김 경주 / 폭설, 민박, 편지 1.2

 

 

 

 

 

Piotr Krzaczkowski  (Poland)

 

 

 

 Snow

 

 

 

 

Sniezka 

 

 

 

 

Dom Slaski 

 

 

 

 

Winter Time

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                      폭설, 민박, 편지 1

 

  

                                                                                                                      주전자 속엔 파도소리들이 끓고 있었다
                                                                                                                      인편이 잘린 외딴 바닷가 민박집, 
                                                                                                                      목단이불을 다리에 둘둘 말고 편지를 썼다 
                                                                                                                      들창사이로 폭설은 내리고 
                                                                                                                      등대의 먼 불빛들이 방안에 엎질러지곤 했다
                                                                                                                      나는 그럴 때마다 푸른 멀미를 종이 위에 내려놓았다 
                                                                                                                      바다에 오래 소식 띄우지 못한 귀먹은 배들이 
                                                                                                                      먼 곳의 물소리들을 만지고 있었다
                                                                                                                      위독한 사생활들이 편지지의 옆구리에서 
                                                                                                                      폭설처럼 쌓여갔다 심해 속을 건너오는 
                                                                                                                      물고기 떼의 눈들이 꽁꽁 얼고 있구나 생각했다 
                                                                                                                      쓰다만 편지지로 소금바람이 하얗게 쌓여 가는 밤 
                                                                                                                      빈 술병들처럼 차례로 그리움이 쓰러지면
                                                                                                                      혼자서 폐선을 끽끽 흔들다가 돌아왔다 
                                                                                                                      외로웠으므로 쓸쓸한 편지 몇 통 더 태웠다
                                                                                                                      바다는 화덕처럼 눈발에 다시 푹푹 끓기 시작하고 
                                                                                                                      방안에 앉아 더운 수돗물에 
                                                                                                                      손을 담그고 있으면 
                                                                                                                      몸은 피 속에서 눈물을 조용히 번식시켰다
                                                                                                                      이런 것이 아니었다 생각할수록 
                                                                                                                      떼죽음 당하는 내면들, 불면은 
                                                                                                                      나 아닌 곳에 가서 쌓이는 가혹한 삶의 은유인가
                                                                                                                      눈발은 마을의 불빛마저 하나씩 덮어 가는데 
                                                                                                                      사랑한다 사랑한다 그 혹성같은 낱말들을
                                                                                                                      편지지에 별처럼 새겨 넣곤 하였다

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                      폭설, 민박, 편지 2

 

 

                                                                                                                      낡은 목선들이 제 무게를
                                                                                                                      바람에 놓아주며 흔들리고 있다
                                                                                                                      벽지까지 파도냄새가 벤 민박집
                                                                                                                      마을의 불빛들은 바람에도 쉽게 부서져
                                                                                                                      저마다 얼어서 반짝인다
                                                                                                                      창문이 흔들리기 시작하면
                                                                                                                      나는 연필심이 뜨거워지도록
                                                                                                                      편지지에 바다소리를 받아 적는다
                                                                                                                      어쩌다 편지지 귀퉁이에 조금씩 풀어 넣은 그림들은
                                                                                                                      모두 내가 꿈꾼 푸른 죄는 아니었는지
                                                                                                                      새 ·나무· 별· 그리고 눈
                                                                                                                      사람이 누구하고도 할 수 없는 약속 같은 
                                                                                                                      그러한 것들을 한 몸에 품고 잠드는
                                                                                                                      머언 섬 속의 어둠은
                                                                                                                      밤늦도록 눈 안에 떠있는데
                                                                                                                      어느 별들이 물이 되어 내 눈에 고이는 것인가

 

                                                                                                                      바람이 불면 바다는 가까운 곳의 숲 소리를 끌어안고
                                                                                                                      가라앉았다 떠올랐다 그러나
                                                                                                                      나무의 속을 열고 나온 그늘은 얼지 않고
                                                                                                                      바다의 높이까지 출렁인다
                                                                                                                      비로소 스스로의 깊이까지 들어가
                                                                                                                      어두운 속을 헤쳐 제 속을 뒤집는 바다,
                                                                                                                      누구에게나 폭설 같은 눈동자는 있어
                                                                                                                      나의 죽음은 심장 가장 가까운 곳에서
                                                                                                                      그 눈동자를 잃는 것일 테지
                                                                                                                      가장 먼 곳에 있는 자 가장 가까운 곳에서 아프고
                                                                                                                      눈 안을 떠다니던 눈동자들,
                                                                                                                      오래 그대의 눈 속을 헤매일 때 사랑이다
                                                                                                                      뜨거운 밥물처럼 수평선이 끓는가
                                                                                                                      칼날이 연필 속에서 벗겨내는 목재의 물결 물결

 

                                                                                                                      숲을 털고 온 차디찬 종소리들이
                                                                                                                      눈 안에서 떨고 있다
                                                                                                                      죽기 전 단 한번이라도 내 심장을 볼 수 있을까
                                                                                                                      사람은 누구나 자신의 심장을 상상 만하다가
                                                                                                                      죽는다는 사실을 나는 안다
                                                                                                                      언젠간 세상을 향한 내 푸른 적의에도
                                                                                                                      그처럼 낯선 비유가 찾아오리라는 것
                                                                                                                      폭설을 끊고 숲으로 들어가
                                                                                                                      하늘의 일부분이었던 눈들을 주워 먹다보면
                                                                                                                      황홀하게 얻어맞는 기분이란 걸 아느냐
                                                                                                                      해변에 세워둔 의하자나 눈발에 푹푹 묻혀가는 지금
                                                                                                                      바라보면 하늘을 적시는 갈매기
                                                                                                                      그 푸른 눈동자가 바다에 비쳐 온통 타고 있다는 것을

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

           

 

Qntal - Winter