by Choe Young-mi

As if tracing a perfect, pre-destined route,
the bird soars

through the air,
turning that clichéd blue sky blindingly blue —

an afternoon sky
under which I am going postmodernly mad

A gaggle of customers stuck outside the restaurant
throngs round the entrance
not able to queue

The literal translation of this poem was made by Kyoo Lee

The final translated version of the poem is by Sarah Maguire


  1. February 6th, 2014 at 4:44 am

    bindi says:


  2. March 31st, 2011 at 5:59 pm

    Tom Fleet says:

    Survivors, Hungering

    Gliding perfectly straight, now there's a bird  knows where it's going

    The sky shimmering blue, rendered by it in passing

    The afternoon beneath, turning delirious and postmodernly so

    People too late for tables stood lineless at the door