Category: DailyLife

[Wine Bits and Sips] The Charm of Wine

I share a series of Wine Bits and Sips, written by Junghyun. We invite you to start your wine journey right here, with us as your friendly guide, Junghyun.

for the original Korean version

Winery of Chateauneuf du Paoe

D·I·V·E·R·S·I·T·Y.

Before we dive into wine cellars, ratings, and the age-old debate whether an expensive bottle is truly worth its price, let me tell you why I got into wine in the first place.

The beauty of wine, I think, is this: without packing a bag or going anywhere, you can sit still and travel the world through all five senses. That’s the charm, and sometimes, honestly, it can also be the headache. Choosing a wine can feel like a multiple-choice question with answer options that spill onto the next page. You can’t always get it right. But that’s exactly why the moment you stumble upon something extraordinary feels so electrifying. One unexpected sip can make your eyes go wide in wonder. When a wine truly delights you, even the long hunting for that perfect bottle becomes a kind of play. The risk is, of course, that if you fail too many times in a row, the motivation to keep trying quietly fades away. Along with it, you lose the chance of ever finding that one wine that brings you genuine happiness. This is why, rather than picking at random, it helps to improve your odds a little bit.

That’s what this series is about.

Start with a Grape You Like

The usual advice is to begin your journey by finding a grape variety you enjoy.

Build a framework, something to anchor your choices so they’re easier to remember. In the New World, many wines are crafted from a single, well-known variety, which makes comparisons much easier. Mid-range American wines in particular tend to express their grape variety in a direct, straightforward way. Trying different bottles from the same producer, such as Long Barn or Textbook, across different varieties is a great way to map out your preferences. Textbook is best known for its reds and produces across a wide range, including Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, and Sauvignon Blanc, with Pinot Noir being a more recent addition to their lineup. Each grape brings its own skin thickness, natural sugars, and character, and you’ll taste these differences in the glass as distinct wine’s texture, tannins, acidity, and finishes. Once you discover a variety you love, you can begin expanding your horizons by seeking out the same grape from different countries. However, keep in mind that this is only one of many ways to explore the world of wine. 

Collaborative Harmony of Grape, Terroir, and Tradition

Wine, they say, is a joint creation of the grape, the terroir, and the winemaker’s human hand. In France, it’s traditional not to list the grape variety on the label. Bordeaux-style blends are common, and the French tend to feel that variety alone doesn’t determine the wine’s soul. They see little reason to highlight it as the primary feature. During a Bordeaux winery tour years ago, where most of the guests were American. The winemaker poured a glass of deep, dark red wine and challenged us to guess the grape. Most guessed Cabernet Sauvignon or Syrah. The answer? 100% Merlot. These graphs came from vines nearly a hundred years old, rooted in the dry, stony soil of a hillside. While we were in Saint-Émilion on the Right Bank, an area where Merlot is the dominant variety and typically blended with small amounts of Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon, that tasting was a revelation. It was the exact moment the concept of terroir finally clicked for me, instantly and completely.

I came to wine with a strong conviction that France was its spiritual home of wine, so I started there, tasting my way across the regions one glass at a time. Unlike the New World, France places terroir at the center of everything. I fell for the rich, brooding tannins of Bordeaux reds: that dark tropical fruit, the weight, and a seductive, perfume-like quality that lingers like a single drop of fragrance. A wine with real complexity doesn’t just speak to your palate. It speaks to your imagination. I’d find myself picturing an elegant woman in a field of wildflowers or something bold, dynamic, almost physical. That’s Bordeaux red to me.

