My Old Guitar Remembers Only a Sad Score

By Pak Jeong Dae

Translated by Rodney E. Tyson & Hong Eun-Taek

The Quarterly Review: Poetry & Criticism, 5(1), pp. 248-249. Spring 2002.

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I roamed about like a gypsy and met you
As if you had come a long way
Like a grain of dust carved by the wind
You stood on the road absentmindedly
Even though I wanted to wet your dry lips
With a drop of blue spring water from my heart
Ah, I roamed about like a gypsy
And lost my heart one day long ago
The blue spring water in my heart
Has also followed the way of my tears
And has gone to the sea
Now I have only this very old guitar
My old guitar remembers only a sad score
Under the pouring sunlight
If I stroke the neck of the guitar
Ga-eung ga-eung, my guitar
Makes the sound of a cat in my memory
If only the pitiful flow of the trembling sound
Could blow away the dust of your flesh
On this dusty road
You could rise again
As a leaf of green music
I roamed about like a gypsy and at long last met you
As if you had come a long way alone
Now you stand in front of me absentmindedly
Fluttering like a sad score

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The Quarterly Review: Poetry & Criticism | Curriculum Vitae