The dead are dead but the living are still alive
so we light a fire in the midst of the eleventh month.
Twigs catch fire quickly, burn in a flash,
Thick sticks burn long but catch fire slowly,
Handfuls of dry leaves blaze up
then big branches burn lonesome, all alone.
The silently swelling grave mound
is like a nail in the heart
so we walk up and down, up and down but
that’s only walking up and down;
the remarkable void once the fire goes out.
Forgive us
that we keep rummaging in our empty pockets,
after burying you alone in the cold ground,
lighting a fire beside you,
straightening our clothes in the wind beside you.
Forgive us
that we go back down the hill alone,
that we go home alone.
Kim Sa-in (b. 1955) was born in Boeun, North Chungcheong Province and studied Korean Literature in Seoul National University. He has published two volumes of poetry, Letter Written at Night (1987) and Quietly Liking (2006). His early poems were marked by the yearning for democracy and justice in the face of social injustice, and his recent poems strive for lyrical depth through compassion and sympathy with the world. He is the recipient of Hyundae Literary Award (2005) and Daesan Literary Award (2006) and now teaches creative writing at Dongduk Women’s University. As for him, writing poetry is to question things tirelessly and the poet is not just a questioner but also the person who tries to answer the questions and put the answers into practice.
