Iŏn 俚諺 (Folk Vernacular)

Yi Ok's choice of genres for comparison here is deliberate. The “Airs of the States” (Guofeng 國風) section of the Book of Poetry is the segment known to incorporate the songs of the feudal states of the Zhou court, supposedly comprising elements unique to each state. The “Music Bureau” (Yuefu 樂府) ballads, with their ritual, sacrificial, and military song beginnings, eventually extended to incorporate songs by common people. The ci 詞 and qu 曲 represent lyric verses written to fit specific patterns that flourished in the Song (ci) and Yuan (qu) periods. These genres share common significance with what Yi Ok is about to write. First, they all purportedly related the lives and feelings of common people. Second, they are all more closely associated with oral tradition than with their canonical counterparts like hymns (ya 雅), eulogies (song 頌), and regular poems (shi 詩). Third, conventional views see these genres as a direct reflection of “popular” local languages that were then transformed into staple parts of the Chinese literary tradition. Lastly, they were more open to expressing matters of women and often assumed female voices, albeit written by male poets. This last point is brought up by Yi Ok himself in the “Second Criticism” later.

Saying that he is not the the master (chu 主) here indicates that it was someone or something else that causes him to write, foregrounding that the role of writers and poets is not that of master of the work he/she creates. It is likely that Yi Ok is alluding to Confucius who described himself as “transmitting but not creating” 述而不作 (The Analects, 7.1), from which zuo 作 became a paramount concept in Confucianism. For more on the significance of creation in Confucianism, see Puett (2001, esp. chapter 2).

The original text for “scatter and pile” 紛堆 could be a scribal error for “scatter and shuffle” 紛雜, which works better with “like the rain” than “scatter and pile” does.

Yuntian guangyue 勻天廣樂, also known as Juntian guangyue 鈞天廣樂, is the music that Duke Mu of Qin 秦穆公 reported to have heard with Shangdi 上帝 during the time he was unconscious for seven days (Liezi 列子, “Zhou Muwang” 周穆王, Yang Bojun 楊伯峻 1979: 90). Juntian is the middle of the Nine Heavens. The same experience was also related by Zhao Jianzi 趙簡子 (d. 496 BCE) in the “Hereditary House of Zhao” 趙世家 of the Shiji 史記 (Sima Qian 司馬遷 1959: 43.1787), and appeared frequently in literature, e.g., Zhang Heng's 張衡 (78–139) “Western Metropolis Rhapsody” 西京賦. See Knechtges (1982: 184).

“Reveal the minister by way of a dream” and “go to the winnow to pass on reality” 托夢而現相，赴箕而通情 is a couplet made of two allusions. The first half alludes to the story of Fu Yue 傅說, whose image was revealed to the thearch Wuding 武丁 (Gaozong 高宗, d. 1192 BCE) of Shang in his dream as a worthy. Wuding searched for the person among his subjects based on the image, but to no avail. He then located Yue who was working as a lowly laborer in Fu and made him the chief minister (xiang 相); “Yin benji” 殷本紀, Shiji 史記 (Sima Qian 1959: 3.102). Wuding did not rely on any preconceived categorization fitting someone of talent to run the state—certainly not a lowly laborer—but the image shown to him, and thus the phrase, means to reveal themselves as they are. The Zhuangzi mentioned Fu Yue as one who had obtained the Way that is sans action or form, so much so that it can only be transmitted but not received and one can obtain it but cannot see it (“無為無形, 可傳而不可受, 可得而不可見”). Because Fu Yue obtained the Way, he could become the chief minister of Wuding, embrace the world under his control, ride the eastern Milky Way to drive to the Ji and Wei stars, and finally stand in the array of stars (“傅說得之, 以相武丁, 奄有天下, 乘東維, 騎箕尾, 而比於列星”). See “Dazongshi” 大宗師, Zhuangzi jishi 莊子集釋 (Guo Qingfan 郭慶藩 1982: 246–47). The Ji 箕 (lit. “winnow” or “sieve”) star (G Scorpii) is also called Fuyue, which constitutes the constellation of Scorpius. The second half of the couplet is associated with the Ming-Chinese writer Yuan Hongdao 袁宏道 (1568–1670). The expression fuji (赴箕 “go to the winnow”) is seen in Yuan Hongdao's “Expanding on Zhuangzi” 廣莊 in Yuan Hongdao ji jianjiao 袁宏道集箋校 (1981: 808) and “Discussing human nature with immortals” 與仙人論人性書 (1981: 489). Fuji may refer to spirit writing, i.e., a Daoist divination practice in which, like in a planchette writing, the spirit or immortal (called jixian 箕仙) comes to the winnow and makes the medium write the message. Also known as fuji 扶乩 or 扶箕, the practice became widespread in the Song and continued on during the Ming- and Qing-period China (see Russell 1990: 107–40, esp. 116; Despeux 2008: 428–29). Jixian sending messages through the medium is thus likened to heaven and earth and the ten thousand things composing poetry through poets.

