Ko Un

(1933 / North Jeolla Province / South Korea)

Stories


There are stories.
There are people telling stories
and people listening to them.

The room is full
of the breath of the stories.

That is enough.

Eight months of winter at minus 40.
A weaned baby froze to death;
the grieving did not last long.

Soon there are stories.
Between prayers and more prayers
between one meal and the next
there are stories.
This kind of state is a perfect state.

Submitted: Wednesday, August 06, 2014

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Comments about this poem (Stories by Ko Un )

  • Silver Star - 3,094 Points Valerie Dohren (8/6/2014 6:41:00 AM)

    Homes in on this one as Imhave one with the same title, which you may like to read. Yes, there are always stories to tell. A good write. (Report) Reply

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