"Wind Burial 27" by Hwang Tong-gyu

Wind Burial 27

 

 

When I leave this world

I'll take my two hands, two feet, and my mouth.

I'll take my dim eyes, too, carefully covering them with my lids.

But I'd rather leave my ears,

Ears keen to catch the sound of late night rain

As it gives its arm to autumn’s shoulder.

Ears that know which autumn tree stands in rain

Only by listening

Will be left.