A Bowlful of Sky
A Bowlful of Sky
Baek Gyerim
If the blue autumn sky
were a cool aluminum pot,
then today’s lunch would surely be
a spicy bowl of sky jjambbong!
The wind goes, “Hoo, hoo,”
blowing with pursed lips,
cooling the reddened noodles
at this heavenly noodle shop.
The sky grabs the pot handle
with its white cloud hand,
and the impatient autumn tree
thrusts its chopsticks high into the air.
“Oh my, oh my! What’s that smell?”
Cloud fellows passing by
swallow their drool
and come rushing over,
slurping the noodles—
slurp, smack, chomp, chomp!
Clouds that love it hot,
clouds that love it chewy,
even the white clouds
posing proudly above the blue mountains—
One sip of that spicy autumn-sunshine broth,
and oh my!
Their noses start to run,
their eyes fill with tears!
“Whew—ha! It’s hot,
but I just can’t stop craving it!”
The yellow noodles
soak up the spicy broth,
and like red maple leaves
dancing in the wind,
they’re cooked to perfection—
so rich, so spicy, so delicious!
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