Entry 16: 

1) 

Original: 동, 동, 동대문을 열어라,

남, 남, 남대문을 열어라,

12시가 되면은

문을 닫는다.

Romanization/Transliteration: 

Dong, dong, dong-dae-mon-eul yul-uh-lah

Nam, nam, nam-dae-moon-eul yul-uh-rah

12 shi-ga dwae-myun-eun

Moon-eul dad-neun-da

Full Translation: 

Open the east, east, east great gate. 

Open the south, south, south great gate. 

When the clock strikes 12

The gates are closed. 

2) My Korean grandmother shared this song with me because it was associated with a game she played in elementary school. She said it was one of the things she looked forward to most everyday because it gave her a break to have fun in between discipline and learning. 

3) This performance was actually done by my grandmother and mother together. My grandmother sang the lyrics, and my mother, being a pianist, improvised an accompaniment along with the melody.

4) This song is based off of a Korean children’s game in which two people form the “Dongdaemun gates” by making an arch with their arms while they sing the song. People keep circling through the gate until the song ends – the last two people who fail to make it through become the new “gate.” Both the East and South gates were major protectors of Seoul’s Royal Palace during the Joseon Dynasty. This song has its charm in that the idea of historical architecture which is hundreds of years old has been preserved and transformed into a game that is still played to this day. Folklore has the idea of creating great contrast – the gates were seen as a sacred protector that preserved Seoul during many grave invasions, but they are now referred to in a highly jovial context. 

1) 

Original: 

날 부르는 바람이 왜 이렇게 차가운 걸까?

차가운데 나에게 희망을 주는 것이다

날 부르는 바람이 날 어디로 인도하는 걸까?

이 차가움을 견디고 따라 갈 것이다

Romanization/Transliteration: 

Nal boo-reuh-neun ba-ram-ee wae ee-ruh-kae cha-ga-oon-gul-kka?

cha-ga-oon-dae na-ae-gae hee-mang-eul joo-neun-guh-shee-dah.

nal boo-reun-neun ba-ram-ee nal uh-di-loh indoh-ha-neun gul-kka?

ee cha-ga-oom-eul gyun-di-go dda-rah gal-guh-shee-dah.

Full Translation: 

Oh wind who’s calling me, why are you so cold? 

Despite the cold, you also give me hope.

Oh wind who’s calling me, where are you leading me?

I will endure the chill of your breeze, and follow you. 

2) My Korean grandmother introduced this folk song, called “cold wind,” to me because it was a song that she learned during middle school, but came to have great meaning to her after she immigrated to America in her late 20s. She said her decision to come to America made her scared, but she was willing to endure this fear for the possibility of a future as a nurse in the US. 

3) This performance was actually done by my grandmother and mother together. My grandmother sang the lyrics, and my mother, being a pianist, improvised an accompaniment along with the melody. It was a set of four Korean folk songs that they performed in front of me and the rest of our family. 

4) I connect this folk song to the Korean concept of ‘Han.’ Han is an emotion that connotes an accumulation of Koreans’ suffering over time. It is a very dynamic emotion that has a fierce color that could almost signal the energy and birth of new possibilities. I think the song my grandma sang connects to this concept because although it invokes the necessity of suffering along a certain road, it also signals that there should be hope that despite this suffering a worthwhile outcome could arise. 

1) 

Original: 

빛나는 그대를 보면 볼수록 태양이 어두워진다

청국의 가장 아름다운 천사들도 평범해 보여지게 하는 그대가 

어디에서 온 걸까? 

다른 세계 – 가능

다른 세월 – 가능

이 세계 – 확실히 불가능

우리의 출신이 세상 차이니 낯선데 뭔가 인연인 듯이 익숙하다

Romanization / Transliteration: 

Bit-na-neun geu-dae-reul bo-myun bol-soo-rok tae-yang-ee eoh-doo-wuh-jin-da

chung-kook-eh ga-jang ah-reum-da-oon chun-sah-deul-do pyung-bum-hae bo-yuh-ji-gae ha-neun geu-dae ga eoh-di-ae-suh on-gul-kka?

da-reun seh-gye – ga-neung

da-reun seh-woul – ga-neung

Ee-seh-gye – hawk-shil-hee bool-ga-neung

Oo-ree-eh chool-sheen-ee sae-sang cha-i-ni nat-sun-dae mwon-ga in-yun-in deu-si eek-sook-ha-da

Full Translation: 

The more I see you shine, the darker the sun gets. 

Where did you, who can make even heaven’s most beautiful angels appear ordinary, come from? 

A different world is possible

A different time is possible

But you being from the same world is without a doubt impossible

Since our origins are so different, you seem strange, but something, as if it’s fate, is familiar

2) My Korean grandmother introduced this folk song, called “인연의 나타남” (fate’s appearance) to me because it was a song that she learned during highschool, and it came to have great meaning for her when she met my grandfather. She said the song is about a very idealistic love, and she told me that she hopes people don’t yet give up on the idea that such a love could possibly exist. 

3) This performance was actually done by my grandmother and mother together. My grandmother sang the lyrics, and my mother, being a pianist, improvised an accompaniment along with the melody. It was a set of four Korean folk songs that they performed in front of me and the rest of our family. 

4) This song is centered around the idea of two lovers who are of completely different backgrounds. The subject of the folk song is a person who appears almost perfect, so perfect that assuming a relationship with that person seems near impossible. However, the concept of fate, Inyun, in Korean plays a big role in the song’s theme. It suggests that no matter how infeasible this relationship seems, if fate wills its manifestation then it will come to be. This song also leads me to compare Inyun with the concept of Akyun, which depicts a relationship that is also subject to fate, but is instead bound to be ill-fated. Comparing these two concepts, it becomes clear that Korean tradition attributes both miracles and tragedies to the idea of fate.