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Poetry

Story—Late Summer or Early Fall

By Yoo Heekyung
Translated from Korean by Stine An
Struck by the tender intricacy of a spiderweb, Korean poet and playwright Yoo Heekyung contemplates presence and absence, memory and material, in this first selection in the 2024 Words Without Borders—Academy of American Poets National Translation Month series.
A subtle spiderweb pattern on a greenish-gray background
Sidewall - sample. Gift of Dorwin L. Starr. Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum. Public domain.
Listen to Yoo Heekyung read "Story—Late Summer or Early Fall" in the original Korean
 
 

Late summer or early fall—memories are unreliable Father was lying on his side In the swaying spiderweb, no spider could be seen The spider is hiding, why don’t you try touching the spiderweb But I am afraid The sound of wooden floorboards creaking Withering up for decades, Father rolled over to his other side And when he did, his scent, his warmth Just as I hadn’t touched the spiderweb, I didn’t dare touch my father’s back And so, neither the spider nor my father moved Why couldn’t I grasp that the space would be empty If you can’t see it, is it hiding The shadow that creeps and crawls toward the door to escape The light that casts and gathers the shadow under the gap—I’ll grab its hand so it won’t run away Memories of late summer or early fall are unreliable, and I am still afraid

 

© Yoo Heekyung. Translation © 2024 by Stine An. By arrangement with the author. All rights reserved.

English Korean (Original)

Late summer or early fall—memories are unreliable Father was lying on his side In the swaying spiderweb, no spider could be seen The spider is hiding, why don’t you try touching the spiderweb But I am afraid The sound of wooden floorboards creaking Withering up for decades, Father rolled over to his other side And when he did, his scent, his warmth Just as I hadn’t touched the spiderweb, I didn’t dare touch my father’s back And so, neither the spider nor my father moved Why couldn’t I grasp that the space would be empty If you can’t see it, is it hiding The shadow that creeps and crawls toward the door to escape The light that casts and gathers the shadow under the gap—I’ll grab its hand so it won’t run away Memories of late summer or early fall are unreliable, and I am still afraid

 

이야기─늦여름 아니면 초가을

늦여름 아니면 초가을 기억은 믿을 수 없다 아버지는 모로 누워 계셨다 한들거리는 거미줄 거미는 보이지 않았다 거미는, 숨어 있단다 거미줄을 건드려보렴 하지만 나는 무섭다 마루가 삐걱거리는 소리 수십 년째 말라가면서 아버지는 돌아누웠다 그럴 때의 냄새 그럴 때의 온기 거미줄을 건드리지 않은 것처럼 아버지의 등에도 손을 댈 수가 없었다 그러니 거미도 아버지도 움직이지 않았다 비어 있을 거라는 가정은 어째서 하지 않았던 것일까 보이지 않으면 숨어 있는 것일까 엉금엉금 기어 문 쪽으로 달아나는 그림자 문 아래 틈으로 밀어 넣었다가 거두는 빛의 손 잡아야지 도망칠 수 없도록 늦여름 아니면 초가을의 기억은 믿을 수가 없어 나는 아직도 무섭고

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