As exemplified in the Peacock Sutra (Kongque jing 孔雀經, or Kongque mingwang jing 孔雀明王經 [Sutra of the Great Peahen, Queen of Mantras, Skt. Mahāmāyūrī-vidyārājñī]), an early Buddhist magical incantation for self-protection, peacocks were a symbol for protection against deadly harms, for their ability to kill poisonous snakes. This particular allusion Yi Ok employs appears to be to the story told by Shakyamuni to Sun Wukong in the Journey to the West 西遊記 (chapter 77). He wanted to kill it afterwards but various buddhas persuaded him that hurting the peacock was like hurting his own mother. Shakyamuni made it into Buddha-Mother (Bodhisattva Mahārāja Mayūra, or Peacock King) instead. Mahārāja Mayūra is also a former incarnation of Shakyamuni himself (see Yu 2012: 29, 434.)

Xiangxu is a classical term used for official interpreters, coined in the Rites of Zhou 周禮 under Ministry of Justice (qiuguan 秋官).

Longmian 龍眠 is the nickname of a Song Chinese painter Li Gonglin 李公麟 (d. 1106) who retired to Longmian Mountain.

Naγaču (d. 1381) was a Mongol general in charge of Liaoyang province, who invaded the northern part of the Korean peninsula during the Koryŏ period.

Lord Mengchang (d. 278 BCE), a famous minister of the State of Qi 齊 during the Warring States period, was said to have a dwarfish appearance unlike his praised accomplishments, according to his biography in the Shiji. “Biography of Lord Mengchang” 孟嘗君列傳 (Sima Qian 1959: 75.2355).

Also known as Juwu Ba 巨毋霸. He was recommended to Wang Mang 王莽 (45 BCE −23 CE) by Han Bo 韓博. The “Biography of Wang Mang” describes him as “ten feet tall and ten armfuls around” 長丈, 大十圍. (“Biography of Wang Mang 2” 王莽傳下, Ban Gu 班固 et al. 1962, 99.4157).

One of the Di 狄 (or 翟) peoples of the Spring and Autumn period (722–481 BCE), who were known for their tall and large builds.

Both “Peach Tree Lush” (Poem 6) and “Dolichos spreading” (Poem 2) are in the “Zhounan” 周南 section of the Book of Poetry.

“Red Egrets” and “Oldman Grief” are the first two of “Han Songs for Nao bells (Han Naoge 漢鐃歌)” under “Lyrics for Drum and Pipe Songs (Guchui quci 鼓吹曲辭)” in Guo Maoqian 郭茂倩 (1998: 16.4b–6a).

“Candle Shadow Swaying Red” and “Butterfly Longing for Flowers” are names of tune patterns of ci lyrics (cipai 詞牌).

The original line “天地萬物之所於我乎徘徊者” presents a syntactic anomaly, where ho 乎 (a particle that usually indicates a pause or a question, or functions as a preposition) seems out of place. No textual variance exists among extant versions of the Iŏn.

Hangnyŏng 鶴翎 (Ch. Heling) is a kind of chrysanthemum. It got its name from its petals looking like feathers of cranes, which often feature in poetry as being ridden by immortals (e.g., Du Fu 杜甫 [712–770], “Poem on Qiaoling in Thirty Couplets, to Be Shown to the Officials of the County” 橋陵詩三十韻因呈縣內諸官). The Zunsheng bajian 遵生八箋 (1591) listed under “Juhua pu” 菊花譜 [Chrysanthemum list] three different colors of Heling (violet, white, and yellow) (Gao Lian 高濂 1988: 16.48a). Yi Ok must be talking about the yellow kind here.

From The Analects (12.1), where Confucius conversed with his disciple Yan Yuan 顏淵 (d. 490 BCE).

The Shijing jizhu 詩經集註 by Zhu Xi 朱熹 (1130–1200).

From The Analects (2.2), where Confucius states: “The three hundred poems (in the Book of Poetry) may be embraced in one phrase, ‘to not have depraved thoughts’” 詩三百, 一言以蔽之, 思無邪.

“Rabbit-net” (Poem 7) is in the “Zhounan” and “Sweet Pear Tree” (Poem 16) in the “Shaonan.”

