Deep within this mountain fastness,
Minified by nature's vastness,
Hermit-wise a lodge I'll build.
Clouds shall form the frescoed ceiling,
Heaven's blue depths but half revealing;
Sunbeam raftered, starlight filled.
In this lakelet deep I'll fetter
Yon fair moon. Oh, who could better
Nature's self incarcerate ?
Though, for ransom, worlds be offered,
I will scorn the riches proffered,
Keep her still and laugh at fate.
And when Autumn's hand shall scatter
Leaves upon my floor, what matter,
Since I have the wind for broom ?
Cleaning house mere play I'll reckon,
Only to the storm-sprites beckon.
With their floods they'll cleanse each room.
From this it would seem that the Koreans cannot be charged with a lack of imagination but rather with an exuberance of it. The following few lines to a mountain brook show that in his appreciation of nature the Korean is not far behind the more polished poet of the West.
O cloud-born rivulet, that down this mountain slope
Dost thread thy devious way, fret not thyself because
Obstructions bar thy path, nor say "I may not be."
The rock that buffets thee to-day shall melt away
Before thy constancy. Thou'rt mightier than man;
For though, by human craft, athwart thy humble course
Mountains be piled, Time shall be with thee, and ye twain
Shall overtop them all. Though thou be curbed and bound,
Divided, used, aye, soiled, a thousand li shall seem,
In retrospect, triumphal progress. Dost thou now,
Like trembling hare, peep forth from out yon covert's shade?
Fear not, but know that ere days shall give birth to months,
Thy voice shall mingle with the chorus of the sea.
I will add but a single illustration of the poetic element in Korean folk-lore. It is the legend of the casting of the great bell that hangs in the centre of Seoul.
