[Afternoon Poem] Talpi / Park Pan-sik

The old man lies down while the family either cries, goes mad, or runs around thumping loudly.

The old man's skeleton is somewhat hunched; the suffering (고, 苦) spoken of in Buddhism has left him.

My room faces the same direction as the old man behind the folding screen.

But that does not mean we are looking at the same thing.

The old man is looking at the past.

I am looking at something that is neither the past nor the future.

Who will shed their skin first? We never made a bet on that.

Even though I am over twenty-nine, my hair and nails keep growing out in jagged little bits.

The old man has abandoned his frail body.

His forty-year-old son, who became an imbecile after a traffic accident damaged his brain and who has just become an orphan,

is thumping and flying around chasing butterflies between the flowerpots on the rooftop.

Everyone is busy in their own way.

■ It is a strange thing, but around this time of year, this poem often comes to mind. Because of the ‘butterfly.’ Truly, when watching a butterfly fluttering unpredictably, the last three lines of this poem suddenly come to mind. Today, I saw a butterfly during the day. Then, without much thought, I looked up this poem again. But after that, I was once again perplexed. I simply cannot grasp it. It seems I first read this poem more than ten years ago, yet its lines still feel as if they are just within reach, only to vanish beyond the meadow like a butterfly. That does not mean the poem is difficult. In fact, it is quite clear. Yet every time I read it, I become bewildered. Why? I do not know. Only that even if one “abandons the frail body,” “hair and nails” will still “grow out jaggedly” every day, and though not an imbecile, I too am “thumping and chasing butterflies,” and someday I will become an orphan. Life is just like that. Can we learn to love this sorrow? ? Poet Chaesangwoo

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