Peals of a Bell
Maeng Sook-Young
The conscience sharp edge stings my lung.
From the vast bronze pond of darkness
The cohered pride"s got bereft of and melted
Then will it be flowing into garnet water?
While flowing gets it purified in the valley
Ablutions performed thirty-three times
Will enable the dust of mine to fly as winds?
Or as shouts as blue as blue can be,
Getting breath on a wind wall in the forest,
Jumping over the streets where greeds crouch.
Where to go and stay has not been found,
A late-fall red dragonfly hovering in the sunlight
Has got wounded on the end of a wing.
It seems that a thread vein bursted in capillary.
The wing woven with silver thread is of beauty itself
The scar looks like a fingerprint
The shouting sound still exits as a cast skin
Where have you flown away lke a wind?
The way of flowing never coning back, on it
Let me flow and pass away in the form of clean mirror.
Translated by Bu Sang-HO
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