What We Have to be Ashamed of

It's not only the stench of muddy alleys.
It's not only petty slanging matches and fist-fights.
What we have to be ashamed of
is not only this deep poverty.
It's not only the darkness that almost never lifts.

When August comes we may be elated but
sitting on our creaky office chairs
or on a narrow bench in a soju bar
we clench fists about some boring baseball match
played abroad, nothing to do with us at all,
let some crazy missionary work us into a frenzy,
get excited about tall tales told by an economist
from some underdeveloped country,
but it's not only these kinds of things
that we have to be ashamed of.

It's not only this lily-livered kind of false merriment,
it's not only our two fists shrivelled up with fear.
What we have to be ashamed of
is not only the wild way we cheat and get cheated.
It's not only the darkness that hides heaven itself.

(1975)


Translated by Brother Anthony of Taize and Young-Moo Kim