Pyun Ke-ryang. (Circa 1400 A.D.)
A favoured friend of the monarch and for twenty years head of the Confucian College. He was a man of deep learning and great piety but his excessive stinginess made him a laughing stock for all the wags of his day. In the “Lighted Bramble” record it is told of Pyun Ke-ryang:
“Even in the case of the pumpkins that he had cut up he counted every slice lest anything should be missing. He took note of the glasses of wine as well and had the bottles recorded. Guests, seeing his stingy manner, would often get up and leave his table.”
Quiet is this village folded below the mountain.
Softly the shadows fall on fresh-turned furrows.
Down by the stream I wander, gathering simples
While my books are spread to dry in the bleaching sun.
Under the sky’s deep vault the wild geese wheel.
The blue wing shadow of the mountain darkens.
Across the twilight booms a bell’s rich note.
Now through the bamboo thicket moonbeams quiver.
What endless thoughts awaken from the night!
With longing eyes that bridge a thousand miles,
I look toward Seoul, to you—my friend of friends,
And write this little song of fleeting thoughts.