The ship departed
without a sound,
its wake trailing
the tail of regret.

All the multitude
sank beneath the sky,
while the sea alone
rose upward.

Each time the future surged—
ah,
that’s right,
for far too long
I had buried myself.

Even so,
I fell
into an exhausted sleep.

Now,
climbing onto
a new multitude,
you and I
cling to each other,
running forward.

O land you called—
my Canaan,
my promised refuge!

Everywhere and whenever the ship arrives,
they say, Rise
you, whom I love,
wait with arms wide open.

—Yoon Tae-Hun, 1998