Both are items used in wedding ceremonies. Kŭn 巹 is a goblet made of a half gourd. At the wedding ceremony the bride and groom drink wine from cups made from the same gourd cut in half, called kŭnbae 巹杯, and this part of the wedding is called hapkŭnnye (合巹禮 “uniting-gourd rite”). This is according to the “Hunyi” 昏義 (Wedding) of the Liji 禮記 (44.2): “At gonglao [joint-dining rite], they eat; with hejin [uniting-gourd rite], they rinse the mouths with wine 共牢而食, 合巹而酳.” It is not clear why Yi Ok specified the color of the goblet green, when most documents did not specify the color of kŭnbae. Red candles are used in most celebratory rituals. Scenes of a wedding ceremony appear in the poems under “Elegant Mode” later.

These are also parts of a wedding procedure.

“Blue mansion” (ch’ŏngnu 靑樓, C. qinglou) is found in a number of Chinese poems, appropriating luxurious buildings standing on large streets, e.g., Cao Zhi's 曹植 (192–232) “The Pretty Girl” (Meinü pian 美女篇) has: “I once asked her where she lives—; Inside the city, south end; The blue mansion looking over the large street; Tall gate, locked twice” 借問女安居. 乃在城南端. 青樓臨大路, 高門結重關, but it often extends to refer to bars with prostitutes. “Willow market” (Yusi 柳市, C. Liushi) was one of the nine markets in Chang'an, once known for its exuberance, which later came to refer to opulent and lavish streets in cities and has been used in that sense by Chinese and Korean poets. (See “Chang'an jiushi” 長安九市 [Nine markets of Chang'an], Anonymous, 1919–1936, Sanfu huangtu 三輔黃圖 [Metropolitan layout of the capital area], 2.1a).

“Cuddling with rouge faces and leaning on jadeite sleeves” (oehong ŭich'wi 偎紅倚翠) describes cavorting with courtesans. The phrase is seen in the “Weihong yicui dashi” 偎紅倚翠大師 of the Qingyi lu 清異錄, a Song-dynasty biji 筆記 by Tao Gu 陶穀 (903–970), where Li Yu 李煜 (937–978), the last monarch of the Southern Tang (937–975), caroused with a Buddhist monk at a brothel (1782: 1.29b–30a).

“Frosty fulling sounds” (sangch'im 霜砧) invokes sad, cold, or nostalgic senses. A well-known line is in Du Fu's “Eight Poems in Autumn Meditation” 秋興八首: “The chrysanthemum bush has opened twice for my tears over bygone days; The forlorn boat, once and for all, tethers my homeward thoughts; In the houses quilted clothes hurry scissors and ruler; Baidi Fortress, high on the hill, hastens evening the fulling sound” 叢菊兩開他日淚, 孤舟一繫故園心. 寒衣處處催刀尺, 白帝城高急暮砧.

This is similar to the Chinese yuexia huaqian (月下花前 “under the moon, in front of the flower”), referring to pleasant and beautiful surroundings, which often trigger romantic feelings between a man and a woman.

“Giving jade pendants” (zengpei 贈佩) appears in the story of Jiaofu 交甫 of Zheng 鄭, who arrived in Hangao 漢皋 and was handed two jade pendants by two playful nymphs. The story appears in the “Southern Capital Rhapsody” by Zhang Heng. See Knechtges (1982: 2.313–14, note on line 21).

“Secretly passing incense” (touxiang 偷香) alludes to a story introduced in “Delusion and Infatuation” 惑溺 of the Shishuo xinyu 世說新語 (Liu Yiqing 劉義慶 1984: 921) based on the “Biography of Jia Chong” 賈充傳 of the Jinshu 晉書, where Jia Chong's daughter Jia Wu 賈午 stole the incense that Emperor Wu bestowed her father and gave it to Han Shou 韓壽 living next door, with whom she fell in love. It specifically describes a woman falling for a man. Several Korean writers including Kim Sisŭp 金時習 (1435–1493) and Chŏng Saryong 鄭士龍 (1491–1570) have used the allusion in their poems.

Textual discrepancy exists among editions. The Yi Ok chŏnjip 李鈺全集 text does not have “Below the flowers, under the moon, giving jade pendants and passing incense are also true feelings” 花底月下, 贈藥偸香者, 亦眞情也. It appears in the text of the SKKU collection. The edition in AKS collection has “giving medicine” (chŭngyak 贈藥) for “giving jade pendants.” “Giving medicine” was from the story of the fellowship between Yang Hu 羊祜 (221–278) and Lu Kang 陸抗 (226–274). Though they served rival states respectively, Yang Hu of Western Jin and Lu Kang of Eastern Wu, according to “Biography of Yang Hu” 羊祜傳, respected each other so much so that Lu Kang took the medicine that Yang Hu sent without a doubt. (Fang Xuanling 房玄齡 1974: 34.1017.) It later became a phrase to express peaceful border, but here to mean deep, trusting affections.

