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Autumn Sonata: On Seoul, Love & Quietness

October 25, 2016 / by / 0 Comment

IMG_20161016_151214In those moments of solitude up there at the Namsan park, overlooking the Seoul cityscape that floats in the sea of lights, I feel the bleak touch of the evening breeze on my fingers. Strange isn’t it, this emptiness has a sense of entropy, an awareness of my quiet denials? Maybe when the breeze slips between tender souls it loses its nature and braces warmth. That warmth in those padlocks of love. So much more of the fervor radiating from so many cute locks. Closer to luminance, closer to posterity.

My footsteps faintly deter from conscious descend, there’s still some baekseju left in the bottle. I gulp it down my throat not letting its taste grow inside me. It’s quite pungent and I don’t want to remember. I hiked from Myeondong so I know the way back. I walk into the brilliant sea that I saw from the Seoul tower. They paved paths in this sea and represented it as a labyrinth on this map that I attempt to read and understand, in vain. Why endeavor in futility when leaves endures this fall, year after year? That frail star-shaped leaf, looked like a maple, that I stepped on down my trail trusts the Almighty to take care of it in this fall, has faith on the plot taken by its own veins over its face. Not afraid of getting crushed anymore, prepared to fly and then sleep under snow, it knows its course- it is plainly imprinted on its skin, I should have attempted to read its contour and follow, instead of this map. But I was in a hurry.

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Unlike the halcyon morning when I can look at tree leaves swing to the rhythm of the soft wind, this evening rush makes me numb to the pace at which the person beside me walks across the zebra crossing and people from the other shore merely flash by on the slate board of my memory, faces transfigured and footsteps fragmented. I cannot reconcile the illusion conjured up in this city. Does my free will dictate how I perceive motion or is my haste being determined by the constant hum of this city? Didn’t I plan of staying quiet and merely stroll along the Cheonggyecheon stream listening to the music of love? So there I kept my promise.

 

Through meandering hallways hail mercy, I reach Užupis

There autumn rusts leaves,

Love still whispers inside temples, silence swells

Deep inside the stream for sadness to quell.

Moments fond of yester like that’s sunshine,

Living beneath glass I wonder skies desire

Shawl, though there won’t be snow,

Dreamy eyes fou closer bitter than before.

Leaving Užupis I guess last unread pages,

Back into the shelf slide words maps frames, quietly

Hoping someday a voice will call out me,

To the city of Seoul.




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