By Choi Yearn-hong
Visiting Busan offered me a chance to meet new poets and writers in the area during the Sixth Busan Literature Festival on June 21-24. During the Festival program, I delivered a keynote speech on nostalgia, a source of my literature , and read five of my own poems, including "Flowers in the Borderland," in Korean and English, as a Korean-American poet.
Then, I met Woo Ah-ji. editor of City Literature, the official literary magazine of Busan Poets and Writers Association, who gave me a copy of her most recent poetry book, "Star*Guest," in kindness. I found that her poem "Lisbon" (page 70), goes well with my travel poem from Portugal, "Flowers in the Borderland." Here is "Lisbon" in my English translation, followed by "Flowers in the Borderland."
"Lisbon"
Sorrows, growing and spreading over the Atlantic Ocean,
During my observation of it at the end of the Continent
Afternoon walking in the narrow city street
Once most glorious history in background
The color of the deep sea in Amalio Rodgrigues' fado
Reminds me of my bygone days, suddenly
"Flowers in the Borderland"
Flowers in the borderland are beautiful as
any flower in the center of the continent ,
but not many people watch the flowers in the borderland.
That is sad.
The sailors returning from the other side of the ocean
know that the borderland flowers are equally beautiful
or more beautiful than any flowers on any port of call;
No flower is more beautiful than their wives or lovers at home.
The longer their separation is,
the more tearful their reunion will be.
The more tearful their reunion is,
the more beautiful love is blossomed in a flower.
Don't feel sad!
I am going to tell the world that
the flowers I saw on the cliffs in Portugal
are the most beautiful flowers, unforgettable.
The images of the two poems are Lisbon's glorious past over the current melancholic economic and political scenes. Woo Ah-ji is a "sijo" poetess, and I am a poet of free or prose poems, which are more revealing.
The first poem in her poetry book, "Star*Guest," is in stark contrast with the last poem, "Confession." In the opening poem, she lovingly waits and prepares a welcome dinner for a guest coming to her house, using all the ingredients she has and her heart. I placed myself in her poem as the star-like guest. However, the last poem is about sadness. However, I can place myself in her guest star and in her confession. She has accommodated me in a nice way in her poems. This is her magical power. Further, she created a word, "Star*Guest," in her poetry. I cannot find such a star in astronomy. She has a creative word power all her own. Here is "Confession," also in my translation.
"Confession"
Who cares a beautiful spring day
― You are far away from me
Who cares the cherry blossom
― In a few days, all flowers will fade away
Who cares you regret
― You will regret that regret soon
All her poems are lively and dignified as first-class sijo poems. However, she has modernized the traditional sijo poems for more modern audiences, even though she maintains the traditional form, which is basically short and regulated. Her sijo poems are condensed with proper poetic ambiguity and metaphors but can be easily read by anyone who loves poetry. Sophisticated poetry has lost readers in Korea and elsewhere recently. I believe in poetry's Renaissance with her style of sijo poems. We cannot go back to the times of Sowol and Chongrokpa poets, but we should be able to balance the tradition and modernity in poetry.
Woo Ah-ji is her pen name, and her legal name is Hyun-sook. I love her pen name, pure Korean word of young girl. She was called Ah-ji when she was a young bookworm in her hometown in Hamyang, South Gyeongsang Province, in the valley of Mount Jiri. She picked her pen name from her youth nickname. She is known also as an essayist.
In this modern age, Busan should be proud of its own local autonomy and should be able to present its own international literary festival with its own creative sea-bound programs that must be distinguishable from Seoul's central government-centered programs.
Dr. Choi is a Washington-based poet and writer.
 |
| Cover of "Star*Guest" by Woo Ah-ji |
 |
| Poet Woo Ah-ji |
Then, I met Woo Ah-ji. editor of City Literature, the official literary magazine of Busan Poets and Writers Association, who gave me a copy of her most recent poetry book, "Star*Guest," in kindness. I found that her poem "Lisbon" (page 70), goes well with my travel poem from Portugal, "Flowers in the Borderland." Here is "Lisbon" in my English translation, followed by "Flowers in the Borderland."
"Lisbon"
Sorrows, growing and spreading over the Atlantic Ocean,
During my observation of it at the end of the Continent
Afternoon walking in the narrow city street
Once most glorious history in background
The color of the deep sea in Amalio Rodgrigues' fado
Reminds me of my bygone days, suddenly
"Flowers in the Borderland"
Flowers in the borderland are beautiful as
any flower in the center of the continent ,
but not many people watch the flowers in the borderland.
That is sad.
The sailors returning from the other side of the ocean
know that the borderland flowers are equally beautiful
or more beautiful than any flowers on any port of call;
No flower is more beautiful than their wives or lovers at home.
The longer their separation is,
the more tearful their reunion will be.
The more tearful their reunion is,
the more beautiful love is blossomed in a flower.
Don't feel sad!
I am going to tell the world that
the flowers I saw on the cliffs in Portugal
are the most beautiful flowers, unforgettable.
The images of the two poems are Lisbon's glorious past over the current melancholic economic and political scenes. Woo Ah-ji is a "sijo" poetess, and I am a poet of free or prose poems, which are more revealing.
The first poem in her poetry book, "Star*Guest," is in stark contrast with the last poem, "Confession." In the opening poem, she lovingly waits and prepares a welcome dinner for a guest coming to her house, using all the ingredients she has and her heart. I placed myself in her poem as the star-like guest. However, the last poem is about sadness. However, I can place myself in her guest star and in her confession. She has accommodated me in a nice way in her poems. This is her magical power. Further, she created a word, "Star*Guest," in her poetry. I cannot find such a star in astronomy. She has a creative word power all her own. Here is "Confession," also in my translation.
"Confession"
Who cares a beautiful spring day
― You are far away from me
Who cares the cherry blossom
― In a few days, all flowers will fade away
Who cares you regret
― You will regret that regret soon
All her poems are lively and dignified as first-class sijo poems. However, she has modernized the traditional sijo poems for more modern audiences, even though she maintains the traditional form, which is basically short and regulated. Her sijo poems are condensed with proper poetic ambiguity and metaphors but can be easily read by anyone who loves poetry. Sophisticated poetry has lost readers in Korea and elsewhere recently. I believe in poetry's Renaissance with her style of sijo poems. We cannot go back to the times of Sowol and Chongrokpa poets, but we should be able to balance the tradition and modernity in poetry.
Woo Ah-ji is her pen name, and her legal name is Hyun-sook. I love her pen name, pure Korean word of young girl. She was called Ah-ji when she was a young bookworm in her hometown in Hamyang, South Gyeongsang Province, in the valley of Mount Jiri. She picked her pen name from her youth nickname. She is known also as an essayist.
In this modern age, Busan should be proud of its own local autonomy and should be able to present its own international literary festival with its own creative sea-bound programs that must be distinguishable from Seoul's central government-centered programs.
Dr. Choi is a Washington-based poet and writer.
