Cos'è?

by Ko Un

Poesie minime, ispirate alla filosofia son, lo zen coreano, di uno scrittore fluviale, autore di oltre centocinquanta opere, poesie, saggi critici, romanzi, riconosciuto come il più importante poeta vivente della Corea del Sud. Nei suoi versi, rarefatti come l’aria di montagne altissime, le parole sono in prestito, temporanei sostegni d’illuminazioni improvvise, bagliori, frecce che folgorano, si accendono, scoccano. Una volta rivelata la realtà del mondo nella sua profondità, semplice ed evidente, potrebbero anche dissolversi nel silenzio. Ma la necessità di rispondere alla domanda permane: il senso dell’esperienza, l’intensità della vita del cosmo in ogni suo più piccolo dettaglio, cos’è?

Genres: Poetry, Zen, Buddhism, Spirituality

146 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1991

About the author

In korean: 고 은

Ko was born Ko Untae in Gunsan, North Jeolla Province in 1933. He was at Gunsan Middle School when war broke out.
The Korean War emotionally and physically traumatized Ko and caused the death of many of his relatives and friends. Ko's hearing suffered from acid that he poured into his ears during an acute crisis in this time and it was further harmed by a police beating in 1979. In 1952, before the war had ended, Ko became a Buddhist monk. After a decade of monastic life, he chose to return to the active, secular world in 1962 to become a devoted poet. From 1963 to 1966 he lived on Jejudo, where he set up a charity school, and then moved back to Seoul. His life was not calm in the outer world, and he wound up attempting suicide (a second time) in 1970.
Around the time the South Korean government attempted to curb democracy by putting forward the Yusin Constitution in late 1972, Ko became very active in the democracy movement and led efforts to improve the political situation in South Korea, while still writing prolifically and being sent to prison four times (1974, 1979, 1980 and 1989). In May 1980, during the coup d'etat led by Chun Doo-hwan, Ko was accused of treason and sentenced to 20 years' imprisonment. He was released in August 1982 as part of a general pardon.
After his release, his life became calmer; however, he startled his large following by revising many of his previously published poems. Ko married Sang-Wha Lee on May 5, 1983, and moved to Anseong, Gyeonggi-do, where he still lives. He resumed writing and began to travel, his many visits providing fabric for the tapestry of his poems. Since 2007, he is a visiting scholar in Seoul National University, and teaches poetics and literature.

Reviews

[Steve]

In an earlier review

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...

where I provide a bit of the backstory of Korean poet Ko Un (b. 1933), I mention that he was a Son (Zen) monk for a decade but left the church deeply disappointed. His disappointment was directed at the institution and some persons, but he did not renounce the teachings of Son Buddhism, nor did they stop informing his stance towards life and the world.

108 is a significant number in Buddhism, and it is the number of beads in a Buddhist mala, the string of prayer beads used to keep track of the many kinds of repetition involved in various aspects of Buddhist practice. The 108 short poems in Ko's What? 108 Zen Poems are strongly, but certainly not exclusively, Buddhist in topic and expression. Like the more secular collection Flowers of a Moment, the poems range from 15 lines down to haiku-like distillations of 2 or 3 lines. There are even a few poems of one line in this volume.

Ko is not following the lead of the haiku aesthetes in these poems but instead that of the early "mad" Taoist and Ch'an Buddhist masters, who used contradiction, paradox and (even an occasionally crude) humor to get across their point.

With simple and colloquial language Ko is able to summon much of life's richness onto the pages of his books, and the rhetorical range of these 108 little poems is wide. After reading three collections of his poetry, I see Ko's flexibility of spirit as one of his finest features. Any choice of a few poems from this book will be necessarily unrepresentative.

One recurring theme is that of the uselessness of words in grasping the essential, a basic tenet of the early Taoist and Ch'an masters, which was turned against even the holy writings of the Buddhist church by these masters. In this poem, Ko turns it against the least verbal of all verbal expressions - the koan used by Zen masters to shake their students out of their received ways of thinking and perceiving.

The Horizon

I stood facing the horizon over the East Sea.
What had become of the seventeen hundred
koan-riddles?
The sound of waves
the sound of waves.
Playing with you I threw them away.

There is the slapstick abuse of one of the holiest texts:

The Lotus Sutra

The Lotus Sutra. Ultimate reality.
So far
you've been bashing me badly.
Now
I'll cudgel you, bastard.
Oh! Ouch!
You're made for bashing.
Oh! Ouch!
Oh! Ouch!

