Poetry and translation from Korean by Ihlwha Choi
Last night, in the bitter cold,
the bird died.
We decided on a five-day funeral,
debating whether to bury or cremate,
and finally chose a sky burial
on a sunlit grassy hill.
After preparing the body
and finishing the rites,
we headed to the burial site.
A green parrot,
untimely lost, died unaware of the season.
Leaves had just begun to sprout,
and the spring wind blew
across the bright meadow.
Driving the hearse to the site,
we scattered grains for the journey,
and laid the body gently
amid the dry grass.
In the distance, clouds billowed
like funeral banners,
and after a few sparrows
came to pay their respects,
the funeral was over.
The bird had died,
but its flight lived on.
When we returned for the third memorial,
the bird was nowhere to be seen—
its rain-soaked remains
had dried and scattered in the wind.
Ihlwha Choi is a South Korean poet. He has published multiple poetry collections, such as Until the Time When Our Love will Flourish, The Color of Time, His Song and The Last Rehearsal.
.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL.
Click here to access the Borderless anthology, Monalisa No Longer Smiles
Click here to access Monalisa No Longer Smiles on Kindle Amazon International
Borderless 