The Pope’s Wine and a New Obsession

Chataeuneuf du pape bottle

Then came Châteauneuf-du-Pape (CDP), often called the Pope’s wine, hailing from the southern Rhône valley. During the Avignon Papacy, Pope John XXII built a summer residence and a winery north of Avignon, giving the region its name, which translates to the “new castle of the Pope.” While history suggests that the wines of the Rhône still required refinement at the time, leading the Pope to reportedly ship in Burgundy until local quality improved. One of the most striking features of these bottles is the embossed papal coat of arms, featuring the tiara over the keys of Saint Peter, which sets them apart from everything else on the shelf. CDP is a blend led by Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvèdre (GSM), along with other permitted varieties [the list has been revised from 13 down to 9 permitted varieties], which gives it a characteristic complexity. As a wine built for long aging, it possesses both power and elegance that never disappoints. Rich and full-bodied, yet more reasonably priced than Bordeaux or Burgundy, so it’s become my trusted bottle. It is a wine that feels particularly right from late autumn through the Christmas season, offering a warmth from the inside out. The only catch: it’s not exactly an everyday-priced bottle. Though when you see the vineyard, where every grape is hand-harvested and farmed organically, the price starts to feel entirely fair.

Southern Rhône Syrah: the Original Heritage

One afternoon at Lotte department store wine event, a staff recommendation led me to a Southern French Syrah. 

Most people associate Syrah with Australia, but it originated in France’s south. Phylloxera (a kind of aphid) devastated the vineyards of the region in the 19th century, and the Syrah planted today is technically a reimported variety; however, something about this land remains unchanged. The combination of limestone and gravel soils, paired with the fierce Mistral wind, gives Southern French Syrah a character entirely unlike its Australian counterpart. I drank a 2012 vintage in 2023 and was struck by the kind of balance and depth that only a well-aged, high-quality wine can offer. That specific wine is no longer imported, but whenever I spot a Syrah from the neighboring Roussillon region, it goes straight into my basket. Roussillon was long known for cheap table wine, but with talented winemakers moving in, the quality has surged, and you now find genuinely excellent value there.

A Recommendation That Changed My Mind

When dining out, I often ask for a wine pairing recommendation, a habit that sometimes leads me to bottles I’d never have chosen for myself.

This is exactly what happened at a wine bar near my home. I typically did not reach for American wines, and when it comes to whites, I rarely stray beyond French Chardonnay, but this was wonderful, offering a rich, almost oily texture and ripe orange fruit, complemented by a touch of oak and just a whisper of mineral on the finish. It was quite simply delicious. Curious to see whether I could find a similar experience elsewhere, I tracked down a South African Chardonnay in the $20 range. South Africa occupies somewhere between the Old World and the New with a wine history that is much longer than most people realize. The Dutch East India Company planted vines there as early as 1662, producing the country’s first wine by 1669. By the 1880s, South Africa had become one of England’s premier wine suppliers until politics, natural disasters, and war pushed it into obscurity for decades. It was only under the presidency of Nelson Mandela that the wine industry began to rebuild. Today, South African winemakers draw from both traditions by studying Burgundian techniques while embracing the expressive, fruit-forward styles of the New World. The result is a collection of wines with a unique identity that often provide exceptional value.

Every new variety, region, and producer weaves together terroir, intention, and craftsmanship into a story that awakens all five senses. The world of wine is truly boundless.

This is how I travel the world, right from the glass on my dinner table.

Spring Flower Hyacinth

written by Younghee Lee, Essayist

for the original Korean version

Drawn by the warm sunlight, I stepped out into the yard and gently brushed aside the fallen persimmon leaves that had piled up since last autumn. As expected, beneath the leaves, pale green shoots and light purple flower buds were pushing their way up here and there. My heart, which had been shriveled during the long winter, filled with joy. I cleared away the leaves so the plants could receive more sunlight.

After Christmas and the year-end holidays pass, there are flowers that announce the arrival of spring first in my yard. It is the purple hyacinth. A long time ago, someone gifted me a pot of this plant. After enjoying its blooms, I planted the bulb under the persimmon tree. Since then, it has multiplied year after year, producing more flowers each spring. Like orchids, hyacinths grow green leaves on both sides, with a flower stalk rising from the center. Dozens of small blossoms cluster neatly along the stem, forming a single beautiful flower. Every morning, new stalks emerge, creating a feast of purple blooms, which is truly a breathtaking sight.

