Poems of Lee Hee Kuk (South Korea)

 

Mr. Lee, Hee Kuk is a Korean poet. He was born in Seoul, South Korea. He is a pharmacist and Adjunct Professor at the College of Pharmacy, The Catholic University of Korea. He is a member of the Executive Board of PEN Korean Center of PEN International. He is the president of the Ieodo Literature Association and vice president of the Korean Association of World Literature. He has published five poetry books and has won four literature awards.

Faded Time

A few books I opened without thinking,

In the yellowed corners,

Forty years old time is sitting

Through several moves

and packing and unpacking,

Within the piles of books that followed me,

Preserved are the times of my youth

One day, reading through the night

Dostoevsky and Hermann Hesse

Rilke and Baudelaire

Park In-hwan's ‘horse and lady’, and Virginia Woolf

Like pen marks underlined,

Slowly fading scents of that day

In the books of that day

That quenched my thirst for tomorrow

Lies my forty years.

A Calculated Farewell 

Only a frail body remains in the lash of the wind.

Willingly offering itself,

A tree steadfastly endures the chill of time,

Not fearing the whip.

The law of trees where fruit hangs from new branches,

And shedding leaves only brings forth more shoots,

Trees compete forward by shedding leaves.

After burning the final hue for the sake of new leaves,

Leaves fall, simply surrendering to the breeze,

Departing the path without regrets.

As I grow older, am I more entangled in attachments?

Unable to follow the laws of nature,

Is it resistance to a life that fades too quickly?

Though knowing emptiness brings lightness,

I still tightly grasp onto greater regrets than my heart can bear.

December

The dry creak of bone pain 

Silent cry

An unfulfilled cold chest

To prevent hard times,

They used to tear flesh and feed you 

Still the same now

You, who dislike the past are wiping away even the traces of remaining time

Like green leaves without moisture 

The sound of cracking Oh, they stand up with the sound like a cane

With a hunched body, 

they only apologize Just because they are parents 

They are praying for you

December is preparing to leave somewhere.

Fall asleep covered in moonlight

The boat fell asleep holding on to a rope.

That wooden ship

After the storm that came a few days ago went far out to sea,

The wooden ship is in a deep sleep.

The fisherman's forearm that raised even the cries of birds

Even the strong arms of a fisherman are anchored somewhere

A predator stirring in the water

A school of small fish being chased

By now, they too must have been hiding and sleeping among some seaweed.

Even the waves that grew after drinking the milk of the sea

I'm resting now

The moonlight gently sways as if stroking your back

No one can touch this silence

This deep sleep was left behind by the storm.

Evening in the park

A waste tire half-stuck on one side of the playground

The semi-circle of tires is listening to the sound of evening coming, but

Tire, a tied body, has no way to run.

On the leaves of the surrounding cherry trees

The sunlight collects the fingerprints that were taken individually

Crossing the western ridge,

Across the empty playground where the children have returned

Footprints in the evening are clear

lying waste tire

Memories set like a sunset and ran like an animal.

The wave pattern is blurry.

Stories are piled up behind the trees at the end of the day.

Time to fasten your collar

Waste tires with discharged speed

Can it burn the darkness tonight and run through this city?

While the wind starts,

Beyond today's border

The evening’s family gathers in droves.