{"id":4570,"date":"2014-01-19T02:47:52","date_gmt":"2014-01-19T02:47:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sporkpress.com\/?p=4570"},"modified":"2014-01-19T02:47:52","modified_gmt":"2014-01-19T02:47:52","slug":"4-poems-hailji","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/2014\/01\/19\/4-poems-hailji\/","title":{"rendered":"4 Poems || Hailji"},"content":{"rendered":"

A Thought on the Bag
\n<\/strong>
\n 
\nThe lame postman sleeps
\nIn his postal bag,
\nThe blind doctor sleeps
\nIn his case,
\nAnd the deaf-mute fiddler sleeps
\nUnder the cover of his violin.
\n 
\nEveryone has a bag
\nTo sleep inside,
\nBecause there is nobody who is really right-handed.
\n 
\nIt\u2019s true,
\nIn certain monarchies
\nLike Japan,
\nThey still sleep
\nIn their shoes
\nOr in their pockets.
\nBut, since the revolution,
\nIn our village,
\nIt\u2019s prohibited.
\nThen, everyone prepares his bag.
\n 
\nBut me,
\nI don\u2019t have a bag,
\nBecause I am not lame blind nor deaf-mute.
\nSo, I decided to sleep
\nIn a drawer with my swallows
\nAs you decided to sleep
\nIn a pot with your frogs
\nAnd your daughter decided to sleep
\nIn a matchbox.
\n 
\n 
\n__________________
\nThe Carnal Pleasures of the Ditches<\/strong>
\n 
\nThe ditches in my drawer have no fatherland
\nAs all of the daughters of cowherds
\nDo not wear pants.
\nThen, all of my ditches can enjoy their carnal pleasures.
\nThey violate the night,
\nThe night gives birth to fishes,
\nThe fishes violate a piano,
\nThe piano conceives an airplane.
\n 
\nThe carnal pleasures of my ditches are ticklish
\nLike the song of the earthworms,
\nThe earthworms on heat in May.
\nThen, all of my ditches twist their ashamed parts,
\nExploding with laughter,
\nAn innocent laughter,
\nA ticklish laughter.
\n 
\nThe carnal pleasures of my ditches are floating
\nLike a hippodrome,
\nThe hippodrome which flows in the sky.
\nThen, during the night, all of my ditches wander
\nLike merry vagrants
\nAbout the forest, the city, the port,
\nEven as far as the battlefield in the North.
\n 
\nThe carnal pleasures of my ditches are wet
\nLike a certain white good-bye,
\nA good-bye which let thousands and thousands of birds
\nTo fly into the red sky.
\nSo, my dear ditches wet the night, the fishes, the piano, the airplanes,
\nAnd the feet of Julia,
\nEven my pillow.
\n 
\nThe ditches in my drawer can enjoy their carnal pleasures.
\nThen, each night,
\nThey are violated
\nBy the forest, by the fishes, by the piano, by the airplanes
\nLike I was violated
\nBy my snakes.
\n 
\n 
\n____________________
\nThe Swallows of My Grandmother<\/strong>
\n 
\nThe swallows of my grandmother are not similar
\nWith my swallows
\nAnd with the swallows of my snakes.
\nThey nest in the fireplace,
\nIn the wall clock,
\nAnd in the piano,
\nEven in an old violin.
\nSo, they are badly raised,
\nLike the earthworms in May
\nLike the drunk Russian shells.
\n 
\nEach time that the wall clock sounds,
\nAll the swallows fly
\nFrom the fireplace,
\nFrom the wall clock,
\nFrom the piano,
\nEven from the old violin,
\nChirping like the coppice which burns,
\nLike jealous ducks.
\n 
\nTo live with so many swallows badly raised is not so good,
\nLike marrying a left-handed woman is not so good.
\nBut, each one has his hippodrome
\nAs each one holds his white cane in the hand.
\n 
\nSo, one day,
\nI asked my grandmother,
\nWhy you don\u2019t open the drawers of your cupboard
\nSo that your swallows nest inside.
\nBut she only smiled
\nWithout answering
\nOn an old photograph, yellowed.
\n 
\n 
\n___________________
\nOn the Hill in my Drawer<\/strong>
\n 
\n    To Kerry Shawn Keys<\/em>
\n 
\nOn the hill, in my drawer,
\nI put all that I possess to flight:
\nMy collection of butterflies,
\nMy accordion,
\nMy colored pencils,
\nAnd my white cane too.
\nBecause it is blowing
\nOn the hill of my drawer.
\n 
\nIt\u2019s true,
\nLast year,
\nI could put more things to flight
\nOn the windy hill:
\nMy airplanes,
\nMy piano,
\nMy fish,
\nAnd my vermilion armchair too.
\n 
\nBut, this year,
\nI cannot do so many things,
\nBecause, this year,
\nI could not possess so much
\nIn my small drawer.
\nSo, I am sorry for the wind
\nNot to put
\nEnough things to flight.
\n 
\nOn the hill, in my drawer,
\nI think over what my father let fly away
\nOn his windy hill.
\nPerhaps,
\nAt that time,
\nThey put to flight more than today.
\nBecause, at that time,
\nThey harvested more than today.
\n 
\nThis year also,
\nAfter having left everything to fly away,
\nI return late
\nTaking away my own corpse on my shoulders.
\nWhen I arrived at the village,
\nThe night fell until my knees,
\nAnd the black dogs barked
\nToward me or to my corpse.
\n 
\n 
\n____________________
\nHailji<\/strong> has written over 10 novels in Korean and has published books of poetry in both English and in French. In 1990 his novel On The Road To The Racetrack<\/em> was adapted to the screen to much critical acclaim. His prose has been translated into many languages. One of his most recent titles, Uzupis Republik<\/em> was a bestseller in Lithuanian in 2013. Many years ago he was made the Korean ambassador to the Uzupis Republik, a position he holds until death. Hailji’s novel Statement<\/em> will be available in the U.S in 2014.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A Thought on the Bag   The lame postman sleeps In his postal bag, The blind doctor sleeps In his case, And the deaf-mute fiddler sleeps Under the cover of his violin.   Everyone has a bag To sleep inside, Because there is nobody who is really right-handed.   It\u2019s true, In certain monarchies Like […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4570","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","category-things"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4570","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4570"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4570\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4570"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4570"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thisissporkpress.com\/archive\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4570"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}