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 · 1 passages · 112 Chinese characters · reading time 1.2 min
Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) Former Collection, Book 10 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.
In the cleared garden spring is fine and the flowers burst open all together,
and a light wind flutters in the air, scattering the willow down.
Too listless to face the bright mirror, her steps are a little slow,
and as her bloom dwindles the rosy face is altered.
She trims her waist with jade pendants and bares her jade arms.
Softly swaying, she still pours out lovely, wave-like glances.
A single strain of the zither draws out a sorrowful tune slowly,
and on her red cheeks two streams of pearl-tears scatter.
The one gone traveling is dissolute and slow, slow to return,
and when she has heard the oriole's words her heart is wholly broken.
Her clear dream flies off alone, and half the long night is gone;
the moon lighting the ridgepole and pillars comes idly to keep her company.
Her tangled, deep sorrow runs wild in a thousand strands,
and sealing up her heart she weaves brocade whose red figures dazzle.
The traveler's traces are cut off and not even a wild goose comes;
the road is far and the grief is long, and the sky is blue and boundless.