​​FOR NIRVANA 
108 ZEN SIJO POEMS   

CHO OH-HYUN
  

​​

ntroductory by KWON YOUNGMIN

translated by HEINZ INSU FENKLE 

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

​​

49

THE WAY TO BISEUL MOUNTAIN

Who is that returning on the winding road to Mt. Biseul,

past the trees all stripped of time, the cloud-covered gorges below?

Is it a pleasant that splits the sky with its fluttering wings?

No keomungo strings, but if you tread there, won¡¯t you hear the rhyme?

The road is spliced-as if to break-cut precipices-extending:

is that scent the spices of hail grains soaked into your clothes?

Does the temple sit, eyes shut, cloaked again in the inky dark?

Just as well to be tucked away, in isolation,obscure.

That lone bird, about now, does it drop a feather as it goes?

50

2007-SEOUL AT NOON

Today, a nude photo, halfway torn

At a crossroad on an alley wall amid the eateries of Sinsadong

And still, the Earth spins-

Galileos¡¯s whine

51

2007-SEOUL AT NIGHT

Mute tree, mute bird

A picture of me, sitting

Or

an island frozen over in the dark

Not that, either, but a loud bird sneezing

52

WILD DUCKS & SHADOW

When I ask him-Master Haejang,

hero of the hangover drink-

for tiding of the mountain temple,

he says, Yesterday the wild ducks

that played in the West Star lotus pond

went away, and now, today, only

the shadow of the dogwood remains.

53

WINTER MOUNTAIN BEASTS

Ate midwinter black bean gruel,

cast out all manner of demons

Fell asleep reading Master Joju¡¯s sayings

Crunch-a frozen tree breaking

in the deep lonely of a far mountain

54

A DAY AT OLD FRAGRANCE HALL

The sun slants in, onto the two-tiered wood floor

of Old Fragrance Hall

Through the hanging plaited bamboo shades,

The whole day flickering away.

Painting hanging askew on the wall:

a Taoist hermit with magical powers,

An old ferryman who¡¯s let go of the oar,

drifting with his fishing boat,

And again, so soon, I am the setting sun.

55

BODHIDHARMA 1

The whole of the West was yours-

and you gave it not a glance

The master, who sat so long in solitude,

purifying himself in flame

Has left us a commodity

at the close of the global exchange

56

BODHIDHARMA 2

Live-trying living-and not

a lucky dream in the world

Even your hereditary occupation

and mooching all used up

Attained your aim for a round, and still

no investors to do business Àð°í

57

BODHIDHARMA 3

A shame¡¯s New Year¡¯s offering bowl

left out beneath a boulder-

You ate it all up at a glance,

and even if you were to vomit up the world

Still, you would see no one

Look around-you¡¯ll be morning sick

58

BODHIDHARMA 4

The unfamiliar sound of the wind

that sawed at this one life

With the news cut off

in that apparent space

A pilgrim asks the way

and you draw him an empty circle

59

BODHIDHARMA 5

Fondle it daily and still

the beard won¡¯t grow

The sky, too pale,

is being dyed

Fingernails, toenails, caught in moonlight,

all withered and fallen out

60

BODHIDHARMA 6

At the notice from afar, of debt returned

at the very conclusion of keeping house

Though this single garment of life

weighs heavy on your shoulders

You block the ways of the world and run-

away-in the opposite direction

61

BODHIDHARMA 7

On that soft, first fired clay

on the firm, fertile soil

That bamboo stamped in ink

is a sala tree

On that clear, calm current

you ride upstream

62

BODHIDHARMA 8

Wash your hair-wash it-

the dandruff doesn¡¯t clear¡¯

Life is itchy-

you scratch it with your nails

And dark marks,

the scars you left behind

63

BODHIDHARMA 9

No matter how much you glare,

those sword-blade eyes will not open

That bright seed, crammed in back

and the world not even visible

Declaring the world is all but dead, you chant sutras

in a mourning house to ward off evil spirits

64

BODHIDHARMA 10

You made the earth quake

with no wind, nor cloud of dust