56th Modern Korean Literature Translation Awards Poetry Grand Prize: Calling 1
Written by Pak Seo-won Translated by Sooj Heo Calling 1 I love. I love wild honey and locusts at my waist, flesh prepared for lust. Searing the back of my hand with a cigarette, growing fuller each time I sin, like bamboo, plunging my face into the pale green flame, weeping, I love. I love, like a little bird dead in a back alley, like a heaven-cursed ox wagging its last tail, in a world spun through eons, throwing a stone, stepping from stone to stone, from star to star, from moon to moon, barefoot, like a cart in the winter fields, circling your house once, circling your garden once, circling your eyes and circling your blood all night, flesh ready to be cursed. Called by god, getting lighter as my fingernails and toenails turn brown, becoming a downy rabbit, I love. I love, for a thousand years and ten thousand years, in a damned, damned wedding gown, blowing a horn, yes, bring greater pain. The more precarious I am, the happier I get, the more I writhe, the more beautiful I become, so free, the root of shame, I, with a whip and a pair of leather shoes at my waist, still driving the
Nov 4, 2025
