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After you’ve gone don’t go, don’t
After you’ve come don’t come, don’t

 

When you depart, they close your eyes, put your hands together
    and cry don’t go, don’t go
But when you say open the door, open the door, they say don’t
      come, don’t come

 

They glue a paper doll onto a bamboo stick and say don’t come,
      don’t come
They throw your clothes into the fire and say don’t come, don’t
        come

 

That’s why you’re footless
wingless

 

yet all you do is fly
unable to land


You’re visible even when you hide
You know everything even without a brain


You feel so cold
even without a body


That’s why this morning the nightgown hiding under the bed
is sobbing quietly to itself


Water collects in your coffin
You’ve already left the coffin


Your head’s imprint on the moon pillow
Your body’s imprint on the cloud blanket


So after you’ve gone don’t go, don’t
So after you’ve come don’t come, don’t

After You’re Gone / Day Six

Don Mee Choi, translation from
the Korean written by Kim Hyesoon

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translated from the Ukrainian written by
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