A road curves to the left; the wall beside it is deeply scored with numerous gashes.
A couple of places, gashed deeply many times, are really dark.
They’re signs of insignificant efforts, striking weakly then returning with hearts vexed.
I lived behind that wall.
I lived believing it would be brief and I lived believing it would last long.
When I finally realized that I can do nothing about things happening behind my back, pinched then hardening, then pinched again before hardening enough,
My mind’s bone cracked and even the ceiling was tattered but suddenly my heart went racing as at first and abruptly the nape of my neck gave off a summer smell.
Yi Byeong-Ryul (20th century) South Korea
Translated by Brother Anthony of Taizé
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