee
Sitting at Night by Om Ui-Gil
A quiet valley with no one’s footprints,
an empty garden lit by the moon.
Suddenly my dog barks and I know
a friend with a bottle is knocking at the gate.
translated by Kim Jong-gil
Leonard Durso 