A Record of Crossing the River By Chyung Jin Kyu
Translated by Rodney E. Tyson & Hong Eun-Taek
The Quarterly Review: Poetry & Criticism, 2(4), 70-71. Winter 1999.
The Han River to me is always "Chyung Jin Keun." Chyung Jin Keun, the name of my eldest brother who went into the army during the Korean War. I still can'terase the symbolism. An erased name, a name my father reported as missing after waiting ten years. I still can't erase the symbolism.
The Han River to me is always one volume of the Japanese Sanseito Concise English Dictionary. Chyung Jin Keun, imprinted in red with a wooden stamp on the first page. To me this volume is still my most precious rare book. I still can't erase the symbolism.
A broken down bridge, my mother and I took a small boat late at night. We ventured into Seoul. We crossed the river. Even though we had heard the news that he was drafted into the army, we sought out my brother's boarding house in Haebangchon. Yongsan Middle School 6th Grade Chyung Jin Keun, a volume with this written in my brother's own handwriting, I brought it from that room. I came here. Fifty years passed.
I always cross the river that way. I cross the Han River with one volume of the Sanseito Concise English Dictionary. A broken down bridge, there is no bridge over the Han River. I am always crossing the river that way. A small boat is always creaking. I can't even cough. I still can't erase the symbolism.
The Quarterly Review: Poetry & Criticism | Curriculum Vitae