​​​​​FOR NIRVANA 
108 ZEN SIJO POEMS      

CHO OH-HYUN
  

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ntroductory by KWON YOUNGMIN

translated by HEINZ INSU FENKLE 

Associate professor of English and Asian studies at SUNY New Paltz.

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75

WHEN THE THUNDER GOD CAME TO MY BODY

Today, out of a mad sky, the thunder god came into my body

saying, Let¡¯s smash the world to bits and ride the lightning to the

West.

Even just a flashing bolt leaves me all choked up.

Peel off this coagulated blood porridge, you¡¯ll see

the landmines on the path, not an inch of dirt to bury them,

and thoughts of moving up are a walk, footsteps on that bridge.

Sorrows-they pile up day by day like fallen leaves,

unweighable till the end, the load of freedom.

Long time from now, I¡¯ll be alone, unable, to label, this day.

76

OPENING THE MOUNTAIN-SIDE WINDOW

When I spread out the Flower Garland Sutra and open the north

window.

All manner of birds, names unknown to me, have already

read it.

Here and there, between the tree branches, they fly...

Blades of grass amidst the grasses, lawn bugs amongst the insects,

Trees, shrubs, wild beasts of the mountain, large and smal,

Heaven, Earth-all of this-all these lives...

Merging into one, and becoming one

They leave their bodies and appear, visible,

Sustenance, each to each, radiant, each other for the one...

77

PROXIMATION

spring coming, and a frog-

that one frog-its incessant croaking

calls me out from sitting

in my cell, and then-

mountain and meadow,

the frozen flora,

ice up and go green again

78

SUN & MOON

the sky- that high,

the sea-this deep,

the last rays of twilight sunk on the horizon,

clouds like dyed flowers

and the great of Heaven, opening, as if to close-

Ah!-the moon is rising in the east again

79

ARISING, PASSING, ATTACHMENT

for Yi Yun-yeong, wife of Son Hak-kyu

In your garden, when autumn passed like a cloudburst,

A single fruit, all the world¡¯s flavors clutched inside,

Falls with a thud-

A shriveled quince.

80

THE WIND THAT ONCE WEPT

IN THE PINE GROVE

The wind that once wept in the pine grove

fell asleep-because it was a pine grove

and the wind that once rushed through the great forest

breathed softly-because it was the great forest

that moon, too, passing through the empty sky,

is honest-it cannot be anything but bright

81

GWANSEUM

The candle-lit dream is melting, dyed with lotus blossom,

Yet after your final bath, you still cannot take the lotus seat.

You are the Bodhisattva who cannot bear the sounds of sorrow.

The 108 prayers in your grasp, the more you count, the heavier

They grow, scattered thoughts strung, bead by bead

As you stand in the moonlight garden, watching over Paradise.

82

THIS BODY OF MINE

I went up to the top of Namsan and watched the sun go down

Seoul was a dark, red, frothing swamp

And in it, this body of mine, a leech stuck to a duckweed leaf

83

THE DAY I TRY DYING

The day I get the death notice

I try dying myself-

Build a coffin, close my eyes,

lie down inside;

Sprinkle blue-smoke ashes

from the oven of the crematorium.

84

AS I LOOK UPON MYSELF

Sitting, in the meditation hall,

I look upon myself-

a single bug crawling by

stretching its body, contracts it;

gnawing at all manner of things,

it evacuates, but

also does lay its eggs.

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