Of the Mao Tradition of the Poetry (Maoshi zhuan 毛詩傳).

鄭玄 (127–200).

Ziyang is one of Zhu Xi's sobriquets.

The Iŏn chip version in the AKS collection has 亦無所可矣 “also there is nothing for which we can,” whereas the Yerim chapp'ae version has 亦無所不可矣 “also there is nothing for which we cannot.” The National Library version, which this translation uses, has 亦無所可矣 and added 不 “not” on the right-hand side of 可 “can.” It appears that the scribe added the character, perhaps thinking that 無所不可 “there is nothing one cannot” is more common a pattern. This translation follows the textual rendering without the negative adverb 不. “Upright airs” (chŏngp'ung 正風 C. zhengfeng) and “licentious airs” (ŭmp'ung 淫風 C. yinfeng) are from the traditional dictum that the moral integrity and decline of a state is manifest in the music of that state, and thus its music transforms its people (fengjiao 風教), derived from the “Preface to Guanju” of the “Minor Preface” to the Book of Poetry. “Licentious airs” are one of the modes of such deviation (bianfeng 變風 “changed airs”) from the “upright airs” that the elegant hymns represent. The airs of Zheng 鄭 and Wei 衛 states were known as such examples of deviation (Analects, 15.11; 17.18.).

“Eccentric by nature” translates “p'yŏnsŏng” literally meaning “unevenly converged nature.” Human nature that is unevenly disposed, or an imbalanced distribution of moral nature, would cause one to lose control of one's emotion and behavior. It was attributed to the material nature (qizhi zhi xing 氣質之性) allocated in human beings; as the Qing philosopher Yan Yuan 顏元 (1635–1704) put it, “It (human nature) is in the goodness, (but) because qi is uneven, this xing (human nature) becomes uneven” 他原頭處都是善, 因氣偏, 這性便偏了 (“Xingli ping” 性理評, 1957: 11).

Allusion to fa xing zhi fu 伐性之斧, as in a line from Mei Sheng's 枚乘 (d. 140 BCE) poem “Qifa” 七發 [Seven stimuli], calling white teeth and ax-shaped eyebrows of beautiful women “axes that sever the heavenly nature (of men)” 皓齒蛾眉, 命曰伐性之斧 (Xiao Tong 蕭統 1977: 34.478).

“Phoenix Pond” was in the imperial park and here refers to high-ranking officialdom. It is because the Secretariat (Zhongshu sheng 中書省) was inside the imperial lake and headed by the minister favored by the emperor (from Wei onward), and later also used as a synonym for grand councilor (zaixiang 宰相, from Tang onward). See Yang (2003: 152).

Saeng (Ch. sheng) and yong (Ch. yong) are ritual instruments, appearing in as early as the “Yi Ji” 益稷 of the Book of Documents in a description of Zhou court music (“As the progenitors arrive and the guest of Yu is in place . . . when sheng and yong play, birds and beasts come dancing” 祖考來格, 虞賓在位 . . . 笙鏞以閒, 鳥獸蹌蹌. Translation modified from Legge). These instruments have been replicated in the court rituals in China and in Korea (see Sejong sillok 世宗實錄, Sejong 15 [1433)/6/28]). Gliding above Phoenix Pond and going in and out of saeng and yong refer to thinking and living in the world of lofty literature and high culture.

As seen in Li Bai's 李白 (701–762) famous poem, “Shan zhong wenda” 山中問答 [Conversation in the mountains], a jade-green mountain 碧山 (pyŏksan, C. bishan) is a realm away from worldly human affairs. Gibbons and cranes are compared to gentlemen in recluse in literary imagery, often referencing Ge Hong's 葛洪 (283–343) account (as quoted in Li Fang 李昉 et al. 1960: 74.85, 74.961) of the southward campaign by King Mu of Zhou: “When King Mu of Zhou went on an expedition to the south, the entire troop transformed: gentlemen became gibbons and cranes, and petty men critters and sands” 周穆王南征, 一軍盡化, 君子為猿為鶴, 小人為蟲為沙. “Jade-green mountains” and “gibbons and cranes” are also often paired, the latter being animals living in transcendental domains like the former. This symbolism was also repeated by numerous Korean writers, such as Yi I's 李珥 (Yulgok 栗谷, 1536–1584) long travel poem “P'ungak haeng” 楓岳行 (Yi I 1814, Sŭbyu 拾遺, 1.23b), though gibbons (and apes in general) are not native to the Korean peninsula, except for perhaps Cheju (Jeju) Island.

