Su Ben Poet Free verse

Arirang Hill

the hill many people passed over
the hill, like a one, not too high or rough 
extended from the backyard of a hometown, 
the hill that is smoother and easier than a half moon

nevertheless, the people who crossed over the hill
may have carried their own problems that is numberless
as the sands on the seashore, sighs deeper and heavier than 
the footmarks left behind 

some went with early flowers came with the chilly wind
some may have crossed over, drenched in a torrential rain  
some may crunched through the killing frost covered in fallen leaves   
some may struggled through a blinding snow
 
since life is such, as the sun rises in the morning becomes a moon 
at night; a piece of drifting cloud becomes stars as night deepens; 
a bride carried by a palanquin passed following the gloom on the pony; 
a woman led her child passed, carrying a jar filled with tomorrow on her head; following a funeral streamer, a pallbearers’ dirge crossed over the hill left gloomy echo behind.

Arirang* is the hill so many souls passed 
carrying uniquely woven their very own stories 

Arirang hill simply standing there without a word 
though she witnessed everything; 
like a half moon the hill though let all kinds of 
worldly affairs crossed over stood perfectly mute;
it might be thought the earth keeps revolving 
and people keep breathing, the hill doesn’t want to say a word  


*Arirang: imagery hill

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