Classic Poem

Port of Call

I reached the harbor on foot.
The wind blew relentlessly
from the cold country,
rocking the houses on the sea front:
a lengthy snowfall seemed in store;
lights were shining lower and lower.
In my pocket I crumpled
the neat picture on the bank note,
and I stubbed out a half-burned cigarette
as I'd stub out a shadow.
I went down to the boats
with an easy mind.
The dark hulls in their moorings
lifted their heads
and looked into the harbor.
Skybirds were following
a few snowflakes
in the dark sky.EnglishHwang Tonggyu