Looking up the meaning of the flower, I found that the hyacinth symbolizes “eternal love.” In Greek mythology, both Apollo, the sun god, and Zephyrus, the god of the west wind, fell in love with a young boy named Hyacinthus. The boy was exceptionally handsome, athletic, and even brave on the battlefield. Ultimately, Apollo and Hyacinthus became lovers.

One day, the two held a competition in a field to see who could throw a discus further. As Apollo caught a discus brilliantly thrown by Hyacinthus and hurled it high back toward him, Zephyrus – watching the scene in a fit of jealousy – blew a gust of wind. The wind caused the discus to strike the boy’s forehead, and he died. Clasping the boy in his arms, Apollo grieved. As he wept, he sprinkled the blood from the boy’s head onto the grass and promised to bring him back to life as a beautiful flower. Soon after, a flower bloomed from the blood-stained grass, and that flower is said to be the purple hyacinth.

Hyacinths carry different meanings depending on their color. Purple is eternal love and sorrowful love.  Red is love that lingers in the heart. Yellow is courage and win in love. Blue is the joy of love. White is peaceful love. Pink is playfulness and charm. While these expressions may seem distinct, all these meanings seem to represent the many emotions we experience when we love someone.

After the hyacinths fade, wood sorrel (Oxalis, called love plant in Korea), though never planted, spreads across the flower bed. Could it be the lingering traces of a love that didn’t fully blossom?

Then, the persimmon tree, jujube tree, and roses bloom in turn, completing the full arrival of spring in the yard. Watching this scene, I feel as though my own heart is blooming along with the flowers.

When spring arrives, flowers, grass, and trees do their absolute best to sprout and bloom. In doing so, they capture people’s attention and receive their love. They don’t even require much: a drink of water every few days and a few grains of fertilizer whenever they come to mind. Often, I don’t give them any fertilizer at all throughout the year. Still, as if keeping a promise, they bring us joy every day with a different appearance each time spring returns. Shouldn’t we also repay someone for the joy and beauty that nature gives us? Shouldn’t we, like the flowers and trees in our garden, sprout and bloom for someone else? It isn’t that difficult. It can be as simple as giving a bright greeting like a flower, yielding your spot in the checkout line at the market to someone with fewer items, not comparing yourself to others, avoiding greed, and not looking down on those around you.

Just as blooming a flower doesn’t require any extraordinary nutrients, we too can achieve this with just a little bit of effort. We are living in the age of AI (Artificial Intelligence), but I don’t believe we should live by relying solely on computers instead of people. No matter how beautifully a computer creates a flower, it is not a “real” flower. No matter how well an AI robot is made, how could it ever be the same as a human? Even the most wicked person has tears, don’t they?

There are times when we must not simply rush forward. If there is a terrifying cliff ahead and you keep running, you might fall and meet with disaster. Looking at a world where AI dominates every field, I am reminded of the 18th-century French Enlightenment thinker Jean-Jacques Rousseau. He argued that the excessive development of civilization, science, and art makes humans dangerous, corrupts them, and causes inequality. This is a theory worth reflecting on once again. For seniors like us, who must gradually slow down, the arrival of an era driven by artificial intelligence feels somewhat worrying.

I believe Rousseau’s famous words, “Return to Nature,” serve as a warning to us. It is a cry to recover the inherent purity, autonomy, and moral intuition of humanity. I fear that “evil robots” might emerge and harm mankind. We humans have a duty to protect this Earth. God gave us this “Garden of Eden” called Earth in the vast universe. Just as every flower has its own unique characteristics, we humans must also exercise our individuality and traits to create a beautiful paradise.

A Christian Funeral


written by Younghee Lee, Oct 30 2025

For the Korean version

A few days ago, my husband and I attended the funeral of someone we barely knew, the wife of a friend of my husband’s. 

I had met her only once before, more than ten years ago, at her father’s funeral. She was the eldest daughter-in-law. After the service, several of my husband’s classmates gathered with their spouses, but she did not greet us. Instead, she stood apart, speaking eagerly with someone else. None of us got over to greet her as well. It was unusual, and I’ve remembered it ever since. 

