I wrote this poem in thinking of the lonesome wife of my friend who went away a long time ago. It does not necessarily mean only the wife. She may be a certain middle-aged woman whoes husband has died early. and she may has been longing for the dead, living by sewing and emvroidering.

An Embroidering Woman
Choi Paul Yearn

A woman was embroidering:
She, sitting by the window
where a crane was flying the blue sky,
was embroidering the colorful threads
as if she was restoring an original mural of Koguryo,*
and as if she didn't sense my looking at her,
and as if she pretended not to sense it.
Sometimes resting her hand
from the cold sharp needle,
she sighed rubbing her eyes.
And she seemed like a little shaking shoulders
bending her face on the floor
as if being soaked in an unbearable longing
and after a while looked at a far sky

* Koguryo was an ancient powerful kingdom that controlled the vast territory of Northern Korea and Manchuria which was defeated by the Tang-Silla joint invasion in the 8th century.