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
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
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.