Kamga (Ch. han'ge) is from the Book of Documents: “If you dare to dance in the palace all the time, drinking and singing in the chamber, this is called the air of sorcerers” 敢有恒舞于宮, 酣歌于室, 時謂巫風 (“Yixun” 伊訓, Book of Documents 3.2).

Yŏnhwa 煙花 (Ch. yanhua), or flowers amid spring fog, depicts a spring scene where flowers begin to appear on a foggy morning (cf. Shen Yue's 沈約 (441–513) line in “Shangchun shi” 傷春詩 [Lamenting the spring], Lu Qinli 逯欽立 1983: 7.1650). The expression was also well used by Korean writers, e.g., Yi Kyubo's 李奎報 (1169–1241) “Climbed up a high hill, gazed at the view; The flowery fog, spread thick, stirs up my feelings” 登崇丘兮望行色，烟花掩苒兮蕩情, in “Ch'unmang pu” 春望賦 [Rhapsody on the spring view] (Sŏ Kŏjŏng 徐居正 et al. 1478: 1.18a).

Although Changan (Ch. Chang'an) is the name of the old capital of Tang China (modern Xi'an), it came also to mean a “big city” or “capital city” in Korea and is still used in some modern Korean expressions. Here it evokes the sense of the capital (Hanyang), bridging to the original referent, Tang Chang'an, the archetypal capital and “city of eternal peace” that it once was. “Brocaded Chang'an” would be Chang'an in its heyday. In Hong Sheng's 洪昇 (1645–1704) drama Changsheng dian 長生殿 [Palace of eternal life], “brocaded Chang'an” is used to designate Chang'an before it was captured by An Lushan's 安祿山 (d. 757) rebels (Tanci 彈詞 [Plucking tune], Hong Sheng 1983: 200).

The National Library version misses 間 “among/of” after 天地萬物之, which other versions include.

Relying on other versions, the translation adds 物 “thing” after 有名之物無名之, which is missing in the National Library version. What Yi Ok means by “name” here is what he calls later in the sentence “original names” (pollae chi myŏng 本來之名), which are most likely given and used in the literary language, as opposed to “local names” (hyangmyŏng 鄕名).

Yueyang lou is a historic tower located on Dongting Lake 洞庭湖 in modern Hunan Province, China, and has been the motif of numerous poems and writings. Zuiweng ting is similarly a famous pavilion in China (Chuzhou 滁洲, modern Anhui Province), built upon the orders of Ouyang Xiu 歐陽修 (1007–1072) when he was the magistrate of Chuzhou. Zuiweng (Old Drunkard) is Ouyang Xiu's sobriquet, and his “Zuiweng ting ji” 醉翁亭記 [On Old Drunkard Pavilion] is one of the most celebrated essays in LS. It was not uncommon for Chosŏn literati to name their residence or studio after these famous Chinese building names.

Myŏng (given name) here means kwanmyŏng 冠名, a name that a man adopts after passing his capping ceremony. Unlike an infant name (amyŏng 兒名) used before passing the capping ceremony, a given name is formal, includes his generational character (hangnyŏlcha 行列字), and is registered in the genealogy. One's cha (style name or courtesy name) was usually given at the capping ceremony alongside the given name, for a given name was reserved for the person's absolute superiors (such as the father and the king) to use. Women took their style names when they were given permission to marry (“男女異長. 男子二十冠而字. 父前子名, 君前臣名. 女子許嫁, 笄而字” [“Quli shang” 曲禮上, Liji zhushu 禮記注疏, 2.24b–15a]).

Wang and Xie were the surnames of powerful family names during Six Dynasties China; Cui and Lu were those of the Tang, especially in the Shandong area. Both pairs are often used metonymically to refer to magnate families.

Notice that Yi Ok says “people of antiquity and the people of China” (ko chi in chungguk chi in 古之人中國之人), which denotes two different types of otherness—people who lived in a different time and people who live in a different place.

“Toktansŏk” is Yi Ok's own transliteration of what became modern Korean totchari “lath mat,” a mat made of interlaced, dried rushes or reeds. It is a compound of tok and tansŏk, of which the former is the native Korean word for lath mats, and the latter a Sino-Korean word, 單席 “single-layer mat.” Tok is traced back to Middle Korean twos(k), attested in Han'gŭl as early as in the Nŭngŏm kyŏng ŏnhae 楞嚴經諺解 (1461) and Hunmong chahoe 訓蒙字會 (Ch'oe Sejin 崔世珍 1527: b6). Tansŏk (Ch. danxi) is mentioned in the Liji: “Sacrifices for ghosts use single-layer mats” 鬼神之祭, 單席 (“Liqi” 禮器, Liji zhushu, 24.13b; 15a), upon which Kong Yingda 孔穎達 commented, “The way of gods is different from men's—without having to rely on multiple layers, they can warm themselves, and thus use single-layer mats” 神道異人, 不假多重, 自溫, 故單席也. The format of the compound here is not in fact unusual in many languages, combining the local/vernacular word in question and its understood (Sinitic) equivalent.

