Land dry and dusty, houses low as boundary tablets
Roads twisted just as marked on the map
Rooster loses its voice
Hair a mess

Wine is sour, smile bitter
The meaning of a still life lies in its stillness
Rows of candle-shaped poplars poked into the body
Hands sunk in the peasant’s cumbersome black overcoat

Yet not a bystander, but with eyes focused straight
Looking at all the heart can’t see
A pen, clumsy and with difficulty
Writes, squeezing out mud, striking sparks

(January 1, 1998)

真实

土地干燥起尘，房屋低矮像界桩
道路歪歪扭扭确如地图所绘
公鸡扯不起嗓子
头发乱成一团

酒是酸的，笑容很苦
风景的含义在于无风
成排的蜡状白杨戳进肉体里
袖手缩在大黑棉袄中

却并不旁观，而是直视
看着一切心看不见的东西
一支笔笨拙费力地
写着，挤出泥，迸出火花

(1998. 1. 1)

JUNE FLOWERS

In a place that needs no human gaze
Say, a marsh
Or an island
I’ll bare my feelings

To an open sky
A blue bay
Darting up into the vast infinity
Like a lone swallow

I’ll bare
Such emotions, just as
I sometimes slipped through the barred window of dreams
To pour out tender words by your pillow

Like a pool of clear water
Or a pool of warm blood
As if the heart
Keeps beating

But no one else has ever heard
I never wanted to
Live long in the world
Just as an ordinary lover

I’d rather be a
Smile of freedom, a face of youth
I’d rather be
(Ah, if you do not mind)

A bouquet of white flowers
To soothe the pain of a mother
Remembering her dead son
On an early June morning

(July 6, 2000)

六月花

在一个不需要人注目的地方
比如一片荒泽
或是一个孤岛
我愿袒露感情

向一片天空
一汪碧湾
有如一只孤燕
跃起在无垠之中

我愿袒露那样的
情感，就像
我有时越过梦的铁窗
向你倾吐的枕语

好似一泓清水
或是一腔热血
仿佛心
澎湃的跳动

但从未被任何别人听见
我从不愿只
作为普通的恋人
长存于世

我更愿作为自由的
微笑，年轻的脸
我更愿作为
（啊，如果你不反对）

一束六月清晨
在母亲纪念
夭折幼子时出现的
抒解痛苦的洁白的花

(2000. 7. 6)