I hoped to tell my husband to go by himself, but the funeral hall was some distance away from us, and my husband was not young, and we decided to attend together since the bereaved husband had personally sent the notice, and we felt it was right to go.

At the entrance to the funeral hall, we met the deceased’s husband. He looked worn and solemn, dressed in a white mourning suit. We exchanged greetings quietly, offered our condolences, and took a seat inside where the casket was placed. 

The portrait of the deceased—gentle and faintly smiling—was displayed on either side of the altar. That image was completely different from how I vaguely remembered her. She appeared warmer and more serene than I remembered. We met two of my husband’s classmates and sat together with the classmate who had come alone. 

The service began under the guidance of the deceased’s nephew, a pastor.  Prayers were offered and hymns were sung, following the order of service, and three of her four children shared brief memories of their mother. Only the youngest son spoke at length, sharing about his mother and her faith.

Next came the tributes from friends, many of whom were medical doctors like her husband. One man, visibly unwell, spoke while remaining seated. In a steady but solemn voice, he said, “None of us came here today for the deceased or for her family. We came for ourselves. No matter how faithfully one attends church, unless one is born again, one cannot enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” He quoted John 3, the words of Jesus to Nicodemus about spiritual rebirth.  It was continued. Someday, the deceased came and asked, “Were you reborn? While he just does and lives good habits with his mother’s religion. First her question startled him, and he even felt offended and uncomfortable, but the remark of the deceased allowed him to look back and experience the rebirth and still live with the rebirthed religious faith. Soon, the atmosphere became solemn as everyone reflected on themselves. 

Next it was the deceased’s husband’s turn. He spoke of how they met—how she had come to America and devoted herself to raising their four children and supporting him. His voice trembled as he recalled those early years. 

Fresh out of medical school, he was drafted and assigned a pressure sore patient, but he had never had any operation before. He continued that, unable to decline in front of his subordinates, he mustered the courage to proceed with the surgery, and thanks to the use of U.S.-made (Mijae), Mycin, the patient fortunately made a full recovery. At that time, the corpse used U.S.-made medication. The word “Mijae” caused a burst of laughter.  When we were young, the U.S. products were the best. The word that he succeeded in treating that patient spread widely, and even the community school’s principal visited, and that’s how he eventually met his wife. Standing before her, he reminisced about their youthful days.  A quiet ripple of warmth moved through the room. 

He planned to tell five grateful memories about her, but due to time constraints, he only shared three. How could it be only three? Even the fact that, in her youth, she declined a position as a KBS announcer and chose instead to serve as an announcer for Far East Broadcasting in Korea was itself a testament to the death of her faith. 

When he spoke about his wife, he said that memories came flooding out one after another, like sweet potato stems trailing in a row, and once again the funeral hall erupted in laughter. It was a heartwarming funeral.

The deceased, who passed away at the age of 85, wore the same serene smile from the very beginning, as if satisfied, displayed on both the upper corners of the frontal portrait. As the service drew to a close, the daughters continued to weep with the unmistakable grief of forever bidding farewell to their mother.

The words of Ecclesiastes 7:1-4 came to mind: A good name is better than precious ointment, and the day of death better than the day of birth. It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of everyone; the living should take this to heart. Frustration is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure. 

Most of those present were Christians, yet beyond doctrine, there was a shared understanding, an awareness that life does not end here, and that one must prepare for what lies beyond. 

The essential truth is that before death, no one is exempt. On this autumn day, with the sky so high, I felt I had glimpsed an answer to how I ought to live the remaining time of my life. All the way home, the hymn sung by the deceased’s sister and family, There, in that place, with the Lord, we shall live forever echoed in my ears.

Looking Back on 2024 and 2025, and Still Dreaming of a New Start

When my most recent biotech workplace shut down, I found myself at a crossroads. I still had the energy to dream of building a biotech startup, but after watching two companies I worked for shut down, I couldn’t even convince myself it would succeed.

