Poems of Heo, Hyung-man (South Korea)

Poet Heo, Hyung-man

Poet Heo Hyung-man was born in 1945 in Suncheon, Jeollanam-do, South Korea. He made his literary debut in 1973 through the literary magazine Wolgan Munhak (Monthly Literature). He has published 20 poetry collections, including Eyes of the Soul, Ecstasy, Wind Sword, and Encounter. His works have also been published abroad, including the Chinese poetry collection 許炯万詩賞析 and the Japanese poetry collection 耳な葬る.

He has received numerous literary honors, such as the Korean Poets Association Award, the Yeongrang Poetry Literature Award, the Pyeonun Literature Award, and the Gongcho Literature Award.

He is currently an Emeritus Professor at Mokpo National University and the 9th President of the Korean Association of World Literature.

Theory of Love

Love is a great abundance of thought.

A sea of thought—surging, yet never overflowing.

A mountain range of dazzling thoughts.

A well of thought that deepens endlessly in times of sorrow.

A tree of thought that trembles like petals in moments of joy.

Love is what fills an empty soul.

O you who sit by the window at dusk, waiting for a new star to rise,

O you who quietly dream when that new star begins to shine.

Red Plum Blossoms

A single wooden chair

beneath an old red plum tree

receives falling petals

with its whole body

and takes in the shadows between the petals as well.

A life touched by petals and their shadows,

How could a life be so utterly beautiful?

Walking Through a Winter Field

Before drawing near,

it seems to have nothing,

as though it could grow nothing at all—

walking through a winter field

When I endured the biting edge of the wind

long enough to face it fully,

I came instead to feel a deeper warmth.

Scattered flakes of snow, not yet fully melted,

toss and turn, dreaming of sinking into the embrace of the earth.

Between the ridges of rice paddies and fields,

short, fresh green grasses gather close together,

waiting for the sunlight that slowly approaches.

Beneath my shoes, the clinging, muddy soil

felt as heavy as the burden of life,

yet here I sensed that every pain we know

was resting in quiet ease.

Walking through a winter field,

whether it is the field or a human life,

without ever truly drawing near,

I will no longer carelessly say

that it has nothing,

that it can grow nothing.

(Selected as a “Best Gwanghwamun Message Board Post” by citizens; included in the National Academic Achievement Test for first-year high school students.)