Up in sky where seasons pass
Autumn mellows in the air.
In this quietude
I could almost count those autumnal stars.
Yet I may not count them off lit one by one,
Because the dawn will soon break,
Because tomorrow night will be here,
Because my youth is not yet done.
One by Memory
Another by Love
Another by Loneliness
Another by Yearning
Another by Poetry
Another by Mother, O Mother.
Mother, let me call each star by name, lovely name,
Names of school children with shom I sharfd a desk,
Names of foreign girls Pae, Kyong, Ok,
Names of girls who have become mothers,
Names of my poverty-stricken neighbors,
Names of birds and beasts like dove, pup, rabbit,
donkey, deer,
Names of poets like Francis Jammes, Rainer Maria Rilke.
They are too far off
As the stars in the sky.
Mother, you are also far off
In the north.
Driven by yearning for what I know not
I write my name
On the starlit hillside
And cover it with earth,
Insects are crying all night
As if pitying my humble name.
When winter is over and spring comes
Grass will green the hillside
Where my name is buried
As green turf breaks out on the graves.
