Echoing Song: Contemporary Korean Women PoetsPeter H. Lee White Pine Press, 2005 - 304 ˹éÒ Echoing Song presents the work of 20 contemporary Korean women poets active from the 1970s to the present. Each poet is represented with 10 to 15 poems reflecting the range of their poetic development. This anthology demonstrates the originality and variety of modern Korean women's poetry. The poets include Yi Hyangji, No Hyangnim, Ch'on Yanghui, Kang Ungyo, Mun Chonghui, Yi Kyongnim, Ko Chonghui, Ch'oe Sungja, Kim Sunghui, Kim Chongnam, Yi Chinmyong, Kim Hyesun, No Hyegyong, Hwang Insuk, Chong Hwajin, Yi Yonju, Yi Sanghui, Pak Sowon, Ho Sugyong and Na Huidok. Peter Lee is a professor of Korean studies at ULCA and has translated over 20 books. |
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˹éÒ 57
... sound of the waterfall climbs the gorge . Like thunder , like a storm , like a standing ovation - boulders secretly tremble . The sky is in front of me , but I sense that this is the infinite void . Coming here and gazing out , how good ...
... sound of the waterfall climbs the gorge . Like thunder , like a storm , like a standing ovation - boulders secretly tremble . The sky is in front of me , but I sense that this is the infinite void . Coming here and gazing out , how good ...
˹éÒ 236
... Sound trembles . The door shakes . Shutters open . Inside the half - open door , you can see the child . The child's ... sounds streaming from the yard . The child is sleeping , drunk on wine . In the kitchen , Grandmother gathers hot ...
... Sound trembles . The door shakes . Shutters open . Inside the half - open door , you can see the child . The child's ... sounds streaming from the yard . The child is sleeping , drunk on wine . In the kitchen , Grandmother gathers hot ...
˹éÒ 293
... sound of sweeping inside my brain , the sound of my heart being cut out . Every dawn he cried by my pillow , but I never heard him . Though stars in the sky still glistened , the sweeping sounds should have awakened me , but as though ...
... sound of sweeping inside my brain , the sound of my heart being cut out . Every dawn he cried by my pillow , but I never heard him . Though stars in the sky still glistened , the sweeping sounds should have awakened me , but as though ...
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