Han Yong-un

푸른 산 맑은 물에 고기 낚는 저 늙은이 갈삿갓 숙여 쓰고 무슨 꿈을 꾸었던가. 우습다 새소리에 놀라 낚싯대를 드는고녀.…

사나이 되얏으니 무슨 일을 (하)야 볼까 밭을 팔아 책을 살까 책을 덮고 칼을 갈까…

百里[백리]를 갈 양이면 九十里[구십리]가 半[반]이라네 始作[시작]이 半[반]이라는 우리들은 그르도다…

잃은 소 없건만은 찾을손 우습도다 만일 잃을씨 분명타 하면 찾은들 지닐소냐…

가을밤 기다기에 감긴 회포 풀쟀더니 첫 구비도 못 찾어서 새벽빛이 새로워라…

가벼운 갈바람에 나부끼는 코스모스 꽃잎이 날개이냐 날개가 꽃잎이냐…

Bereavement is the source of beauty. The beauty of bereavement cannot be found either in the priceless gold of the morning, or in the threadless black velvet of night.…

If the bondage of love be a dream, Coming out to the world, freed, is also a dream. If laughter and weeping be dream, The bright light of the reason is also a dream.…

Others would think of their loves. My love I would forget. One thinks and considers, to forget. One thinks and looks, when it is scarcely forgotten.…

The little boat of vasty meditation is rocking without rest on the moon-coloured waves of the water, is crossing, re-crossing the far away star country, where it arrives in the kin…

When you go walking through the clear dawn in the shade of trees, my dream will become the few little stars that are staying on over your head. When during summer days you are slee…

If you were a love, you would love me, but every night outside the window you make the sound of footsteps alone; without once entering you go back. Is that love? But never once hav…

No moon is in the heaven, No wind over the earth. No voice comes from mankind, No heart is left in me.…

Wishing to forget my sad thoughts, I played the harp under the moon. Before the dancing melody died, The wet tears had covered my face.…