Yaw-oh. (Date Uncertain)
This is credibly stated to be the oldest piece of Korean literature extant. It was discovered in a Chinese book called “Ko-tang-si.” This record states that the song was made by a woman, Yaw-oh, wife of a ferryman, Chago. One day, when Chago was crossing the river, he saw a man swimming in the stream. At that moment the man’s wife rushed wailing to the bank and tried to save him, but she was too late. The rapid current overcame him and he sank. The woman then set up a wild lamentation, jumped into the river and disappeared. Chago told his wife what he had seen. She was greatly distressed and made the following curious ‘‘Lament.’’ In the original each line has its special measure of music and each measure is an expression of sorrow.
Grey willow trees that by the river sway,
Green reeds that whisper to the pebbled sand,
Will you not weep for her?
Wind that blows through the forest day by day,
River that flows so swiftly to the sea,
Did you not hear her cry?
Over the meadow, gay with iris flowers,
She sped; but, all in vain, she came too late.
Will you not weep, blue flowers?