Beside Somjin River

Does your heart ache?
Look at the river at nightfall.
I call in a low voice
the nearby hills are sharp-eared
they come dropping down and float there
nearer now, hills dark on the river water.
Even Mount Chiri's high ridge called Nogodan
floats there like a drifting flower.
But look how the river flows on
all alone, a dark soja flood
in the deepening twilight.

Does your heart ache with sorrow?
Look at the river at nightfall.
I stand and watch.
Hills and river grow dark together.
Greater still, tiny fish
drift in swarms close to the banks
as the river flows on, bearing away
one wing of Hwaom Temple's Enlightenment Hall.

Look at the river at nightfall.
Look! For a moment, a thousand years
see how this world's river builds a temple
floating on the water and grows dark
in union with all the people once murdered
in these valleys and hills.

The river water goes flowing on
deeper with the bitter cold.
I stand here watching.
I cannot tear my eyes away
from the nightfall river at Somjin Ferry.
At last the river throws off the hills
throws off the millions of old blind men
the peach blossoms in the foothills
throws off at last the temple's bulk.

Things that live, things that have died
have all now become as one.
The river echoes the fierce laments
of women from the nearby hamlets.
Now the shores have grown into darkness
but towering aloft, night's proper home,
the ridge of Nogodan shines on, bright to the end
uttering sudden sounds of birdsong and such.
So this is how the river water darkens
if someone is watching!
If you have endless ages of pain to spare, watch!
Look at the river waters.