Like a Revolution or Like a Guerrilla (Poet : Gim Jaheun)
The snowflakes were growing bigger and bigger.
It was the first snow, but the flakes were quite full.
It looks like they’ll accumulate quite a bit—
Looking out of the bus at the whitening world outside,
I absentmindedly repeated the words of a poet sitting behind me.
The snow is falling like a revolution,
These words of the poet next to me hit me out of the blue
Through my ears that had been listening attentively to the sound outside.
Snow falling like a revolution…
Suddenly, I remembered the name Che Guevara in Czech
And the phrase “like a guerrilla,” at the same time.
Perhaps, rather than the grand phrase “like a revolution,”
This specific phrase, “like a guerrilla,” suits this situation better?
While I was pondering this,
Another sentence, jokingly uttered by a poet, flew toward me:
The first snow is falling on us, and the last snow on her.[1]
The cars appeared to hesitate ever since we got onto the highway.
I thought it was because of the snow, falling either like a revolution or a guerrilla,
But it was actually because of repaving work underway.
From the tar, vapor rose profusely
And mixed with the snowflakes from the sky.
The first snow of this year is definitely not romantic,
But is either like a revolution or like a guerrilla.
Muttering like that, I transferred to subway line 5.
From the train packed with people
To the stairs up to Gwanghwamun Square,
Two million people attending the 5th Candlelight Vigil raised high the candlelight of public opinion.
[1] Soon-to-be-ousted President Park at the time this poem was written.
