This section collects English translations of Kim Sowol’s poem
As is true of poetry in translation, some of these translations are unconventional, iconoclastic, or introduce new meanings into the text. The expansive selection of these translations is intended to be inclusive and does not directly address the “correctness” of these translations, but rather to show as both David R. McCann and An Sonjae have written, the evolving cultural and historical contexts in which poems are translated. If you know of other translations of the poem, please contact the site’s maintainer.
When seeing me sickens you
and you walk out
I’ll send you off without a word, no fuss.
Yongbyon’s mount Yaksan’s
azaleas
by the armful I’ll scatter in your path.
With parting steps
on those strewn flowers
treading lightly, go on, leave.
When seeing me sickens you
and you walk out
why, I’d rather die than weep one tear.
When you go away at last,
sickened with the sight of me,
know that I shall let you go,
saying nothing, make no fuss;
but climbing high on Yongpyon’s hills,
there I’ll pick azalea flowers,
armfuls of purple, just to spread
along the pathways as you go.
Then go, with muffled parting steps
trampling down those flowers you find
strewn before your departing feet;
and when you go away at last,
sickened with the sight of me,
know that for the life of me
I’ll not shed tears then, no, not one.
I know you’ll leave me one fine day.
You’re sick of me, is what you’ll say;
dumb and numb, I’ll send you on your way.
Ahead of you I’ll scatter showers
great armfuls of azalea flowers
from Yongbyon mountains’ springtime bowers.
And as you go, each step you make
lightly on the flowers that break
will echo as the leave you take.
I know you’ll leave me one fine day.
You’re sick of me, is what you’ll say;
but I’ll not weep then, come what may.
The day will come when you loathe me
and leave me;
Goodbye, that’s all, it’s over.
I’ll have them strew your road with
azaleas
from Yaksan in Yongbyon
Then be off with you
marching briskly
over those withered petals.
The day will come when you loathe me
and leave me;
you think I’ll cry? Not on your life. I won’t!
When you say goodbye
turn aside and walk away
I’ll say farewell
and not ask you why.
I’ll gather flowers for love of you
azaleas from some springtime hill
and scatter them beneath your feet
as you walk away.
Then go
crushing with your parting steps
my humble offerings of flowers.
When you say goodbye
turn aside and walk away
I tell you now that on that day
I’ll not shed a tear.
One day you’ll walk out on me, I know,
saying you need a change of air;
you hope I understand, you do so hate a fuss.
I suppose you’d love to see me dancing
somewhere out ahead of you,
scattering azaleas in your path, perhaps?
I can just see you there, prancing along
squashing those poor flowers underfoot
as you fade away into the sunset.
Oh yes, you’ll walk out one day, I know,
saying you need a change of air;
you think I’ll mind? I won’t, you know.