The Lotus Sutra dashed away
Fields open wide,
once the farmers have gone.

Quite different is this poem, by a man who suffered a great deal from the "wind":

The Wind

Never beg the wind for mercy.
Tall wild lilies and such
scented white lilies and such
one-day lilies and such
once all your stems have snapped
produce new buds. It's not too late.

And what about this updating of a standard theme in Asian poetry:

A Drunkard

I've never been an individual entity.
Sixty trillion cells!
I'm a living collectivity.
I'm staggering zigzag along,
sixty trillion cells, all drunk.

Since I mentioned the mala:

A Rosary

Angulimala was a devil of a cutthroat.
That fellow
sliced off the fingers of the people he killed
and wore them
strung dingle-dangle around his neck,
including his father's fingers.

That was a real hundred-eight bead rosary.
Every bead on the string
a life.


A one-liner:

A Rainbow

There are such things. I straighten myself.

The poems in the collection Flowers of a Moment are closer in nature and expression to more standard presentations of poetic moments, and though they are enjoyable, they do not compare well with those of the best poets, in my view.

Rating

http://leopard.booklikes.com/post/900...

[Jessaka · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was a very nice book of Zen poems although it didn't meet my expectations after reading his wonderful book, "Flowers of the Moment."
Ko Un was born in South Korea and was one of the front runners for the Nobel Prize for Literature. He was traumatized by the lost of many of his family and friends in the Korean War. He became a a Zen monk soon after, and after his master left the monastery to get married, he tried to commit suicide. After being a monk for a decade, he returned to secular life. In 1970 he found a newspaper on the floor of a tavern and read a story of a laborer's self-immolation. He thought, "Why did this young man have to die, while I am still alive?" With those thoughts he pulled himself out of his depression which changed forever. He became a political activist during the 70s and 80s, protesting Korea military dictatorship.

Walking Down a Mountain

Looking back
Hey!
There's no trace of the mountain I've just come down
Where am I?
The autumn breeze tosses and turns lifeless
like a cast-off snakeskin.

Deep Feelings

Waiting decades for one snowflake
my body glowerd like charcoal
ten went out.

with it, a sound of cicadas singing
was there, then wasn't.

Words I Like

I'd rather sink to the bottom of the sea
til the end of time
than seek liberation from a lot of sages.

Great! I've got some wine in my glass
and this saying of Master Stonehead's too.

[Riccardo Mainetti · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ho acquistato questo libro di poesie, sulla fiducia, invogliato dalla recensione fattane dalla mia carissima amica Francesca Giuliani, profonda e insaziabile conoscitrice di libri. E' rimasto per settimane ad occhieggiare dall'applicazione Kindle del mio tablet finchè ieri non mi sono finalmente deciso e ne ho divorato le poesie. Sono poesie per lo più brevi e fulminanti. In poche righe, o meglio, com'è più corretto dire trattandosi di poesie, in pochi versi, l'autore, uno dei più famosi poeti orientali ed il più grande poeta coreano, svolge il tema di turno regalandoci piccole perle che, pur nella loro brevità, esprimono concetti a volte molto profondi.
Ko Un dimostra così, con la sua raccolta di poesie intitolata "Cos'è?", che non serve dilungarsi oltremodo per esprimere concetti importanti o comunque per creare poesie degne di essere lette e gustate a fondo. Confesso di sentire la necessità di rileggermi "Cos'è?" così da poter comprendere appieno il significato delle sue poesie, specie di quelle che alla prima lettura non sono stato in grado di capire in quanto, lo ammetto, in alcuni casi, pur gustando comunque i versi di Ko Un, il significato vero e profondo di alcune poesie di "Cos'è?" mi è sfuggito. Questo comunque non mi dispiace affatto in quanto mi consentirà di bearmi nuovamente dell'immersione nell'arte poetica di Ko Un.

[Joseph · Rating 4 out of 5]

What?: 108 Zen Poems , by Ko Un. Foreword by Allen Ginsberg. Introduction by Thich Nhat Hanh.

The Korean poet and former Buddhist monk Ko Un is one of the great masters of the playful insight. He deploys gentle humor, irreverent wit, Zen non-sequiturs, and compassionate tenderness—sometimes in a single poem! Best read quickly, the way you eat popcorn, or popcorn shrimp.
ECHO

To Mountains at dusk:
What are you?

What are you are you . . .

HOUSE

Grow high. The devil can't find you.
Grow deep. Buddha can't find you.
Build a house and live there.
Gourd creepers will climb over it,
their flowers dazzling at midnight.

