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Subject FOR NIRVANA /Korean Seon(zen) Master Cho Oh-Hyun 雪嶽 霧山 曺五鉉-3
Name   관리자 Hit 174

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FOR NIRVANA 



 


108 ZEN SIJO POEMS 



 


CHO OH-HYUN
 



 


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introductory by KWON YOUNGMIN



 


translated by HEINZ INSU FENKLE 



 


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



 



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11



 


REGARDING MY PENMANSHIP



 


 



 


I looked at the stuff



 


I scrawled yesterday:



 


 



 


It’s appropriate-like a confession



 


of all my life’s crimes.



 


 



 


I should’ve just tossed that brush



 


and gone to sleep, right?



 


 



 


The paper, crammed with blood-ink



 


I ground from my aching heart,



 


 



 


Spread wide as the sky-is it an affront



 


to Heaven?-my body trembles,



 


 



 


Mashed to a pulp, even the source



 


of thoughts I wrote just now.



 


 



 


12



 


WEEKEND SCRAWL



 


 



 


As he departed last weekend, having rested for the night,



 


an old man said,



 


 



 


The world



 


is like an untraveled thread,



 


like the skin on a fan,



 


like the splayed wing of an insect.



 


His body spread with moxibustion wormwood in the bright blood,



 


he left,



 


 



 


navel plenty red.



 


 



 


13



 


WILD FOX



 


One walks into the worldless text,



 


One walks out



 


And when the two meet, each to each ,



 


they are wild foxes.



 


 



 


14



 


HOASRE



 


 



 


Buy into this world, and you’re



 


saddled with some ingratitude,



 


 



 


The paper’s not fit for the floor, but



 


still, you stain it with perilla oil;



 


 



 


And-naturally-you’ve got to let some



 


words out beyond those walls.



 


 



 


15



 


SPEAKING WITHOUT SPEAKING-1



 


Eoseongjeon, Gangwon province, on



 


the funeral day of the potter, Old Man Kim:



 


 



 


There was no funeral ceremony or mourners, but there was a rumor



 


that his wife, who had died thirty years earlier, appeared with her



 


hair down, and holding onto his bier, she cried, Look here, look



 


here! Leave me, leave me, at least your fiery anger when you go! and the dead Old Man Kim replied, All of my anger,anger, I made into pottery, pottery.



 


 



 


Actually, this was



 


a rale told



 


by the bier-bearers.



 


 



 


16



 


SPEAKING WITHOUT SPEAKING-2



 


 



 


an old fisherman from Daepo



 


on the shore of the East Sea; when he:



 


 



 


goes to the sea-he becomes the sea



 


goes to the temple-he becomes the temple



 


 



 


wherever his life may go



 


know him as a wave



 


 



 


17



 


SPEAKING WITHOUT SPEAKING-3



 


 



 


don’t try to tell me it’s good, the valley of the Cave



 


of the Thousand Buddhas in Outer Seorak



 


 



 


I should be lying there, on that just of rock



 


gazing up at the sky



 


 



 


Listening to the sound of water



 


flowing beneath the stone...



 


 



 


18



 


SPEAKING WITHOUT SPEAKING-4



 


 



 


who painted the mural



 


in the Museol shrine hall



 


 



 


a stork, a blind carp



 


in its beak



 


 



 


craning its neck



 


awaiting the artist’s return



 


 



 


19



 


SPEAKING WITHOUT SPEAKING-5



 


 



 


On the second of last month



 


a head monk came



 


 



 


and asked me the meaning



 


of Bodhidharma’s coming from the West



 


 



 


I told him that Inner Seorak’s ᅟᅲᆷ당므 Valley



 


there are lots of flat rocks.



 


 



 


20



 


SPEAKING WITHOUT SPEAKING-6



 


 



 


The rugged farmland at the temple



 


working on the dike between the paddles-



 


 



 


Master! Master! People say they hear



 


the sound of paddy water



 


flowing through their bodies!



 


 



 


Life is like that-



 


a paddy with a broken dike,



 


thirsting endlessly.



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