Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
Μετάφραση: Byeong Cheol Kang
Poetess Yang Geum-Hee was born in 1967 in Jeju, South Korea.
She published 2 collections of poetry “Happiness Account”, “Ieodo, Island of Legend and Existence”, and 1 collections of essay “Happy Companion”.
She won 4 Literary Award.
She was the first president of the Ieodo Literature Association, the editor in chief of the Jeju in News. And worked as a research fellow of the Society of Ieodo Research. She served as a researcher at Jeju Sea Grand Center at Jeju National University and a special professor at Jeju International University.
Currently, she is an editorial writer of New Jeju Ilbo, a special researcher at the Institute of Social Sciences of Jeju National University, a vice-president of the Jeju Regional Committee of the International PEN Korea Headquarters, an Executive of the Jeju Institute for the Korean Unification and an Executive of the Korean Association of Ethics.
Which is in the Heaven
Needless memorize password for Account
Even at night,
shining star lights fill in the Happy account
So, don’t worry about bankruptcy
Even though it’s a cloudy day
Believe that the clouds do contain Happy account,
Behind of their dark clouds
When you see blue sky,
It’s a day,
You transfer love to Happy account
Withdrawal is Always Possible
The interest rate is high
The wind doesn’t ask the way
No matter how much time goes by,
Wind never getting older
Even though Wind doesn’t have a mouth
Wind always say something What have to say
Even though Wind doesn’t have eyes
Never lose her direction
When Wind face an angular face,
Wind always blowing somewhere else,
Without scratching or hurting
Wind Never stay,
even though face soft face
When can I run on the crooked road on the earth,
without asking for directions
A Crape Myrtle
When you get discouraged,
I call you a crape myrtle
Hoping you might be full of life,
As a flower tree red for one hundred days,
A crape myrtle.
Named like that
Your appearance, withering with heat,
Might recover subtle aroma and
Rosy color again,
And for one hundred days
You may put out prink buds,
I call you
A crape myrtle,
Pretending as if I don’t know your name.
It is called crape myrtle as a red flowers of one hundred, because it takes about 100 days from the beginning of flowering in July until all the flowers wither.
The Yellow Jumper
The yellow winter jumper,
Received as a gift long ago,
Much regret follows
As much as fondness
For the lost things.
Where did I put
The bright color of purity
On the gray pavement?
It is so clear
My days of chick’s downy hair,
Spring time it was
Lost, so remaining forever in my heart.
Essay on soil
Soil is the mother of all living things
Giving a Belly to bear seeds
Giving warm hugs for raise
Giving fond look to the tender buds
Hold trees which is swaying in the wind
Permit its root deep into her flesh
Regardless of grains and weeds,
treat them without discrimination
Ants and elephants,
Neither the wicked or the good,
All step on earth’s back and walk a long way
Peace and rage, war and love
All equal on the ground
Crumble on the soil
When all things turn to dust and lie down
Earth Hug warmly and tightly