So, instead, I took a different path. I enrolled in a free nursing course, a CNA program near my home, because I wanted to learn how I could continue helping others. That choice took me back in time to 1997–1998, when I worked with my college seniors in the psychology therapy club Torch Band and visited juvenile detention centers and psychiatric hospitals. Later, in 2008, I also learned about sandplay therapy. Those memories resurfaced as I began my new journey in nursing. After receiving my CNA certification, I worked at a nearby memory center while also preparing for pre-nursing courses. Since my previous college studies hadn’t included all the required U.S. nursing prerequisites. For example, I had taken animal physiology but not human physiology, so I needed to fill such gaps. At the memory care where I worked for a while, I noticed that quite a few seniors struggling with memory loss also had glaucoma. I can’t say that’s scientifically proven. I just noticed that some studies failed to show significant statistics on the connection. Someday, if I have the time, I’d love to dig into Korea’s public medical insurance datasets and explore the common mechanisms behind these conditions in more detail. What made me truly happy was seeing positive changes in the seniors with memory problems I cared for.

Maybe my interest in nursing was also influenced by my first daughter. In high school, she joined a medical club, and before college, she even took part in a high school internship program at Scripps Hospital. Later, even after choosing computer science as her major at UC Davis, she pursued EMT training. But in the summer of 2025, both of us stepped away. I quit my role as a care manager, and she stopped EMT training. That early summer, she was struck by a virus and diagnosed with meningitis. For nearly a month, her life was at risk, and I stayed by her side, helping her fight to survive. It brought back memories of my own hospitalization, when I spent a month with a high fever and no diagnosis. I still remember that near-death moment. Even in that split second, the experience remains etched vividly in my mind.

Even now, I still want to learn more about clinical care, but at the age of 50, it feels too late, less enjoyable, and not quite aligned with my current situation. While taking some pre-nursing courses, I also began exploring computer-related courses online and still hope to keep learning new things. My dream of starting a biotech company inspired me to explore publishing ventures, try self-publishing, and eventually start a nonprofit with my younger daughter. She is actually the founder and guiding force behind the BunnyPals Foundation. BunnyPals started as a small club for kids who had bunnies, but now it has grown to include writing and craft clubs, as well as Korean language learning. I hope to help children nurture creativity, compassion, and environmental awareness through artistic expression, storytelling, and community engagement. I also dream of helping them become authors of their own creative works.

Part of me still dreams of returning to research or building a research-focused nonprofit or startup. I wait for that dream. 

Looking back, my life has been a journey of choices. Some I treasure, some I wonder about. For example, I once had the chance to pursue medical school or clinical psychology, but I didn’t. Do I regret it a little? Yes. But deep down, I know that even if I could go back, I might still choose this same path.

As an undergraduate in Korea, I never knew clinicians could also be researchers. I simply wanted to discover something new and contribute to patients’ well-being as a scientist. Also, I know if I chose a different path, I would have never researched. Now, though, I believe that for most people, education and lifestyle changes should come before medication.

To my juniors, including my daughters, I hope you’ll always find the resources you need for your career paths and that you’ll follow not just ambition but also your heart. May you always be wise enough to find balance between life, work, and money.

Discovering ‘Myself’ on the Unknown Road to Machu Picchu

Written by Michell Cho, in 2024

I finally took a long solo trip. It’s been a really long time since I’ve taken a long solo trip. It’s been 28 years since I went backpacking through Russia and Eastern Europe for four weeks in the summer of 1996. It was a time to look back on my life, which has been so busy running forward, and to reflect on what is truly important in my life. In 1996, when I was in my 20s, I traveled while intensely contemplating questions like —“Who am I?”, “What is the purpose of life?”, “How should a person live to live a meaningful life?”— about the cycle of human birth, aging, illness, and death, and joys and sorrows. Now this recent trip was a time to look back on the past 30 years of my life and make a new commitment to how I live more meaningfully in the next 30 years.

This June, my son graduated from college, and I wanted to treat myself to a vacation after working so hard. I wanted to go to a new place where I did not know anyone for a month or so, do whatever I wanted to do, and relax. While thinking about learning to surf during my vacation, I searched Google to find good surfing resorts in nearby South America and came across a city called Huanchaco in Peru. It was a beautiful small beach town famous for surfing, and it reminded me of a dream I had since my 20s of going to Machu Picchu in Peru, so I decided to make Machu Picchu my destination.

