“This is Ko Un, a student of poetry.”
Whether it is a short interview or a long meeting, the discussions about his days as a Buddhist monk enlivens him.
“If I hadn’t met Buddhism, I wouldn’t be here today since I was lost at one time.” He met Zen Master Hyobong Kunsunim during the time when he was in mental turmoil, traumatized by the war. After the ordination he poured himself into practice and during the time he wandered about as a pilgrim, he was often called a “decent monk” because his eyes were so clear and bright. During the Purification Movement in the 1960s, he guarded his temple despite all kinds of abuse and violence. In recognition of his contribution, he was recommended as the abbot of Haeinsa Temple. However, the Buddhist Council determined that he was too young for the position since he was only in his twenties, so instead they appointed him as a deputy abbot.
Ko Un has lived his life without any attachment or hindrance: when he was called by his Buddhist name “Ilcho,” he dedicated himself to belief and practice or when he decided to return to the secular world and become a freedom fighter against the dictatorship; or when he became a world famous poet. Believing that a poet shouldn’t stop singing about the ever changing world, he has never stopped or settled into any position or place.
 In the early 1980s before Jogyesa Temple and Myongdong Cathedral became known as the Mecca of protests, the epicenter of dissent against the military dictatorship was the Christian Center located in Chongno-5ga. Whenever we were on our way up to the conference room, we used to wonder when our Buddhists would have a nice building that required an elevator. The hall was packed with “comrades” who had put their religious differences aside to gather together. Standing on tiptoe I was able to witness Ko Un unite themes of“progressiveness” and “creativity” for the cause of Korean people. I was so proud to see the poet sitting abreast with Catholic priests and Protestant reverends on the podium.
Hasn’t someone said, “Prose can depict the evenings and the nights, but poetry is needed to sing the dawn”? No wonder Ko Un was there where the early morning was sung.
Our aching young hearts often led to tears when he delivered his political views, read his poetry, and shouted out slogans in his indomitable ringing voice.
 n the early days of Buddhist Broadcasting System(BBS) in 1990, when I wrote for a program called Illuminating Ignorance, I featured the poet Ko Un. We wanted to reflect on his wisdom, attained from his private contemplations and life experiences. Despite the long commute from Ansong to Seoul that he had to endure for the six-month commitment, he never complained and he always began the show with the same greeting: “Good afternoon! This is Ko Un, a student of poetry.”
I still remember his low, earnest voice. We learned from his actions that studying is for life, and that the more you learn the more modest you should become.
Realizing his Old Dream of Becoming a Visual Artist
It was around the time when the leaves turned into glorious fall colors that I headed to Seoul National University. Ko Un was a visiting professor at the Faculty of Liberal Education there. He had started teaching an elective course called “Our Inside and Outside” as a part of Gwanak Omnibus Lecture Series. I was told that his first words at the beginning of his lecture were, “Let’s have fun!” In the second year he now teaches “Promoting sensitivity and imaginativeness which inspires humans, things, and the time we live in.” His lecture room was filled with over 180 students who had come to listen to his discussions concerning humanity.
“It’s been fifty years since my debut as a poet. This is the 100th year since the birth of Korean modern poetry. I value the fact that I am part of one half of Korea’s modern poetry history. It has been a time of self-reflection on my literature.
I am humbled by the excessive attention I am receiving.” “Event Committee for Ko Un’s 50 Years in Literature” was formed. In Chung-Ang University, “Reading Ko Un’s Literature of 50 Years” was organized to highlight his accomplishments. A commemorative book Empty Space was published. At Korea Foundation, in order to honor Ko Un’s 50 years in literature, “Ko Un’s Poetry Reading by Foreign Diplomats” was held. The foreign ambassadors recited 2-3 pieces of Ko Un’s work in their own languages. On December 2, another celebration event called “When I First Encountered Poetry - Fifty Years of My Life” was planned. Of all of his 50th anniversary events, one event in particular that stood out was an exhibition titled “Realization of the Old Dream.”
 Ko Un wanted to become an artist when he was a boy. When he first met Vincent van Gogh on his uncle’s bookshelf, he put up a note on the wall which read, “It’s nothing unless you become like Van Gogh.”However, when the Korean War erupted, the boy had to give up his painting and instead become a poet wandering around the ruins.
He had been asked by other artists to write painting reviews for them. He has written a review for Lee Jung-seop and even has drawn some illustrations in Chinese ink. But this oil painting work was the first time in fifty-eight years since his old school art class days.
More Intensely for the Remaining Days
“Maybe I will give painting a try,” he once said nonchalantly during one of his drinking sessions but it led to this exhibition called “Painting of Verbs.” When he immersed himself into painting over a fifteen-day period, he said, “The brush moved by itself while I forgot myself.” He turned out 35 pieces of paintings and 19 pieces of calligraphy while he was in a trance. Thus, his dream finally came to realization a half century later.
He got married in old age, and started drinking coffee in old age. “For some reason, I start everything later than others,” said he. Having his first art exhibition in his sixties follows this pattern. “I am going to get into oil painting in earnest from now on. The latter part of this life means the beginning part of another life. My pictures will be recorded as a part of my life. I refuse to be restricted by anything.”
Ko Un goes to bed around eleven or twelve. He always gets up at six.
He writes during the day and studies at night.
“I don’t have the past but I have the future. I am not interested in what I have done because I have many things to do in the future. The reason I can’t die tomorrow is because I have so much work to do. All the projects that haven’t yet been done by me are waiting in a long line. ‘When are you going to write about me?’ ‘When will you read me?’ I face the remaining days with fiercer resolve.”
When the interview was over I asked this poet with a fedora hat, who had said he would continue to run and dream like a wild animal with diamond-like aspiration: “Who are you?” He answered with laughter.
“Sometimes I am one, sometimes three, and other times a thousand. Ko Un...He is nothing but a rumor.” His smile at age sixty-five looked clear and bright.
Photography by Kim Min
From the December 2008 Issue of Bulgyo Munhwa, the Monthly Journal of Buddhist Culture
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