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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).