Tŭnggyŏng 燈檠 was a common word for “lamp frame” in LS. Kwangmyŏng (光明 “light”) is not of any native Korean morpheme (such as pul “fire; light”) but a Sinitic word either adapted or coined in Korea. We find kwangmyŏng-dŭng “lamp frame” in the Yŏgŏ yuhae po 譯語類解補 (Kim Hongch’ŏl 1775: 44a).

P'il is the SK reading of 筆 “writing brush” (Old Chinese *p.rut > Middle Chinese pit > Sino-Korean p'il; Modern Mandarin bi). Pusi 賦詩 (lit. “to compose poems”) is Yi Ok's sinographic transliteration of put 붓 + subject particle i 이, a nativized or non-graphic rendition of Chinese 筆 in Korean. Perhaps he chose these graphs intentionally: when compounded, they meant poetry in general, which fits what he associated writing brushes with.

Choŭi 照意 is a sinographic transliteration of what became modern Korean chongi “paper,” which supposedly underwent the following change: Middle Korean cywohoy > cywohuy > cywoi > cwongi (i.e., MR chongi).

The mythological thearch who first came out by breaking the primordial state into heaven and earth.

Pŏbyu 法油 was a formal or more literary name for perilla oil, the etymology of which is uncertain. It could have been a sinographic word coined in Korea (perhaps with a connection with Buddhist rites), since it is not found in Chinese texts. Perilla oil was called zisuyou 紫蘇油 (or suyou 蘇油) or renziyou 荏子油 in China, according to the Qimin yaoshu 齊民要術 (Jia Sixie 賈思勰 et al. 1982: 529).

Notice that Yi Ok wrote 俺 (Ch. an, SK. ŏm) here for the first-person pronoun I, a token vernacular pronoun in some Chinese dialects, perhaps in order to add a colloquial touch to the lowly oil merchant's speech (which must have been in spoken local Korean). Chinyu 眞油 (lit. “true oil”) is also called ch'amgirŭm (true + oil) “sesame oil” in native Korean, and tŭngyu 燈油 (lit. “lamp oil”), tŭlgirŭm (wild + oil) “perilla oil.” Perilla oil was used for lighting lamps, and in modern Korean usage, tŭngyu refers to kerosene. The prefixes ch'am- and tŭl- can be seen in ch'amkkae “sesame” and tŭlkkae “perilla.” Though sesame and perilla are of different genera (Sesamum indicum and Perilla frutescens), they were both perceived traditionally as sesame (kkae) of two varying kinds (true and wild). It is not clear whether Yi Ok meant the vernacular words (ch'amgirŭm and tŭlgirŭm) or the sinographic words (chinyu and tŭngyu) to be uttered by the oil seller here.

Muk is a vernacular Korean word for jellified starch, typically made of green beans, acorns, or buck weed. P'o 泡, literally meaning “bubble/foam” or “soak/immerse,” also referred to any coagulated substance curded in boiling water. Ch’ŏngp'o, i.e., “fresh green jelly,” thus means plain green bean curd. Ch’ŏngp'o appears to be a sinographic word coined in Korea, for it does not appear in Chinese sources.

The vernacular Korean word for halcyon (or kingfisher) is soesae (lit. “iron bird”) and was also known in its sinographic equivalent, ch’ŏlchak 鐵雀 “iron sparrow.” Yi Ok presumably did mean to write its sinographic name (ch’ŏlchak) here, since he would have tried to transliterate it otherwise. Soesae is found in the Hunmong chahoe (Ch'oe Sejin 1527: a9) and Yŏgŏ yuhae 譯語類解 (Chŏng Ch'angju 1690: b27b).

