Jeong Ho-seung's poem (51)

More so than those times in the mine

when only one worn-out side of my breast remained,

more so than those times when, stuck into a cracked paddy field

I waited anxiously for rain that did not come,

more so than those times when I gently fell asleep

leaning against a doorpost

after busily opening a sluice in a paddy field bank,

here in this mist-wrapped cemetery

as his coffin is lowered into the grave,

his whole body wrapped in white cloth,

this moment now, as I plant my feet on the earth’s red bosom,

I am my most beautiful self.

The mourners don white gloves, cross themselves,

then slowly pick me up and scoop out a spadeful of earth.

As he smiles, saying:

Thank you.

Love one another,

I turn into earth and fall onto his coffin.

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