Tomatoes and Sunflowers

Finally, marked by the bright light

Tomatoes: tomatoes and sunflowers.

Here now the September-didactic shreaks: “Birches”

And the acrid juice explodes onto the grass

While holding over the last breath,

God’s things, swinging and drying up

not breaking off,

holding-holding off an early death

murmuring, “ahh yes, I live.” This insignificant moment,

the sweetest sweet between autumn and summer

You know—it’s here where it begins,

the dying away…

Everything stands motionless, alone.

While tension rises to а standstill

The circulation of tiny pieces–scarlet, orange,
emerald, rust–(before falling)– and then death

Breathing,

calmly clinging to life

Everything is full- the overgrowth, the shadows, the
lines–tastes and sounds.

But not another smell–a breath

Grass; black, brown, blue

A breeze to heaven–speeding up, shuddering

But as soon as this moments finishes

And as soon as the distance disturbs,–

Everything falls. Do you know what to remember?

Spiderwebs–with their fearful lace

A tomato- with a deathly split

Half a minute in the anticipation of smoke,

the horror of the moment gone–

Everything was given to me, and yet nothing was
promised.

By Polina Barskova
translated, from the Russian, by Nora Murray

Mia You is a Ph.D student in English literature at the University of California, Berkeley. Chung Ho-seung (1950-) is recognized as one of South Korea’s most popular contemporary authors. He has won almost all of Korea’s most prestigious poetry awards, including the Sowol Literary Prize and the Dong Suh Literary Prize.