nana

“A abolição dum mito, ou a sua ultrapassagem, resulta geralmente na criação dum outro e assim assistimos a um processo de substituições em cujos resíduos se enforma a qualidade mágica do acto criador: o fascínio. O mito seria então um processo (mágico) pelo qual algo de real se abstratiza por uma transcensão voluntária e específica do seu uso, culminando numa universalização do seu significado.”
― Ana Hatherly, A reinvenção da leitura

“Unable to forget, you will miss her.
Let it be, that will be a life all its own.
There will come a day when you forget.
Unable to forget, you will miss her.
So be it, just let the years pass on by.
You will one day forget some if not all.
Yet, for all that, is it not also true,
"With blood and bones yearning alike,
how can the thought ever leave you?”
― Kim So-Wol

“and the reason I am living is
only because I am looking for what I have lost.

-The Road”
― Yun Dong-ju, Sky, Wind, and Stars

“The Sky is full to the brim with autumn
as the season makes its way to across it.
It is as if I had no worries at all.
so I could count all the stars nestled in autumn.
Yet i cannot quite finish counting all those stars
that are settling in my heart one by one,
because mornings have a way of coming swiftly,
because tomorrow's night is still to come,
and because the fire of my heart hasn't burn out yet.
I see memories in one star
and love in another
and loneliness
my longings
and poetry in each
and Mother in another, Mother.
Mother, I am trying to call out a beautiful word for each star.
Names of the kids I shared desk with in a grade school, such foreign
girls names as Pae, Kyeong, Ok, and the girls who have become
mothers already, my poor neighbors, the doves, puppies, rabbits,
mules, roe deer, Francies Jammes and Rheiner
Maria Rilke - I call
such names of poets.
They are all so far away from me.
Just as the stars are ever distant.
And mother,
you are in North Gando which is so far away.
Longing for something I couldn't name,
I wrote my own name on this hill
which is bright with all the starlight landing,
but then I covered it up again with dirt.
True, some insects chirp through the night
because they lament their shameful names.
Yet when spring comes around to my star after winter,
even on this hill where my name is buried,
shrubs will grow thick as if boasting
like the green grass that sprouts on a grave.”
― Yun Dong-ju, Sky, Wind, and Stars