Lee Yeong-Gwang (이영광)

“Fifty” by Lee Yeong-Gwang

It’s been a blur, vague like the names of characters I can’t quite remember from a Russian novel I’ve read, but I am fifty. Disorienting, like an old sexual desire which eats Viagra to be...

Hwang In-Sook (황인숙)

“River” by Hwang In-Sook

Don’t open up to me about how lonely you are, how burdened you are, how much you want to go crazy, how sane you are. About the bugs in your heart, the moths in your...

Hwang Dong-Kyu (황동규)

“Small Love Song” by Hwang Dong-Kyu

I received a letter which held yesterday. The path that had always trailed behind you suddenly disappeared and everything that wasn’t the path went with it. Scattered stones which played with us as kids hide away their faces. I...

Ki Hyeong-Do (기형도)

“Jealousy is My Strength” by Ki Hyeong-Do

After much time has passed, a weak bookmark will make these pages fall. In the past, my heart filled so many booklets. Foolish, but there was much to write. I was anxious in the open...

Lee Hong (이홍)

“A Time of Goodbyes: Part 1” by Lee Hong

May, 1996: 19 year-old me is slowly slipping further away from home. The backs of a few buildings have already begun to blur by the time I arrive at the bus stop, bra strap adjusted...

Heo Yeong-Ja (허영자)

“Lover” by Heo Yeong-Ja

Gaze secretly downwards on clear days through clearness on rainy days through rain in dew in flowers in the morning star… my love in all creation it is you I see.   그윽히 굽어보는 눈길...

Hwang Yoon-Sook (황윤숙)

“To Loneliness” by Hwang Yoon-Sook

Some poets, on seeing a wheel, want to roll. Some painters, on seeing a flat surface lifted up, want to walk along inside it. Me, on seeing worn planks raised up and scattered, I want...

Jeong Yeon-Bin (정유빈)

Interview with Jeong Yeon-Bin

This post is a translation of an interview appearing on Channel Yes.   Jeong Yeon-Bin: “If there’s something you want to do, it’s not bad to do it alone.”   Please introduce yourself a little...

Jeong Il-Geun (정일근)

“Classroom with an Ocean View” by Jeong Il-Geun

So clear. Heat hardly knows to write anything but my name. In the window cleaned so kindly, a distant shoreline and an island—it’s tender brother. Something drawn by heat so thoughtfully for eyes chilled by...