Pich'wi 翡翠 (Ch. feicui) is a Chinese word for halcyon, which also denotes green jadeite for the similarity of color. A halcyon is also known as yugou 魚狗 (lit. “fish hound”), perhaps for its skill in catching fish, in medical texts (e.g., Bencao gangmu 本草綱目 and Tongŭi pogam 東醫寶鑑). The quoted poem is supposed to refer to the first line of Ch'oe Wŏnu's 崔元祐 (ca. 1326) poem collected in the Tong munsŏn, “Che Mujin kaeksa” 題茂珍客舍 [At a guesthouse in Mujin], which reads: “Tall bamboos, house after house, a halcyon cries; Hurrying the Cold Food Festival, the rain creates a brook; Green moss and short grass on the bridge to the district office; I fear I might see scattered flowers in my horse's hooves” 脩竹家家翡翠啼，雨催寒食水生溪，蒼苔小草官橋路，怕見殘紅入馬蹄 (Sŏ Kŏjŏng et al. 1478: 21.12a–b).

Yuecheng 越裳 was an old state in the Viet region, near Jiaozhou 交州 (modern Vietnam). Numerous poems wrote that halcyon was a tribute from Yuecheng, including Du Fu's “Zhujiang” 諸將 [The generals] (Owen 2016: 237).

Chŏptong is an onomatopoeic name in Korean for cuckoos transliterated with sinographs. Its Chinese name, dujuan (SK. tugyŏn), derived from juan 鵑 (SK. kyŏn), is also known as zijuan 子鵑, zigui 子規, and duyu 杜宇. Cuckoos are associated with the ancient Shu 蜀 kingdom (modern Sichuan), and its cry evoked sorrow and lamentation. It was said that the Shu king Du Yu's soul had transformed into a cuckoo, after he left his land ceding the throne to his chief minister Bieling 鱉令 who could control floods. The people of Shu were saddened every time they heard a cuckoo cry. (See Chang Qu 常璩, “Shu zhi” 蜀志 [Gazetteer of Shu] in the Huayangguo zhi 華陽國志 [Chang and Lin 1984: 3.182]). The quoted line is from a poem attributed to Lady Yi 李氏 (sobriquet, Okpong 玉峯), a concubine of Cho Wŏn 趙瑗 (1544–1595). She herself was a concubinary daughter of Yi Pongji 李逢之 of Chŏnju Yi family, which makes Lady Yi a royal kin. The poem reads: “Five days to Taegwallyŏng Pass, the third day in Yŏngwŏl; A sad song cuts across the clouds over Prince Nosan's tomb; I, too, am a daughter of a royal descendant; Can't bear to hear the cuckoo's cry of this land” 五日長關三日越，哀詞吟斷魯陵雲，妾身亦是王孫女，此地鵑聲不忍聞. Prince Nosan is King Tanjong 端宗 (r. 1455–1457) who suffered the tragic fate of being forced to abdicate at the age of thirteen, followed by a suspicious death, by his uncle Prince Suyang 首陽大君 (King Sejo 世祖). The poem is quoted by a few writers, including Yi Sugwang 李睟光 (1563–1628) in Chibong yusŏl 芝峯類說 (1614: 14.9a) and Hŏ Kyun's “Sŏngsu sihwa” 惺叟詩話 in his anthology, Sŏngso pubugo 惺所覆瓿藁 (n.d.: 25.367).

All these cases of using sinographs as phonograms are from the “Silla bon'gi” 新羅本紀 [Basic Annals of Silla] in Kim Pusik's (1075–1115) Samguk sagi 三國史記 (see 1145: kwŏn 1). Sŏnabŏl 徐那伐 is a transliteration of the name that later came to be known as Sŏrabŏl. It is a phonographic combination of Sŏna (also written elsewhere as Saro 斯盧, Sara 斯羅, Sŏra 徐羅, Sŏya 徐耶, and Silla 新羅) + pŏl (“state, town”), which later became Sŏul (Seoul) meaning “capital city.” Nisagŭm 尼師今 writes nitkŭm, another phonographic combination of the vernacular morphemes ni “tooth” + s (genitive particle) + kŭm “line, crack,” which later became, according to some, vernacular Korean imgŭm “king.” According to the Samguk sagi, Silla had a practice of selecting the king by his teeth mark—whoever among the candidates left the most teeth in his bite mark became the king. Pak is the surname of the first monarchical lineage of Silla. The character 朴 (SK pak; C. piao) was supposedly adopted to write the native Korean (Silla) word pak meaning “gourd.” The sinographs for “gourd” is 瓠 (SK ho; C. hu). Yi Ok argues here that, if local names are unwritable but only sayable, then why did Kim Pusik write them down in such ways, i.e., sounding them out in sinographs, in the Samguk sagi?

This is an important remark by Yi Ok. In his mind, LS as defined in the traditional sense represents a “tamed” language that anyone from later generations, as well as from other non-Sinitic peoples, can understand, as opposed to local vernacular languages. LS is thus cosmopolitan and perpetual, whereas the local vernacular is individual and temporary. Writing is permanent; speech is fleeting. But at the same time, if spoken words are written down, as they have been when Chinese writers wrote the “Airs,” “Music Bureau Songs,” and “ciqu lyrics,” they can survive and perpetuate.

