一月三十日寄野堂吁齋
一月三十日。一日又一宵。宵宵夢二公。旣寤心搖搖。每於晝寐閒。兩公欣相招。會未終一言。開眼還無聊。冬曦不可夕。夏夜不可朝。昬明百卄刻。刻刻精魂消。有蔚進禮山。崧山何迢迢。道里千有餘。相望天泬漻。一別踰三年。朱顔日以凋。南極鳳凰去。滿眼紛鴟梟。喪亂草閒逃。邈矣彤弓弨。語之聽者誰。長策沉蒭蕘。安得身生翰。挾彼天風飄。飄然往從公。駟虬躋紫霄。俯釀天之河。挹以北斗杓。沃玆下土渴。萬世無焦焦。從公歌旣醉。左右擊咎繇。卒歲以遨遊。一洗離憂饒。會合非人爲。望公空長謠。
The Thirtieth Day of the First Month: A Letter to Yatang and Ujae
On the thirtieth day of the first month— One day and one night, Every night I dream of two friends. Waking, my heart trembles. During my afternoon slumber, Both friends call to me with warm welcome. We meet but cannot finish even a single word Before I open my eyes to find myself alone. Winter's sun cannot set, Summer's night cannot dawn— A hundred and twenty marks of dark and light, Each one draining away my soul. Ulsan Ridge rises verdant in the distance, Yet Mount Song stretches so far away. Over a thousand miles the road extends, And the sky between us grows ever more distant. Three years have passed since we parted, And my youthful face withers day by day. The phoenix has flown toward the southern pole, Leaving only owls in my sight. Amid the chaos, we fled to the grass, And the gifts of the court now seem but a dream. Who would hear if I spoke? Wise counsel lies buried in silence. Oh, that I might grow wings upon my back, Catch the wind of heaven, And drift away to follow you— Riding upon celestial dragons to the purple heights, Drawing forth the river of heaven, Ladling it with the Big Dipper's spoon, Pouring it upon this thirsty earth So it would never burn again. Then I would follow you in song and wine, While all around us drums would sound, And we would wander the whole year through, Washing away all sorrow and worry. But since reunion lies beyond my power, I can only gaze and sing this endless song.