Gary Snyder blurbs, "Ko Un outfoxes the Old Masters and Young poets both."

[Frank Jude · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ko Un, the Korean 'premier' zen poet and former Buddhist monk, presents 108 short "Zen Poems" which are meant to be read as 'koan--like mental firecrackers.' And while many most certainly do, there are also many that fall 'flat' for western ears with little fore-knowledge of Korean political, and spiritual history.

That said, I still appreciate his efforts, and savored many of the offerings in this little collection, and heartily recommend it for anyone feeling any affinity for Zen Buddhism.

[Mariano Hortal · Rating 4 out of 5]

Publicado en http://lecturaylocura.com/ananda-108-...

“Ananda. 108 poemas Zen” de Ko Un. Cuando los análisis (y las palabras) sobran

En este post hablé extensamente del poeta surcoreano Ko Un; a propósito de la lectura de “Ananda. 108 poemas Zen” opto por la simplicidad. Que mis palabras no emborronen la claridad y la sapiencia de cada verso del autor oriental. Que me convierta en simple transmisor de su obra. Una obra sencillamente magistral en su minimalismo aunque sin exención de lirismo. Bastan tres reflexiones del prólogo de Jesús Ferrero para introducirse en este libro:
“Estos sutras modernos salidos de la mente diáfana y turbia de Ko Un, son también una escritura flotante y transparente, que hiere y acaricia, que hiela y quema a la vez, y que convida a disfrutar en profundidad de la vida de la mente y de la vida de la piel.”
“[..] la buena poesía no exige que la entendamos, exige que entremos en ella como quien entra en su casa (lo más propio) y como quien entra en el mar (lo más ajeno). Así hay que entrar también en Ananda: Cada poema es un atolón que pide que nos hundamos en su laguna para ver la luz que surge del mismo fondo, y es que la llave que abre el sentido y el sinsentido de cada composición está casi siempre en el último verso, que ilumina de forma inesperada los versos anteriores y que convierte cada poema en una pequeña revelación, en un pequeño satori.”
“Acabo de darte las claves fundamentales para adentrarte en este archipiélago de ciento ocho islas afortunadas y te juro que no necesitas más. Ya sólo me queda desearte una feliz navegación. Cuando llegues al último poema, se sentirás despojado de gravedad y pesadumbre. Los poemas de Ko Un, que sin embargo no ocultan verdad alguna, son un antídoto contra el sentimiento tétrico de la vida y el sentimiento trágico de la existencia.”
A partir de aquí sólo quedan los versos de Ko Un:

“Bebé”
Antes de tu nacimiento
Antes que tu padre
Antes que tu madre

Tu balbuceo ya estaba ahí.

“Sala de meditación”
Intenta sentarte
No sólo un Kalpa
Sino durante diez Kalpas,
Ninguna iluminación llegará

Simplemente diviértete
Con tus angustias e ilusiones

Entonces levántate
*Un kalpa es el número de años que tardan el Cielo y la Tierra en completar un ciclo de terminación y renacimiento, la mayor unidad de tiempo concebible.

“Simplemente”
Se dice que seguimos
El camino que cada uno ha tomado
Porque alguien nos dijo que lo tomemos
Se dice que el agua que fluye simplemente
por el valle
Está fluyendo
Porque alguien le dijo que lo hiciera

Qué pobre es la sabiduría humana

“Verano”
Los veranos siguen al sol
Ciegos
Las campanillas se abren a la luz de la luna
Ciegas

¡Qué locura!
Esto es todo lo que saben
Las libélulas vuelan por el día
Los escarabajos por la noche

“Una siesta”
El mundo reposa en el útero
Aquello fue un buen sueño
Ahora quisiera salir afuera

Llorar. Eso es todo.

¿Verdad que no hace falta nada más?

Los textos provienen de la traducción del coreano de Jong Kwon Tae (revisada por Isabel R. Cachera) de “Ananda. 108 poemas Zen” de Ko Un para la Editorial Casariego.

[Evan · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm only giving this four stars because i didn't understand most of it. Korean poetry is pretty far fetched for me, living in the west, but i decided to give it a shot because of the zen-based therapy i'm undergoing at the moment.
And boy did these poems make me thing.
A beautiful work of litterature, but it just happened not to me by thing.

