STORY 43 · PART IV · What Is Left After Taking Away, One by One
Only the Wind I Could Not Paint
Wind · 1991
Text by Byun Joung Hoon
The tree
was already leaning.
A horse
stood
beneath it.
A little way off
a person
was bent low.
I
painted the tree.
I tilted
the trunk a little.
I painted the horse.
Its mane
was swept to one side.
The person's back too
was low.
Only the wind
I could not paint.
Brush in hand,
I waited for the wind.
Before the tip of the brush,
my sleeve
stirred first.
The horse's mane
still
lay to one side.
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