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POETRY

The Cross

  • onDecember 21, 2017
  • Vol.38 Winter 2017
  • byYun Dong-ju
Sky, Wind and Stars
Tr. Kyung-nyun Kim Richards and Steffen F. Richards
2003

 

The sun was following me,

but it is now caught on the cross

on top of the church.

 

How can I get up

that high on the steeple?

 

No sound comes from the bell:

I might as well whistle and hang around.

 

If I were permitted my own cross,

like the man who suffered,

blessed Jesus Christ,

 

I would hang my head

and quietly bleed

blood that would blossom like a flower

under a darkening sky.

 

Translated by Kyung-nyun Kim Richards and Steffen F. Richards
From Sky, Wind and Stars.
Copyright © 2003 by Kyung-nyun Kim Richards and Steffen F. Richards.
Reprinted with the permission of Jain Publishing Company, Fremont, California (www.jainpub.com).