Rainbow Over Jeju Island

I looked toward Mount Halla, a mysterious peak. It seemed as though the spirits of all living beings in the universe had gathered to form it. Holding a quiet dialogue with the heavens, this mountain, like a great loving mother, seemed to embrace all the immense joys of life, as well as the anguished cries that have slipped through mouths shut tightly in grief.

This is surely an island for poets but also a place where politicians and businessmen should come to forget concerns of immediate profit and loss and converse about peace. Here they could calmly discuss and ponder the nature and meaning of true happiness. Here they could rediscover the poet within and amicably and openly share fresh visions of the future.

This is a most fitting place for such discussions because this island has suffered most tragically at the hands of politicians and under repeated economic exploitation. It is an island utterly tired of human conflict. …

Mount Halla must surely have known the hearts of these people. As if in reply, I can almost hear the mountain saying: “I understand! I know all your struggles, for you are all my precious children!” Because of their dire circumstances, the people of the island lived by helping one another. …

It is said that one should never raise one’s voice or shout while on Mount Halla because doing so will cause these sorrows to manifest as dense, drifting fog.