Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Kim Yideum

WET BOOK

I walk along the street that is filling up with water. The evening outruns me like a truck covered in a dark blue tarp. The dark and narrow alley -- is this the right way? My room on low ground easily sinks under lukewarm water, even when it is not full tide. I begin anew my search for home.

Remember to take the coat off by the door. I draw a line on my chest to measure the water level today. Humans are bound to leak. When everyone blinked at once, my bed floated away on their tears. The books that I kept in the bathtub didn’t get wet.

I sit on the chair floating in water, and I sit at the desk floating in water, and I write alphabets the way I drink water from rain boots. The tied up bundle of letters is a face filled with tears. Your cat won’t calm down. She trembles on the bosom of the wet book.

NAT BOEK

Ik loop over straat en het waterpeil stijgt. De avond haalt me in als een vrachtwagen met een donkerblauw zeil erover. Is dit waar ik moet zijn, deze duistere krappe steeg? Ook bij laagtij overstroomt mijn kamer in het laagland met lauwwarm water, waardoor ik weer de straat op moet, op zoek naar een nieuw onderkomen.

Niet vergeten bij de deur je jas uit te trekken. Ik trek een streep over mijn borst om het waterpeil van vandaag te bepalen. Mensen zijn lek. Toen iedereen op hetzelfde moment met zijn ogen knipperde, dreef mijn bed weg op een rivier van tranen. De boeken die ik in de badkuip bewaarde bleven droog.

Ik zit op een drijvende stoel achter een drijvend bureau en schrijf alsof ik water uit mijn laars drink. De stapel met touw omwonden brieven is een betraand gelaat. Je kat kalmeert niet, drijvend op de borsten van het natte boek.

젖은 책

물이 차오르는 거리를 걷는다 저녁은 암청색 방수포를 씌운 트럭처럼 나를 앞지른다 어두컴컴하고 좁은 골목 이 길이 맞나 저지대의 내 방은 만조가 아니어도 미온의 물에 잠겨 버리고 새로이 나는 집을 찾아 헤매곤 한다

외투는 문턱에서 벗을 것 가슴에 금을 그으며 오늘의 수위를 확인한다 사람은 누수한다 동시에 모두가 눈을 깜빡였다면 내 침대는 눈물에 떠내려가지 욕조 안에 넣어둔 책들은 젖지 않았다

물에 뜬 책상 앞에서 물에 뜬 의자에 앉아 나는 장화에 담긴 물을 마시듯이 글자를 적는다 묶어놓은 편지 다발은 눈물로 가득 찬 얼굴 진정하지 않는 너의 고양이가 젖은 책의 젖가슴 위에서 떤다

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WET BOOK

I walk along the street that is filling up with water. The evening outruns me like a truck covered in a dark blue tarp. The dark and narrow alley -- is this the right way? My room on low ground easily sinks under lukewarm water, even when it is not full tide. I begin anew my search for home.

Remember to take the coat off by the door. I draw a line on my chest to measure the water level today. Humans are bound to leak. When everyone blinked at once, my bed floated away on their tears. The books that I kept in the bathtub didn’t get wet.

I sit on the chair floating in water, and I sit at the desk floating in water, and I write alphabets the way I drink water from rain boots. The tied up bundle of letters is a face filled with tears. Your cat won’t calm down. She trembles on the bosom of the wet book.

WET BOOK

I walk along the street that is filling up with water. The evening outruns me like a truck covered in a dark blue tarp. The dark and narrow alley -- is this the right way? My room on low ground easily sinks under lukewarm water, even when it is not full tide. I begin anew my search for home.

Remember to take the coat off by the door. I draw a line on my chest to measure the water level today. Humans are bound to leak. When everyone blinked at once, my bed floated away on their tears. The books that I kept in the bathtub didn’t get wet.

I sit on the chair floating in water, and I sit at the desk floating in water, and I write alphabets the way I drink water from rain boots. The tied up bundle of letters is a face filled with tears. Your cat won’t calm down. She trembles on the bosom of the wet book.

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Ludo Pieters Gastschrijver Fonds
Hendrik Muller fonds
Lira fonds
J.E. Jurriaanse
Literature Translation Institute of Korea
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère