Yetgeul › Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) › Former Collection, Book 17

The abbot Hyeon (賢), a reverend monk, had nailed to the wall the poems made by various guests who had passed through, and asked me to match their rhymes住老賢上人。以過客諸公所賦詩釘壁。乞予次韻。

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 · 2 passages · 80 Chinese characters · reading time 0.8 min

Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) Former Collection, Book 17 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.

1First poem

巖深藏古寺。林暝失前村。野雉莎鞦靡。山鷄錦翼翻。誰家松蓋屋。是處柳搖門。流落吾何恨。渾身費國恩。

The rocks run deep and hide the old temple The woods are dark and the village ahead is lost A field pheasant passes and the sedge lies flat A mountain fowl turns over its brocade wings Whose house is it, where pines cover the roof Everywhere the willows sway against the gates Why should I resent being adrift and cast down When my whole body has used up the country's grace

Interlinear notes 1

二首

There are two poems.

2Second poem

落日低層嶺。孤雲界遠村。鳥尋泉脈吸。牛踏地皮翻。境勝賓留句。僧高盜避門。主人情鄭重。鮫泣感深恩。

The setting sun hangs low on the tiered ridge A lone cloud draws a border on the far village The birds seek out the spring's vein and drink The oxen tread the skin of the earth and turn it over The view is good, so guests leave their verses behind The monk is lofty, so even thieves shun his gate The host's feeling is grave and courteous And I weep like a merman, moved by his deep kindness