
Well, that’s that. In the middle of singing an endless song
in the middle of taking an endless nap
there were moments I opened my eyes.
(from “The Goodbye Ability”)
Human Time, is the first selection of poems by Korean poet Kim Haengsook’s to be translated and published in the United States. As with previous releases in the Black Ocean’s Moon Country Korean Poetry Series, this book is a fantastic collection of contemporary poems that offer brief, deep glimpses into the independence and relationships of everyday life.
Human Time contains sixty poems and is divided into four untitled sections, each without clearly-marked themes. Each section reads like a miniature view into the poet’s world and breaks up the poetry into readable chunks; the book, while not huge, contains poems that are filled with dense imagery and lyrical flourishes.
Moonlight is a good light to softly kneel in. Moonlight is a good light to love in. And moonlight is a good light to die in.
(from “Dear Angel”)
The poems range from just a few lines to a few pages in length, demonstrating an exquisite diversity to the poet’s presentation of ideas. Often the works contain enigmatic statements that resound through repetition of specific words. These phrases and interludes supplement or counter the readable narrative found in the rest of the work.
Although Human Time is not a bilingual release, the book remains a substantial glimpse into the examination of language and the process of translation from Korean into English is centered. The translations bring forward a pleasant, approachable English verse that reflects the surreal, linguistic nature of Korean poetics while also maintaining a degree of ordinariness.
The kiss is soft.
A water drop softly abandons its leaf, drops bigger.
Set off the scent of the forest.
Two necks put on each other’s faces.
My face sprouts from your neck.
(from “Kiss in the Forest”)
What’s more, this is not merely a book of translated contemporary poetry, but an exquisite translation project brought forward by six different translators: Léo-Thomas Brylowski, Hannah Quinn Hertzog, Susan K, Jiyoon Lee , Joanne Park, Soeun Seo, and Soohyun Yang. While each translator is not ascribed to individual poetry, their collective voices lead to the fantastic end result: a book that is uniquely its own version of Kim’s poetry and not merely a translation that sounds like a singular English language poet.
Moon Country series editor Jake Levine introduces the book with a short essay on the text and the process of this supergroup of translation. He graciously includes comments on Kim’s writing and poetics, including a thorough look at the provocative literary device “precise ambiguity,” which Levine defines as a literary device “function[ing] not through direct contrast, but rather by giving language to the in-between.”
How do I enter a seed again, be born again?
How do I take root elsewhere? As roots don’t know their flowers,
flowers don’t know their roots. They’re far apart, like the distance
starlight travels between stars.
(from “Dream Without Subject”)
This wrestling with language, blending general and specific, opens portals upon portals of discovery for the reader, offering pleasant attempts at an approachable poetics which moves the poet to the same level as the reader (and vice versa). It is warm, yet ultimately tricky poetry to read, and astoundingly, the collaborative translation effort provides a consistent emphasis on presenting (or preserving) precise ambiguity where it shows up in most of the book’s poems. Here we have a fantastic introduction to an impression of Kim’s writing to the English language world. Let it be the first of many.

Greg Bem lived in Seattle for 13 years before moving to Spokane, where he has resided since 2023. He is a community college librarian and union organizer, small press publisher, poet and performer, and book reviewer, among other things. His reviews are linked on his website, and can be found published here in International Examiner as well as in Rain Taxi, North of Oxford, Exacting Clam, and Another Chicago Magazine.


















