Observations placeholder
Hyangga of Korea - Song of Ch'oyong
Identifier
027046
Type of Spiritual Experience
Background
A description of the experience
From the Columbia Anthology of Traditional Korean Poetry – edited by Peter Lee
Song of Ch'oyong
After the event of the year 879, when Ch'oyong drove away the evil spirit, his mask was used by the people to expel demons and pestilence. This choral dance was performed at court on New Year's Eve to exorcise evil spirits from the country.
In the glorious reign of Silla, calm and bright,
We owe this peaceful era to the grace of Rahu.
Father Ch'oyong,
If he never talks to us,
If he never talks to us,
Three calamities and eight difficulties
Will vanish all at once.
O his bearing,
Ch'oyong's bearing,
Head, inclining under adorned flowers,
Oh, the brow that manifests longevity
Thick eyebrows, imbued with the mountain spirit,
Eyes perfect from having gazed lovingly at humans,
Dented ears, gardens full of music,
Face pink as peach blossoms.
Deeply set nose that smelled the five incenses,
O indulgent mouth, having received a thousand gold pieces,
Teeth like white jade or glass,
Chin, slightly curved, praised for good fortune,
Shoulders, stooped under the seven jewels,
Sleeves, hanging down, flooded with overpowering blessings,
Breast, endowed with wisdom and virtue,
Stomach, full with happiness and wisdom,
Waist, bent with the striking pink sash,
O long legs, because he enjoys peace with others,
And his feet, wide from visiting his clients!
Who has made, who has made,
Without a needle, without thread,
Without a needle, without thread,
Who has fashioned Father Ch'oyong?
Many, many have created him,
How great, how imposing!
Twelve kingdoms put him together.
Oh, many have made Father Ch'oyong.
Cherries, crab apples, green plums
Come out to tie my sandals,
If you do not, I'll curse you.
Having caroused far into the night
In the moonlit capital,
I return home and in my bed
Behold four legs.
Oh, two were mine;
Whose are the other two?
Think now, if Ch'oyong sees you,
O demon of pestilence, he'll cut you to pieces.
Shall we offer you thousands of gold pieces,
Father Ch'oyong?
Shall we offer you the seven jewels
Father Ch'oyong?
Not the gold, nor the jewels,
Catch me that demon, catch him.
Over the mountains, over the fields,
Avoid Ch'oyong far away.
Oh, that was the Plea of the demon.