[Jonathan Tennis · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is about as zen as a poet can get - ““Mountain is mountain / water is water,” Daineng chanted. / “Mountain is not mountain / water is not water,” Daineng chanted. / Eat your food. / Once you’ve eaten, go shit.” (p. 69, Mountain is Mountain)

[George Spirakis · Rating 3 out of 5]

Άλλο... Διαφορετικό. Κι ανάμεσά τους κάτι μπορείς να βρεις. Θέλει απλά το χρόνο του.

"Ε, άνθρωπε, κλάψε μέχρι να σου χυθούν τα μάτια".

[Maria · Rating 3 out of 5]

Woops, I didn’t see the notes until I got to them!
It’s a nice book though, even if I didn’t ‘get’ everything.
Will reread while reading the notes!

[Patti K · Rating 3 out of 5]

This small book includes some gems but is overall uneven. Mostly irreverent takes on Zen Buddhism with surprise endings. Still worthwhile.

[David Gorgone · Rating 5 out of 5]

Perfect little snapshots of poetry. I am not a buddhist, but I can appreciate their brilliance.

[Joe · Rating 4 out of 5]

“I met Ko Un in Seoul in 1989 at a poetry reading. A precocious scholar, then conscripted People’s Army worker, then alms begging monk ten years, then Buddhist Newspaper Editor-in-Chief, then he took off his robes in nihilist despair. Then he became headmaster of a southern Island charity school, then prolific writer and drunk, then would-be suicide, then militant nationalist rebel against police state, then Secy. General of Association of Artists for Practical Freedom, then detainee & political jailbird, meanwhile prolific writer, translator, and literary archivist, then at age 50 a husband and father, then epic-historical militant bard, prisoner in 1980, then epic poet of Paekdu Mountain and narrative poet of character vignettes Ten Thousand Lives, a monumental series of anecdotal ‘characters’ written in Korean spoken idiom, finally a demon-driven Bodhisattva of Korean poetry, exuberant, demotic, abundant, obsessed with poetic creation, ‘widely acknowledged to be Korea’s foremost contemporary poet,’ according to his translators.”—Allen Ginsberg, from his foreword in this edition (August 27, 1994)

“In 1995, the poet Ko Un interviewed me for a program on the Buddhist television network in Seoul. As we sat together in the studio, sharing our thoughts and experiences on many topics, I felt I was in the presence of a Dharma brother. I told him I had the feeling we had done this many times before. The more I learned about his life, the closer I felt to him. Ko Un was a Buddhist monk, and he is also a poet, a writer, and an ardent worker for peace. He is also a man of great insight. When he was imprisoned by the military dictatorship for his efforts for peace, his deep Buddhist practice sustained him. Living mindfully in each moment, he knew what to do and what not to do to help himself and others as well.”—Thich Nhat Hanh, from his introduction to this edition (July 1997)

After thinking about lessons that I could design to link literature to the ethnic identities of my students, I began to think about literature in relation to my own ethnic identity and wondered why there are not many well-known Korean texts translated into English that are circulated in the U.S. and the West in general. Given what is said in a 2016 article by Mythili G. Rao, a writer for The New Yorker, about the factors contributing to the dearth of Korean literature in the West and impeding Korean writers from winning the Nobel Prize in Literature such as translation issues (Korean is a complicated and "sophisticated" language) and the relative lack of passionate readers and writers in Korea, I wonder how much gets lost in translation when reading works translated from Korean into English. In wanting to learn more about Korean literature, I came across renowned Korean contemporary poet Ko Un, and in this book of poems, What? 108 Zen Poems, I was delighted to encounter a collection of concise, sagacious Korean Seon poems with natural motifs insightfully touching upon Buddhist ideas and existential themes like nothingness, transience, and temporality.

“A Moonlit Night”

Everything out here’s shining bright.
The mortar’s bright and empty.

No wonder the grasshoppers are silent!

“A Moonless Night”

No moon up
yet the two hundred miles
between you and me
shine bright all the night long.
That dog that’ll die tomorrow
	doesn’t know it’s going to die.
It’s barking fiercely.

[Tonje · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read it in Norwegian, translated by Jarne Byhre og Henning Kramer Dahl.

[Víctor Bermúdez · Rating 2 out of 5]

decenas de años
esperé un copo de nieve
mi cuerpo ardía como una brasa
se apagó

[Filosofemme]

Cos’è? è una raccolta di poesie scritte da Ko Un, notissimo intellettuale ultraottantenne della Corea del Sud. Dietro ai brevi versi che spesso possono risultare incomprensibili si cela... LEGGI TUTTA LA RECENSIONE https://www.filosofemme.it/2018/10/22...