Dace

“After you died I could not hold a funeral
And so my life became a funeral.

Oh, return to me.
Oh, return to me when I call your name.
Do not delay any longer. Return to me now.

After you died I couldn't hold a funeral,
So these eyes that once beheld you became a shrine.
These ears that once heard your voice became a shrine.
These lungs that once inhaled your breath became a shrine.

The flowers that bloom in spring, the willows, the raindrops and snowflakes became shrines.


The morning ushering in each day, the evenings that daily darken, became shrines.

After you died I couldn't hold a funeral, so my life became a funeral.
After you were wrapped in a tarpaulin and carted away in a garbage truck,
After sparkling jets of water sprayed unforgivably from the fountain.
Everywhere the lights of the temple shrines are burning.
In the flowers that bloom in spring, in the snowflakes. In the evenings that draw each day to a close. Sparks from the candles, burning in empty drinks bottles.”
― Han Kang, Human Acts