It may be naturally inevitable that thoughts and anguish may get deeper as nights get longer in November. Life is tough. No one knows what makes for a desirable way of life. Taking care of young children require many hours of labor. It takes more than that to care about ourselves although we all are grown-ups. I came across this poem when I felt frustrated as if my hands were tied painfully tightly. Oh, I wish I would have discovered it earlier. The piece of poem is the perfect representation of Park No-hae, the author, or maybe his grandmother. Perhaps, it may be a human or the right answer that we seek for.
For some reason, I feel that we would have a more severely cold winter season when we were young. The poem provides us a window into the cold winter days that Park would suffer. Park’s grandmother would have kept the young grandson in her arms through the night in a room covered with thin ice. The grandson with a wise eye might have learned that it is people and their warmth that enable us to weather the coldest days of the year. The grandmother would repeat every night as if she sang a lullaby. “There are poor people out there who do not even have a drafty room. I hope that they will stay fine throughout this awful night. I wish that beggars, lepers and rabbits could survive a cold night.”
What would the young boy have done when his grandmother habitually murmured in worries? He might have shared her worries with a sad look on his face while thinking of a beggar crouching down beside a chimney. Feeling empathetic, he would have prayed for their survival while hoping the sun to come earlier. The poem gives us an understanding of how he turned into a poet from a labor activist. Some may discover a role model in his grandmother. I am reminded of what I would think of in the early days while wishing to return.