*신지혜 시인의 추천 [미국현대시]-송상욱 시지.25호
by C. K. Williams
The first morning of Three Mile Island: those first disquieting, uncertain,
All morning a crew of workmen have been tearing the old decrepit roof
off our building,
and all morning, trying to distract myself, I've been wandering out to
as they hack away the leaden layers of asbestos paper and disassemble
the disintegrating drains.
After half a night of listening to the news, wondering how to know a
hundred miles downwind
if and when to make a run for it and where, then a coming bolt awake
when the roofers we've been waiting for since winter sent their ladders
shrieking up our wall,
we still know less than nothing: the utility company continues making
little of the accident,
the slick federal spokesmen still have their evasions in some semblance
Surely we suspect now we're being lied to, but in the meantime, there
are the roofers,
setting winch-frames, sledging rounds of tar apart, and there I am, on
the curb across, gawking.
I never realized what brutal work it is, how matter-of-factly and harrow-
The ladders flex and quiver, things skid from the edge, the materials are
bulky and recalcitrant.
When the rusty, antique nails are levered out, their heads pull off; the
Even the battered little furnace, roaring along as patient as a donkey,
chokes and clogs,
a dense, malignant smoke shoots up, and someone has to fiddle with a
cock, then hammer it,
before the gush and stench will deintensify, the dark, Dantean broth
In its crucible, the stuff looks bland, like licorice, spill it, though, on
your boots or coveralls,
it sears, and everything is permeated with it, the furnace gunked with
burst and half-burst bubbles,
the men themselves so completely slashed and mucked they seem almost
from another realm, like trolls.
When they take their break, they leave their brooms standing at attention
in the asphalt pails,
work gloves clinging like Br'er Rabbit to the bitten shafts, and they slouch
along the precipitous lip,
the enormous sky behind them, the heavy noontime air alive with shim-
mers and mirages.
Sometime in the afternoon I had to go inside: the advent of our vigil was
However much we didn't want to, however little we would do about it,
we were going to perish of all this, if not now, then soon, if not soon,
Someday, some final generation, hysterically aswarm beneath an at-
mosphere as unrelenting as rock,
would rue us all, anathematize our earthly comforts, curse our surfeits
I think I know, though I might rather not, why my roofers stay so clear
to me and why the rest,
the terror of that time, the reflexive disbelief and distancing, all we should
hold on to, dims so.
I remember the president in his absurd protective booties, looking
absolutely unafraid, the fool.
I remember a woman on the front page glaring across the misty Sus-
quehanna at those looming stacks.
But, more vividly, the men, silvered with glitter from the shingles, cling-
ing like starlings beneath the eaves.
Even the leftover carats of tar in the gutter, so black they seemed to suck
the light out of the air.
By nightfall kids had come across them: every sidewalk on the block was
scribbled with obscenities and hearts.
*C.K. 윌리엄스 약력
C.K.윌리엄스(Charles Kenneth Williams)는1936년 뉴저지주 뉴왁에서 출생했다. 펜실베니아 대학에서 수학했으며 현재 프린스턴 대학 창작프로그램에서 학생들을 가르치고 있다. 그는 2001년 시집 [repair]로 퓰리처상을 수상했으며 시집으로 [Lies] [Women of Trachis, by Sophocles][The Lark,The Thrush,and The Starling][Tar][Flesh and Blood][The Bacchae of Euripides][I Am The Bitter Name][A Dream of Mind]][The Vigil][Repair][misgivings][The Singing][Collected Poems]등 15권의 시집을 상재했다. 그 외, 미국 아카데미 Morton Dauwen Zabel 상, Lila Acheson Wallace/리더스 다이제스트 작가상, 루스 릴리상, 헤리 몬로상, Pen/Voelker 경력 공로상, 구겐하임 펠로우쉽등을 수여받았다.
(Translated by Shinjihye)