Мария Визи - A moon gate in my wall: собрание стихотворений

The sun comes up over the Rock of Dawn —
how beautiful is the Ilgok First Bend!
The mist has flown from the dewy meadows,
and the mountains have appeared on the horizon.
Having put a jug of wine in front of myself,
I sit under the pines and await my friends.

Everything has begun to bloom
on the hill of Awakening. —
How beautiful is the Igok bend!
The petals of spring flow'ers float down from the knoll
on the waves that retreat into the sea…
People will know' about this now — from me.

The woods are screened by the Green Curtain. —
How beautiful is the Samgok bend!
Birds sing fantastic songs!
A duet down below, a trio — from above,
And the wind, with a pine-tree brush,
paints the picture of summer in the blue sky.

The sun sets beyond the Pinetree Fan. —
How beautiful is the Sagok bend!
The mirror smoothness of the water
Reflects the mountain tops and stately woods,
And a hundred hues of the sunset… I look
And a feeling of wonder fills me to the brim.

The Forest Screen breathes of pine. —
How beautiful is the Ogok bend!
A little house stands here, clean and orderly,
As if it had bathed in spring water.
I know: alone in it, one can
sing the enchantment of the moonlight nigh.

The raindrops are falling, falling on the smooth lake surface,
the willows, the weeping willows are wrapped in silent mist.
Where shall I look for you, my young fisherman?..
A lonely skiff presses its stern to the shore.
Dusk has settled upon the lusterless water.
A white gull darts aimlessly back and forth…

Wait, i am still holding your hands.
Don't push mo away, don't leave!
I see the night descending, the night of parting,
upon the flowers and trees of the garden.
But the (stub) of the candle will flicker on till morning,
and all will be clear by sunrise!

Exiled by enemies to bleak Kangho,
In loneliness, five faithful friends I found:
Water, Bamboo, a Cliff, a Pine, the Moon
that rises over yonder Eastern Mcund.
No calumny can sway them toward betrayal:
In lofty friendship they will never fail.

I love the blue sky,
but in the sky dark clouds are born.
I love the impetuous wind,
but the wind is changeable…

Only you, Water, always
carry away my sorrows.

How beautiful were the flowers!
But now they have lost their petals.
The lush, bright-colored grasses
Have also dried and withered.

Only you, in your modest grey garment,
Granite cliff, have remained the same!

The warm days are over,
the trees have lost their leaves,
but angry winter storms
fail to scare you, Pine —
deep into the earth
your stubborn roots are grown.

Shining upon ten thousand things
you pass over the world. Moon,
and your bright gaze penetrates
into the depths of a darkened heart.
Thus silently into my eyes
gazes my closest friend.

In the mountains I built my chihbi
Of clay and of willow branches,
And the valley people are mocking
And laughing at my idea.
They do not know I have found
Freedom from care in the chihbi.

Alone on a moonlight night
I gaze at a distant mountain.
The mountain is more perfect than my love
from whom I have parted:
The mountain is silent,
and no one will make us quarrel.

The creator may think
that I've no desire to work
for the good of myself and of others…
But I'm doing something important:
having left the malicious, the knaves,
I'm standing guard over nature.

Close the door tighter,
and blow out the candle…
I'm very tired, my friend,
I'm going to fall fast asleep.
But should a welcome guest
arrive, — awaken me.

Leaves, falling, wilt and dry;
its petals drops the flower,
and sap-filled grasses die
on scheduled hour.
Alone, the image of my land stays bright
through autumn days as on a summer night.

Close your book and open the window wide,
look: the ships are sailing away to sea.
The white gulls are following after them.
White seagulls! If we could also sail
far away to some peaceful harbor,
where there is no vain glory,
where friends alone await me.

Snow has blanketed our village.
It has blocked every road and trail.
My gate is snowbound. No friend
will knock on it. By the window
I'll spend this night with my only
friend — the moon.

I've left all thought of riches,
I've left all thought of glory.
I've left all thought of happiness, —
I've left all thought of myself…
So after I die
would anyone think of me?!

I am the lord of the streams and the green hills
scattered over the width of the Earth,
of pure and (untouched) nature.
No one can compete with me,
because, unlike the rich,
I keep my possessions in my soul.

The hills are green once again,
and snowdrifts on all the roads
have been thawed by the east wind,
yet dark mounds still remain
in the corners of my yard…

Isn't it time for them
also to melt away?!

I arose at dawn and went to feed the cattle.
Three or four stars were burning above the plain.
in the blue-white sky, the edges
of the clouds were turning to gold.
And I thought: this brief moment holds

all of a peasant's joy, all of a peasant's peace!

At the edge of the road
the feet of many travelers
have trampled into the mud
a piece of jade.
A long, long time life trampled it there…
But the jade
never turned into mud!

You can turn your nose up to look
haughtily at the sky;
you can stamp your foot in anger
at the indestructible Earth.

But the world is enormous and beautiful —
keep your respect for it!

My time flows like water.
But before all my hair turns white,
before I find eternal peace,
before my life is over,
one thing I want: to serve
my country and my neighbors.