Hoooook

 

 

The last twenty-three years, the wind has raised eighty percent of me.
The more I see the world, the more shameful it is.
Some read a sinner in my eyes;
others read an imbecile on my lips.
But I will regret nothing.

Even on the morning that rises brilliantly,
the dew of poetry dangling upon my forehead
is always mixed with a few drops of blood.
Through light and shade, I have come this far,
panting like a sick dog, tongue lolling.

-Seo Jung-ju

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Wangjie Li

 

 

“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.”
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.
“You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”

His DeviantArt site

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