What colors sing to your longing soul?
by Nur abdur Rashid
.
What colors sing to your longing soul, now.
in accompaniment to the symphony
of birds celebrating here your awakening, today?
.
And that longing that dodges
in and out of the inviting, refreshing, shadowy canopy
of the pine groves of your most liberating
and verdant fulfillment?
Tell me of its origins;
when did this longing befriend you, really–or
did you befriend it?
.
(Spring 2005)
.
.
This poem was the beginning of a dialogue with
one of the seniors, as we sojourned into the
hearth of his longing.
.
We continued exchanging the paper,
with one of the last replies being a
green ribbon I attached to the final sheet,
a ribbon which was part of the wrappings
used by another senior to present me with
a fresh bottle of her grandmother’s
homemade olive oil (out of a homestead
somewhere in Andong, South Korea, I think).
.
If the ribbon, or the moment, has survived
the gulf stream, some day a link to
that continuum may re-manifest here.
.
=============================
In the mean time,
another meditation; on longing…
on the hope of the reunification of
North and South Korea, and what manner
of deliberate passion will allow
the rainy wind-blown night to recede;
that our name may become one, eternally.
Thank you InSooni and Crew
========================
비 상 (Flight)
작사: 강찬우 작곡: 전준규 팬곡: 김민수
Performed by 이인순 (Insooni)
Composite English Translation
by Mr. Johnson’s “8th wave” Seniors class
here at the burgeoning Korean Minjok Leadership Academy
http://www.reocities.com/minjokhan/8thIvyIV/02autumn.html
또어김없이 태양이 비추면 더높이 오를 날개를 펴듯이
저 볼꽃처럼 타오르는 눈빛에 온 천지를 휘감는
바람마저 머무네
.
[(As) when]
Again, without fail, the sun gives light,
As it comes higher still on wings unfurled;
Before eyes ablaze like that flowering fire;
even the winds embracing all of heaven and Earth are stayed.
.
.
널 기다렸어 넌 꿈이었어 내 모두를 걸갰어
비바람 부는 긴 밤을 지나 곧 새벽이 오듯이
다시 일어나 크게 소리처 더 높은 하늘 위에서
이제는 너의 꿈을 내게 보여줘
.
I have been waiting for you. You have been a dream. My all would I stake
Rainy and wind-blown, the long night passes, as soon the new dawn comes
Again, arise; loudly shout out, above the higher Heavens.
From now… show me your dream.
.
.
넌 잠시라도 더 머물 순 없어 저편에 있는 희망을 향해서
.
온 힘을 다해 대지를 박차 올라 / 두발 힘껏 딛고서
나의 손을 잡아줘
.
Not even for a moment can you be resting;
Make towards the dream that is on the other side…
[North look South, South Korea look North]
With all your might, spur the great earth; spring up,
Rebounding on two feet together. Grab my hand!
.
.
널 기다렸어 넌 꿈이었어 내 모두를 걸갰어
비바람 부는 긴 밤을 지나 곧 새벽이 오듯이
다시 일어나 크게 소리처 더 높은 하늘 위에서
이제는 너의 꿈을 내게 보여줘
.
I have been waiting for you. You have been a dream. My all would I stake
Rainy and wind-blown, the long night passes, as soon the new dawn comes
Again, arise; loudly shout out, above the higher Heavens.
From now… show me your dream.
.
.
널 기다렸어 넌 꿈이었어 내 모두를 걸갰어
비바람 부는 긴 밤을 지나 곧 새벽이 오듯이
다시 일어나 크게 소리처 더 높은 하늘 위에서
.
이제 또 다른 너를 내게 보여줘
우리의 이름이 영원히 하나 되도록
.
I have been waiting for you.
You have been a dream (for which) my all would I stake.
Rainy and wind-blown, the long night passes,
as soon the new dawn comes.
Again, arise; loudly shout out, above the higher Heavens.
.
Now too, let me see a different you,
that our name may become one, eternally.
.
.
=============================
.
Finally… (?)
Where there is no vision
And Hope is banned,
Love is dead…
Where Imagination suffers
Divers languors,
Love struggles to resurrect…
Oh, who will trail
Yon Jaded Imagination
Back to a realm where
Love may Grow and Thrive?
Fourteen days into February, still
Winter’s frost may shill the will,
who can assure that
Love is Alive?
Who will repress evil, here
and honor good everywhere
In the spirit of divine law? Who?
Like the flowering fire above Heaven,
They are the truly wealthy, indeed,
And Thrive In Gardens underneath which
Rivers flow.
Make it plain,
Over space and time:
The meek shall inherit the earth; then,
Eternally, this joy will last, when
Love makes death a thing of the past.
Nur abdur Rashid
(October 2005)
===========================
This poem was the beginning of a dialogue with
one of the seniors, as we sojourned into the
hearth of his longing.
We continued exchanging the paper,
with one of the last replies being a
green ribbon I attached to the final sheet,
a ribbon which was part of the wrappings
used by another senior to present me with
a fresh bottle of her grandmother’s
homemade olive oil (out of a homestead
somewhere in Andong, South Korea, I think).
If the ribbon, or the moment, has survived
the gulf stream, some day a link to
that continuum may re-manifest here.
In the mean time,
another meditation; on longing…
on the hope of the reunification of
North and South Korea, and what manner
of deliberate passion will allow
the rainy wind-blown night to recede;
that our name may become one, eternally.
.
.
Thank you, InSooni and Crew:
.
