Translated by Chae-Pyong Song and Anne Rashid
Photography by L. J. Sladek
Winter. Snow. Tree. Forest by Ki Hyung-do (1960-1989)
piles up here and there,
without being able to get all the way out of the forest.
“Is it you?
Thump. He falls down,
hit by a sharp blade.
I return home,
dragging the tree.
As I trim off the twigs,
I listen to the silence of the tree:
“I am here.
Death is unmasked life.
Our lives, our winters are like that, too.”