Yetgeul › Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) › Former Collection, Book 2

Meeting Snow on the Road, Reaching Anhwa Temple, and Presenting This to the Monk Dang路中遇雪。行至安和寺呈幢師。

Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) 東國李相國集 · Yi Gyubo · Compiled 1241 (Goryeo, 28th year of King Gojong); revised and enlarged 1251 · 3 passages · 84 Chinese characters · reading time 0.8 min

Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) Former Collection, Book 2 The collected writings of Yi Gyubo of Goryeo, gathered and cut in woodblock by his son Yi Ham in 1241 and revised and enlarged by his grandson Yi Ikbae in 1251. It holds poems and rhapsodies, memorials and reports sent up to the king, records written for temples and pagodas, stele and tomb inscriptions, letters and prefaces, and the state letters that passed to and from the Mongols during the invasions. The Lay of King Dongmyeong, which sings the founder of Goguryeo, stands in volume 3 of the first collection, and the daily life of a man who called himself the White Cloud Layman — with his wine, his zither and his verse — fills the later collection. The book closes with the last poem he wrote as his eyes failed and he laid down the brush, and with the dirge and tomb inscription others made for him after his death.

朔風號怒聳肩行。一路瑤塵一樣平。懶拂寒衫從滿袂。忽驚還作白衣生。

The north wind roars in its rage, and I go with shoulders hunched; the whole road is one level stretch of jade dust. Too lazy to beat my cold jacket, I let it fill my sleeves, and am startled of a sudden: I have turned into a white-robed scholar again.

Interlinear notes 1

三首

Three poems.

巾頭髣髴簪花色。履下彭鏗踏玉聲。畫得漁蓑已陳品。欲看新樣故徐行。

My kerchiefed head has faintly the look of a flower stuck in it; under my shoes comes the clink and crunch of treading on jade. The fisherman's straw cape of the paintings is an old article already; wanting a look at the new fashion, I go slowly on purpose.

一送春歸未挽廻。至今悵望抱餘哀。天公惜我殷勤意。故遣狂花律外開。

Once I had sent the spring away I could not draw it back, and to this day I gaze ruefully and hold what grief is left. The Lord of Heaven, pitying my earnest heart, has purposely sent these mad flowers to open out of season.