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 · 110 Chinese characters · reading time 1.1 min
Dongguk Isangguk Jip (Collected Works of Minister Yi of the Eastern Country) Latter Collection, Book 1 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.
My years have already passed seventy, when the heart may be followed,
and in office I have risen to the place of a chancellor.
By now I might well let go of carving and polishing words,
so why can I not give it up?
Chanting in the morning, I am like a cricket;
whistling in the evening, like a kite.
There is nothing to be done — a demon is there,
secretly following me night and day.
Once it fastens on, it does not loose its hold a moment,
and it has brought me to this pass.
Day after day I slice my liver and heart,
press out the juice, and make a few poems.
Fat and liquor
no longer remain beneath my skin.
Standing all bare bones, I chant in torment,
and this figure of mine is truly worth a laugh.
I have no words that would startle anyone —
how should they be worth leaving to a thousand years?
I clap my hands and laugh aloud at myself,
and when the laughing stops, I chant again.
My death and life will surely come of this:
this illness even a physician can hardly cure.
Interlinear notes 1
自知漸作痼疾。猶不能自止。故作詩傷之。
Knowing myself that it was gradually becoming a chronic ailment, and yet unable to stop, I made this poem to grieve over it.