the most beautiful encounters are those with handkerchiefs.

saturday afternoon. I opted to skip the group outing this week and instead get some actual rest and, to be honest, a little alone time. I'm lucky that my life here is so full and exciting, but amidst all the running from place to place, from school to friends (and bar to bar) its sometimes difficult to hear myself think.

So, i took this weekend off. I spent today sleeping absurdly late, cleaning, snacking, thinking and generally doing nothing in particular. Obviously, it was glorious. I even went to the gym and ran for like an hour, which is not something I normally do.

I also took the chance to indulge my growing K-drama addiction. (Yes, ok, I may be slowly turning into one of my middle-school students. I don't care. I really, genuinely, unironically enjoy the antics of my admittedly poorly written and sometimes questionably acted dramas. what of it?)
One of the most famous dramas is called Boys Before Flowers (꽃보다 남자 - Kotboda Namja) and its up at mysoju with english subtitles for your viewing pleasure.

Anyway all this rambling was to say that episode 22 came out of nowhere with some unexpected poetry. Usually, I am not a poetry person. I am not against it, per se. I just don't usually get it. It's sort of like math. I understand the general idea and the basic components, but I lack the level of understanding that would really let me grasp the beauty and the essence of the thing.

But, occasionally, a poem will speak so clearly that my poor powers of interpretation no longer matter. This poem really moved me, and I keep wondering who wrote it and where it came from:

나는 당신에게 말하고 싶었지요.
당신을 사랑한다고.
그렇게 외치고 싶었지요.
그게 다예요

(I wanted to tell you, that I love you. I wanted to shout it aloud. That’s all.)

There's another really good one in this episode. But then, I've always had a fondness for handkerchiefs.

The most unfortunate encounters are like those with fish bones.
The longer the encounter, the more the fishy smell sticks with you.

The encounters to be most careful with
are with an open bloom, because
while it’s open it brings cheers of joy, but
as it wilts, it gets thrown away.

The most beautiful encounters are like those with handkerchiefs.
They wipe away your sweat when you are tired, and your tears when you are sad.

While trying to find the origin of this poem (via google), i stumbled upon another poem. Moonlight Sonata, by Yiannis Ritsos. Its long, but its beautful. Here's an excerpt from the beginning:

Let me come with you. What a moon there is tonight!
The moon is kind – it won’t show
that my hair turned white. The moon
will turn my hair to gold again. You wouldn’t understand.
Let me come with you.

When there’s a moon the shadows in the house grow larger,
invisible hands draw the curtains,
a ghostly finger writes forgotten words in the dust
on the piano – I don’t want to hear them. Hush.

Let me come with you
a little farther down, as far as the brickyard wall,
to the point where the road turns and the city appears
concrete and airy, whitewashed with moonlight,
so indifferent and insubstantial
so positive, like metaphysics,
that finally you can believe you exist and do not exist,
that you never existed, that time with its destruction never existed.
Let me come with you.

aish. sigh. look at me, swooning over poetry and televised romance. maybe I'm a big ol' sap after all. or maybe its just spring.

Oh, if you are wondering how I got from Boys Before Flowers to Moonlight Sonata, its thanks to this line, spoken by the woman in the poem:

A harmless idiosyncrasy, handkerchiefs.

Alright, anyway, it seems its time for me to go back out in the world and be social. Wish me luck. ^^