Poems of Yunjeong Heo (South Korea)

Poetess Ms. Yunjeong Heo

Poetess Ms. Yunjeong Heo was born in Sancheong-gun, Korea. She began her literary career in 1980 with the publication of her poems in the Hyundae Munhak(Modern Literature). She later founded the poetry magazine Mack, serving as its publisher and editor for 11 years.
Ms. Heo is currently an executive member of PEN Korea Center, a member of the Planning Committee of the Korean Poets’ Association, and a member of the South-North Exchange Committee of the Korean Writers’ Association.
She has published several poetry collections, including Among them are A Corner of the Empty Sky, The Secret of the Crested Ibis, At the Gate of Tiny Wildflowers, The Land of Stars, The House Where Double Plum Blossoms Bloom, A Seorae Village Woman, One Hundred One-Line Poems and many others. Her literary achievements have been recognized with numerous awards, such as the 1st Baekja Art Award, the 1st Sinsaimdang Literary Award, PEN Korea Center Prize for Literature (2016), and the 20th Korean Writers’ Association Award (2023).
 
 
 
The Stone Lantern with Its Light Out
 
Only the mountain’s shadow trembles.
Looking back, this world
has left no trace of coming or going.
Even the void refuses every stroke,
truly, no trace of coming or going remains.
On this spring night of blooming flowers and chirping birds,
through a thousand darkened years,
who is there to rekindle the light of this world?
What passing traveler, who is there to light the flame
in that stone lantern?
 
 
The 13th Day
 
The searchlight
torn by a razor
 
The sun wore a conical hat
The murdered piano
 
The bloodstain,
It is dancing music
 
A turning point,
It is the thorny-erupted crossing
 
Photographic paper wails like a siren,
the storytelling of a camera.
 
A montage is laughing.
 
 
Nostalgia
 
Insects' cries,
even the weeping of blood,
fade away on the wooded hills,
each night silence sweeps over them like waves across a desert.
The nostalgia soaked into my body paints my old hometown
 
The rice field ridges,
the furrowed ditches.
When twilight brims over,
children who tended and herded cattle
wander in search of their missing cows,
and oh, how sweet it was to hear the cuckoos call among the birds.