Dire Pinnacle                                                     

By the bitter seasons’ whip, I was thrust
far into this Northern corner at last. 

On this high plain, even the sky ends out of exhaustion, 
and I stand upon white frost, sharp like a dagger.

With my tired knees, where shall I kneel!
There’s no room to retrieve for a single step.

Thus closing my eyes, let me think—
Winter must be a rainbow made with hard iron.

절 정

매운 계절의 채쪽에 갈겨
마침내 북방으로 휩쓸려오다

하늘도 그만 지쳐 끝난 고원
서리빨 칼날진 그 우에서다

어데다 무릎을 끓어야 하나
한발 재겨 디딜곳조차 없다

이러매 눈 감아 생각해 볼밖에
겨울은 강철로 된 무지갠가 보다