{"id":14994,"date":"2026-11-10T00:09:39","date_gmt":"2026-11-10T00:09:39","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/?p=14994"},"modified":"2026-11-10T00:09:39","modified_gmt":"2026-11-10T00:09:39","slug":"57th-modern-korean-literature-translation-awards-poetry-commendation-award-there-was-a-fire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sotnews.agency\/?p=14994","title":{"rendered":"[57TH MODERN KOREAN LITERATURE TRANSLATION AWARDS] Poetry Commendation Award: There Was a Fire"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\"Cover<\/picture>
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Cover of An Hee-yeon’s poetry collection including “There Was a Fire”<\/p>\n<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Written by An Hee-yeon<\/p>\n

Translated by Park Se-yeon<\/p>\n

There Was a Fire<\/strong><\/p>\n

He figured the day had turned chill,
and also felt a bit alone.<\/p>\n

Today, I’ll light a fire, he thought.
He laid dry sticks together and lit them.<\/p>\n

Fire, rise, fire\u2014
he hummed a song,<\/p>\n

he dreamed of a fire
that would not hurt,<\/p>\n

not a fire that devours but the one that allows,
not a fire that scorches but the one that allows.<\/p>\n

Even here, he said, there was a home,
and people arrived one by one.
Once the cold hands came out from their pockets,
that’s how stories began\u2014<\/p>\n

palm lines crisscrossing, without our noticing.<\/p>\n

The sun and the moon tenderly exchanged goodbye,
beyond the fence, the weeds were growing,
a stray dog retrieved its soul, returning home,<\/p>\n

while not-yet-born me\u2014
the self that died inside, I lulled and fell asleep.<\/p>\n

The fire\u2014extinguished long ago\u2014
but certain things did not cease.
The fire hadn’t hushed, not even a little.<\/p>\n

Fuss<\/strong><\/p>\n

Covered head to toe in flour, I stepped into the square
to bring my sorrow into view.<\/p>\n

Yesterday, I hid my umbrella in my bag and took the rain on,
to proclaim: I do not shatter. I do not disintegrate in the rain.
But my bloated, engorged feet spill out from my boots,
and no one ever asks if I am okay.<\/p>\n

To let my secret out, I left my notebook on the bus,
to declare my doorbell was never broken,
I hammered nails into the wall even past midnight.<\/p>\n

The seesaw stays tilted.
Alone doesn’t work, people say.<\/p>\n

I’m the one effaced.
Someone planted the wrong seed, no doubt.
My plan to be beautiful has fallen apart.
Still, I grow\u2014though warped and out of shape.<\/p>\n

With every cough, white powder bursts and flutters.
See\u2014this is the color and texture of my soul.
You can touch it. Right here.<\/p>\n

Only the long silence feels kind.
Should I quit it all? I whisper\u2014
one drenched dog snaps into a violent spin before my eyes,
a blast of droplets erupting, flying in all directions.<\/p>\n

That very dog\u2014as if to say it is alive\u2014
wades into the muddy pool on its own feet, with joy.<\/p>\n

What I Learned on the Summer Hill<\/strong><\/p>\n

I walked to completely lose myself.
Wrote hill and believed it to be one.<\/p>\n

Then an unexpected hill would unfold.
That day, too, I was walking a hill.<\/p>\n

A slope, relatively gentle.
Sunlight, enough.
A joy in being fully blessed.<\/p>\n

After a while, a hollow appeared.
I lifted my head to see there were puddles in every direction.<\/p>\n

I watched the hill’s feeling.
A life, so many puddles.
A summer where the feet sink, sink.
What made you like this?<\/p>\n

The hill, close to tears,
said the white rabbit hasn’t been seen in a while.<\/p>\n

After that came the descent.
Night came fast, too fast to bear.
The hill knew it still had
many rabbits inside\u2014but knew, too,<\/p>\n

that after stillness always comes storm,
that summer exists only to burn everything.<\/p>\n

Was it the rabbit we lost?
While chasing, as if being chased,<\/p>\n

among countless hills,
I wondered why it had to be this one.<\/p>\n

Even just the fact of going can fold a stretch of time in half.
Unfold it, and the landscape is no longer the same.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n\n

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\n Happy <\/div>\n
\n 0<\/span>\n \n 0<\/span> %<\/span>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n
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\n Sad <\/div>\n
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\n \n \"Excited\"\n <\/a>\n
\n Excited <\/div>\n
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\n \n \"Angry\"\n <\/a>\n
Angry<\/div>\n
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\n \n \"Surprise\"\n <\/a>\n
Surprise<\/div>\n
\n 0<\/span>\n 0<\/span> %<\/span>\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n <\/div>\n <\/div>\n\n ","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Cover of An Hee-yeon’s poetry collection including “There Was a Fire” Written by An Hee-yeon Translated by Park Se-yeon There Was a Fire He figured the day had turned chill,and also felt a bit alone. Today, I’ll light a fire, he thought.He laid dry sticks together and lit them. Fire, rise, fire\u2014he hummed a song,…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":14995,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_2277560469115098_106292521332774":"","twitter_aToxNzczMzI3Njk4OTg4ODUxMjAxOw==_1773327698988851200":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_templately_pack_id":"","_templately_imported_at":"","_templately_source":"","_templately_import_session_id":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[16,14],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14994","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-korea","category-trending-news"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t