Yun Son-do

Yun Son-do Poems

Yun Son-do Biography

Yun Seondo (1587–1671) was a noted Korean poet of the Joseon Dynasty. He was born in Seoul, in what is now South Korea. He achieved early success as a government official, but his straightforward character made enemies at court and he was banished for imprudent criticism of those in power. Thirteen years later he returned to become tutor to the royal princes but was later banished again. He spent most of his 85 years in his rustic country home, contemplating the nature of life, teaching and writing poetry. Yun is considered the greatest master in the history of Korean literature. His most famous composition is The Fisherman's Calendar a cycle of forty seasonal sijo. In both Chinese and Korean classical poetry, the fisherman symbolized a wise man who lives simply and naturally. In art, the fisherman appeared almost invariably in one of the most common genres of Asian water colors: sets of four paintings, one for each season of the year. Yun Seondo wove both traditions into The Fisherman's Calendar. It is the longest and most ambitious sijo cycle attempted during the classical period.)

The Best Poem Of Yun Son-do

Song Of Five Friends

You ask how many friends I have? Water and stone, bamboo and pine.
The moon rising over the eastern hill is a joyful comrade.
Besides these five companions, what other pleasure should I ask?


I’m told clouds are nice, that is, their color; but often they grow dark.
I’m told winds are pleasing, that is, their sound, but they fade to silence;
So I say only water is faithful and neverending.


Why do flowers fade and die so soon after that glorious bloom?
Why does green grass curl to yellow after sending its spears so high?
Could it be that only stone stands strong against the elements?


Look at this, it isn’t a tree, and it isn‘t a grass either;
How can it stand so erect when its insides are empty?
Bamboo, I praise you in all seasons, standing green no matter what


In summer fragile flowers bloom; in autumn they lose their leaves.
But Mr. Pine, see how he disdains winter’s frost and snow—
See him thrust himself to heaven and down to earth’s eternal spring.


Though you’re small, you glide so high, blessing everyone with light;
What other flame can beam so brightly in the blackness of our night?
Moon, you watch but keep silent; isn’t that what a good friend does?

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