[57th Modern Korean Literature Translation Awards] Poetry Commendation Award: There Was a Fire

Written by An Hee-yeon Translated by Park Se-yeon There Was a Fire He figured the day had turned chill, and also felt a bit alone. Today, I'll light a fire, he thought. He laid dry sticks together and lit them. Fire, rise, fire— he hummed a song, he dreamed of a fire that would not hurt, not a fire that devours but the one that allows, not a fire that scorches but the one that allows. Even here, he said, there was a home, and people arrived one by one. Once the cold hands came out from their pockets, that's how stories began— palm lines crisscrossing, without our noticing. The sun and the moon tenderly exchanged goodbye, beyond the fence, the weeds were growing, a stray dog retrieved its soul, returning home, while not-yet-born me— the self that died inside, I lulled and fell asleep. The fire—extinguished long ago— but certain things did not cease. The fire hadn't hushed, not even a little. Fuss Covered head to toe in flour, I stepped into the square to bring my sorrow into view. Yesterday, I hid my umbrella in my bag and took the rain on, to proclaim: I do not...