What has happened that you have become like this?
How has this happened?
You are well at the age of a beautifully blooming youth,
But what was happened that you are so malnutrition,
Your height like that of a dwarf.
And your face sallow and wan with only the streaked imprints of tears.
My child, how have you become like this?
A most pathetic beggar, your clothes are all torn so that you cannot even hide your skin,
Looking so pitiful with your famished stomach stuck to your back,
Who has beaten you so terribly that you whole body is imprinted with such bloody bruises?
My beloved daughter, New York
My beloved daughter, New York
Who has made you like this?
Who has made you this you way?
Who has stolen and eaten all the nourishing food sent to you every month, leaving you so impoverished like this?
Who has taken all your pretty clothes sent to you every season, leaving you as the most pathetic beggar like this?
How is it that your precious body--which cannot be traded for gold, jade or the whole universe--has been so beaten and bruised like this?
My poor, poor daughter, New York,
My wretched, wretched daughter New York.
Now, I will not leave you alone,
Now, I will not leave you so far away,
Now, I will not ever let you go from my bosom.
My golden daughter, New York,
My jade-like daughter, New York,
Now, be relieved and rest in my bosom,
Now, happily eat and run,
Now, please just grow on steadily, beautifully and diligently.
Do not argue among your brethren and love one another as you continue to grow on beautifully.
--1990. 10. 29 Night in New York--