In early July, I arrived in Cusco, the ancient capital of the Inca civilization, and the five-day hike to Machu Picchu was a new challenge for me. I chose the difficult route of climbing Machu Picchu, instead of the convenient bus ride. The physical burden of climbing the steep mountain path was not easy because it was at high altitude. This trip was a journey that challenged the limits of my physical strength, with me struggling to catch my breath.

The first day of the hike was so hard that I thought about giving up, regretting why I even took on this challenge at the age of 50. When I arrived at the campsite at close to 7 pm after walking 22 km (14 miles) from dawn, I didn’t even want to eat dinner because of the pain from head to toe, and I was worried about how I would walk again the next day with this tired body. But strangely enough, when morning came, my body had recovered from a sound night’s sleep, and the pain was gone, and I felt a sense of accomplishment and confidence for having completed the hardest course of the 5-day itinerary.

At that moment, the thought suddenly crossed my mind that our lives are the same. We solve the difficult tasks that life throws at us one by one, and there may be days when we feel so hard that we want to give up, but if we live each day diligently, take on new challenges, and overcome difficulties, we gain a sense of accomplishment and confidence in life, and we find the meaning of life.

Life is a journey, and no one can avoid death. All living beings are born, grow, and mature, and when the time given to them ends, we all return to the embrace of the universe. The moment humans realize that the time given to us is not infinite, we begin to reflect on what is truly important in life.

We may have been living only in pursuit of material wealth and fame, forgetting the meaning of life and what is truly important to us. I looked back on the path I took while climbing the steep road of the mountain. The time of self-reflection in Peru, where I went into my own time and looked inside myself, was a valuable time that made my soul mature one step further. Confucius said that at the age of 50, one reaches a state of understanding the will of heaven. It is an age where one begins to accept life as it is, acknowledging one’s imperfections and embracing destiny. At this age, it’s ok to live authentically, just as I am.

Life is not a race, but a journey.

Hiking Machu Picchu has been on my bucket list for a long time. There are two hiking courses from Cusco to Machu Picchu, the capital of the Inca civilization: the Inca Trail and the Salkantay Trek. There is also a course that takes only two days by bus and train, but what I wanted to do was hike. The Inca Trail has a limited number of tourists per day, so I had to make a reservation at least 3 months in advance. This time, I decided to go on the Salkantay Trek, where I could enjoy more of the natural scenery. I booked a guided hiking tour with a company called Alpaca Tours and arrived in Cusco on July 2nd. I took a break and toured the city to get used to the highlands.

On July 4th, the first day of hiking, at 6 am, we started from the town of Soraypampa, located at 3900 meters above sea level, and climbed up and down to the 4200-meter Human Thai Lake for 2 hours, then walked up a steep trail to the Salkantay Pass, located at 4600 meters above sea level. It was a total course of 22 km (14 miles). The first day of this hike, with snow-covered icebergs in the background, was a day of challenging my physical strength due to low oxygen and steep mountain paths. As I climbed the mountain from dawn, I stopped every few minutes to catch my breath, and I felt like giving up, but I was determined to complete this challenge. Seeing me struggling, Americo, a tour guide, kept telling me, “It’s not a race. Go at your own pace.” Those words somehow encouraged and helped me to climb up one step at a time.

Just like mountain climbing, life is not a race but a journey. Everyone has their own path and journey. Don’t be discouraged or give up because you think you’re falling behind others. If there’s something you want to challenge yourself with, don’t be concerned about what others think or about your age, and try taking action. I remember a conversation with my friend Bill, who works in the same financial consulting field as me.  One day, a client named J, who was 60 years old, came to him with a slightly worried face and asked if it would be financially possible for her to go to law school. She had been saving up her money well and managing it wisely, and when he calculated the scenarios and told her that it would be possible, J’s face brightened and she said, “But my son was against the idea and said this.” , “Mom, you’ll be 63 when you finish law school. Why do you want to do it now?”, So J said. “Son, even if I don’t go to law school, in 3 years I will be 63 years old. I want to be 63 years old while doing what I have been dreaming and wanting to do.” If there is something you want to do now but you are hesitating because of your age or the others’ opinions, what about dreaming again and making a plan? Whether it is a hobby or a new career, take the leap.  When you challenge yourself with new things, overcome difficulties, and focus on today, you cultivate the garden of your body and mind, enriching your life.

