Cave Boys

A Child who Lost a Parrot
Cave Boys
Snowman
A Butterfly’s Torn Shoulders
Kindness
Restavek
Prison of Words
Snowflakes Eager to Become Snowmen
Saint-Nazaire in my Dreams
Ant Hell
Refugee Girls ― Survey
Dapdong Church Is Disappearing.
Transfer
Ghost Spider
A Nightmare and an Illusion
Shaking
Fog
Chimney Sweeper and Crow.
Fish Star (Turned into Black Rain)
Gaps

Poet’s Notes
Poet’s Essay
Commentary
What They Say About Lee Sul-ya

Darkness at midday,
acrid smoke rolling up to the edge of the sky,
darkness with darkness fell before history,
young boys forced onto the black trains and sent off somewhere,
not knowing where they are, whether they close their eyes or open their eyes,
deep in the mountain, a cave with red water flowing down.
- 「Cave Boyss」 중에서

Half rainy,
half sunny,
I was passing through the middle of a day like that.
A refugee group volunteer held out a sticker:

“What would you need most if faced with a war or disaster like these children?”

I hesitated and put a sticker on the box in the survey that said ‘Food and Water.’
The volunteer told me I was wrong.
He opened a worn-out file folder.

In Africa or some yet more distant country
I could saw a tent where refugee children were gathered.
He told me those young children were living in the worst environment.
Some children even give birth to children,

In places where children give birth,
more desperately needed than passports or food was tents.

Tents where nothing can be seen,
There is something
- 「Refugee Girls-Survey」 중에서

This world is like a huge box, a box you build and break apartevery day. People live in boxes they make for themselves. The shape of each box is different, depending on each person’s inner valley. My box changes every day. Yesterday’s was different and tomorrow’s will be different. Today, I am locked in a six-sided box. If I push on the walls one by one, fish-stars, tundra carnivores, macaw parrots, anthills, and tents pop out. In the corner of the wall, there is a bucket of anonymous tears that flow down like from a leaking faucet.
- From Poet’s Note