서른 살 (Thirty Years Old)

By | 6 August 2011

The sound of a grandfather clock at the end of a dark corridor,
between one and two,
even between eleven and twelve,
it strikes just once.
It is an unexpected awakening, a sterile arousal.
It doesn’t inform us what middle zone
between A o’clock and B o’clock we are passing.

Just the fact you have trodden half of something.

As if everything depends on your decision whether you return or proceed,
the sins committed from now on would be remembered till death.

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