About Michelle Cho, CFP, BFA, ChSNC

She graduated from UCSD with a degree in physics and studied high-energy physics at Cornell University for two years before changing her career. Now she runs a financial consulting firm called Echo Wealth Partners. She is a Certified Financial Planner, Behavioral Financial Advisor, and Chartered Special Needs Consultant and helps clients set financial goals based on their values and provides financial planning and overall investment management services. The goal of the company is to help clients improve their quality of life and live a rich and meaningful life through smart financial management and planning.

For the Korean Version

걱정 | Worries

김수영 씀, 03-18-2025 | Sooyoung Kim, Mar-18, 2025

with my morning coffee

 아침 커피를 들고
 거실에 앉았다
 
 아무 걱정 없이
 아침을 먹고 있는
 토끼를 본다.
 
 나의 머리는
 분주히
 온갖 주변 사람들 걱정을 시작 한다.
 
 멀리 있는 큰 애는 잘 있는지
 남편은 출근 길이 무사한지
 둘째는 학교에서 아무 일 없는지
 멀리 있는 부모님들도  편안한지..
 
 교회도 절도 안 다니는
 나의 걱정은
 기도로 마무리 된다.
 
 나의 기도는 거창하지 않다
 
 나의 기도는
 주변에 모든 사람들이
 그저 평범한 하루를
 무사히 보내라는
 그런 기도다

누가 뭐라해도
난 토끼장 안의 토끼가 좋다

I sit in the living room
 with my morning coffee 

I see a rabbit, that is eating breakfast
He does not have any worries.

My mind is busy to worry,
about all the people around me.

      Is my older child far away doing well?
      Is my husband safe on his way to work?
      Is my second child doing well at school?
      Is my parents far away comfortable?

I don't go to church or temple.
But my worries always end with my prayer.

My prayers are not grand.

My prayers
are just for everyone around me
to have a normal
and safe day.

No matter what anyone says,
I like the rabbit in the cage.

1996-11, 어둠속의 성

1996 쓰여진 11번째 시, a castle in the dark

11th poem written by Sooyoung Kim, 1996

저기 저기

어…저기..저 시커먼 곳은 어딜까

악..소름 끼쳐  

온통 어둠 뿐이네

아..저기 저기 성이 보여

아둠 속에 성이 있어

저 새는 무얼까

저 새들은 왜 저렇게

눈을 뜨자 그 성은 없어져 버렸네.

손을 대자 그 성은 흩어져 버렸어.

난

그 성을 찾아

헤맸네

하지만 찾을 수 없었어

이 곳엔 

어둠이라고는 눈곱만큼도 없었거든

난 그 어둠이 궁금했어

너무도 궁금했지

내가 모르는 그 곳이 

너무도 궁금해서

견딜 수 없었어

난 그곳이 어디있는지

그 곳이 어디 있는지

찾아 헤맸지

하지만 

난 눈을 떴고

이제야

난 알게 되었네

내가 그 곳에 

내 한 다리를 

디디고 서 있음을

Over there

uh…there… where is that black sight?

Oh…it’s creepy  

There’s only darkness

Ah… I see a castle over there.

There is a castle in the dark

What are those birds?

Why are those birds like that?

When I opened my eyes, the castle was gone.

As soon as I touched it, the castle fell apart.

I wandered to

find that castle

I wandered

But I couldn’t find it.

In this place 

There wasn’t even the slightest hint of darkness.

I was curious about that darkness

I was so curious

That place I don’t know 

I’m so curious

I couldn’t bear it

I don’t know where it is

Where is that place

I searched for it

but 

I opened my eyes

Now

I found out

I’m standing

my one leg on the darkness

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