Look at the Tree

Kim Yong-taek was born the son of a farmer in Jangsan, a small village along the Seomjin River. He spent his entire life there as a primary school teacher, growing old alongside the land. Looking out at the sunlit river and watching the leaves flutter in the sunlight, he wrote his poems. Trees were an ever-present part of Kim Yong-taek’s life. The flowing river and the green woods were the very birthplace of his poetry.

Reading his collection of poems, Tree, led me to reflect on my long-forgotten self. Drawn from the wind, the stars, the winter, and the songs of birds, his quiet poems reached me like the fresh, clear sound of a natural spring. Reading them felt as though my footsteps were being guided back to a long-lost hometown path.

As a boy, the poet walked a four-kilometer path along the river to attend primary school. Parting his way through silver grass, crossing stepping-stones whose origins no one knew—it was a demanding journey for the legs of a seven-year-old. Yet, while basking in the warm sunshine and feeling the brushing wind, his sensitivity and artistic intuition grew within this embrace of nature. He walked this path for six years. After graduating from high school, he became a primary school teacher and walked it for another thirty-one years.

While many poets flocked to the cities and to Seoul, he remained in a secluded village, gazing at flowers and trees, singing of love, and building his own artistic world. “If you take dictation from nature, it becomes a happy life, a poem, and art.” These were his words.

“Though the river flows, The sun crosses the river.

Though the front mountain is high, The sunlight passes over it.

On that front mountain across the river, beyond where the sun has set,

Is the flower blooming now a flower that is opening, Or a flower that is falling?

O deep red wild peach blossoms on the mountain slope,

My wife awakens from her long sleep and goes to the deserted, darkening river,

Going to catch the darkening mountain—she goes all alone.”

When the poet turned twenty-seven, he planted a zelkova tree at the entrance of the village. Before anyone knew it, that tree grew into a magnificent, thick-trunked giant, standing tall like a traditional guardian totem, silently watching over the village through all four seasons. Though impoverished, the entire village feels prosperous because of it. The teacher always taught his children to look at the trees. A tree is a masterpiece in itself; it gives people a sense of peace. It may seem like the same tree every time, yet it looks different every single time you view it—even more so when it rains, when it snows, and when the wind blows. The same is true for the rivers, the mountains, and the waters.

The children of the Jangsan valley ridge, who had a teacher who cried out, "Look at the tree," were truly fortunate. One day, those children began to write poetry.

A second-grader looked at a mouse and wrote: "It steals food bit by bit. Then it eats rat poison and dies." Though only a few short lines, the child's keen observation and humor come alive. Another child, gazing at the dew caught in a spiderweb, asks: "If I listen quietly, will I hear music?" To adults, the world is merely a tangled spiderweb, but to a child, it becomes a sheet of music flowing with melody. And another child imagines that a flower catches a butterfly for them. In children’s poetry, imagination precedes logic, and within that imagination, the world becomes a warmer place.

Where are those children now, and what are they doing? Have they become doctors, scientists, or politicians? Or perhaps they have become ordinary office workers, now looking after their own grandchildren. What is certain, however, is that they were once children who wrote poetry.

Teacher Kim Yong-taek did not simply teach children how to write poetry; he nurtured their eyes to see the world beautifully. Just as Bang Jeong-hwan loved children, he became a tender friend to them, planting the seeds of poetry in their hearts. Those seeds would become sensitivity, warm hearts, and the power to understand others throughout the century-long lives those children will live. That is why the life of this rural primary school teacher, dedicated entirely to his pupils, is truly beautiful and noble.