“Naoge” 鐃歌 [Song for Nao bells] refers to the eighteen martial songs (“Duanxiao naoge” 短簫鐃歌 [Songs for short panpipe and Nao bells]) among the yuefu poems of the Han, but here it may have been used metonymically for Han yuefu poetry in general. “Mei-Ma” is a pairing name to refer to Mei Sheng and Sima Xiangru 司馬相如 (ca. 179–117 BCE), celebrated writers of the Han. Their fu (rhapsody) works were known as the epitome of literary skill and talent, to which Yi Ok also alluded in this line. Such a reference was typical in Chosŏn, as reflected in Chŏng Tojŏn's 鄭道傳 (d. 1398) words, “(Mei) Sheng and (Sima) Xiangru roamed with feudal lords, all able to flourish their excellence and boast their literary talent by intoning their nature and emotions, with which they perfected their literary accomplishments” 枚乘相如，遊於諸侯，咸能振英摛藻，吟咏性情，以懿文德 (“Toŭn munjip sŏ” 陶隱文集序 [Preface to Toŭn's (Yi Sungin 李崇仁) anthology], 1791: 3.53a–b). Fengzhou 鳳州 is a sobriquet of Wang Shizhen 王世貞 (1526–1590), to whom the Plum in the Golden Vase (Jinping mei 金瓶梅) was attributed. His Shishuo xinyu bu 世說新語補 [Supplements to the Shishuo xinyu] was also popular in Chosŏn (more than the Shishuo xinyu itself).

The Academy of Korean Studies version has 嘗 “once” for 常 “always” in the National Library version. I follow the former.

There seems to be an error in Yi Ok's memory unless the modern typed edition has it incorrect. This record is not found under 玏 in the Kangxi zidian, but under hong/jiang 玒 (SK kong/kang)—three characters down on the same leaf—it records “Lord Ŭich'ang, Kong, Prince of Chosŏn (朝鮮王子義昌君玒),” citing Ni Qian's 倪謙 (ca. 1473) Chaoxian jishi 朝鮮紀事 (see Kangxi zidian 1892, Wuji shang 午集上, 3). Prince Ŭich'ang Yi Kong (also read Kang, 1428–1460) was a concubinary son of King Sejong.

You Changzhou is You Tong 尤侗 (1618–1704), a famous Qing scholar-official who compiled the Mingshi waiguozhuan 明史外國傳 [Biographies of foreign states in the Ming History] and the Waiguo zhuzhi ci 外國竹枝詞 [Lyrics of foreign songs].

Kyŏnggŭmja 絅錦子 is one of Yi Ok's sobriquets.

These are parts of the traditional wedding ceremony. The scenes described here are those in ch'inyŏng (親迎 “escorting the bride”), the last stage of a wedding, where the bridegroom goes to the bride's house to escort her back to his house. The groom brings wild geese (live or wooden) with him to give to the bride's family (called chŏn'annye [奠雁禮 “ritual presentation of wild geese”]), which is common in literati weddings (Yili 儀禮 2.2). Hapkŏnch'i (double-layered, dried pheasant meat) is one of the items featured in ceremonial banquets. It seems the line is describing the bride presenting the food to the groom at tongnoe 同牢 (joint dining, also written kongnoe 共牢), the first joint dining as a husband and a wife in front of the family. According to Chŏng Yagyong's 丁若鏞 (1762–1836) manual for literati weddings (“Karye chagŭi” 嘉禮酌儀), however, the bride presents dried pheasant to the parents-in-law during the hyŏn kugo rye (見舅姑禮 “ritual meeting with parents-in-law”), which takes place the next morning (1934–38: 3.23.11b–12b). For more discussion about literati wedding rites, see Deuchler (1992: 243–46).

The ceremony chooses a lady of a good married life to hold two split halves of a gourd, which are connected with a red cord (introduced above in “Second Criticism,” n. 22). The bride and groom drink the nuptial wine from hapkŭnbae as described in the next line. Connecting the cups with a red cord seems to have been of a local tradition rather than following the classical ritual manual. Yi Ik 李瀷 (1681–1764) stated in his “Kanyŏ ŭi” 嫁女儀 that this was an incorrect practice originating from the fictional story of the “Old Man under the Moon” (wŏrha noin 月下老人, C. yuexia laoren) and should not be followed (n.d.: 48.9a). An Chŏngbok 安鼎福 (1712–1792) also wrote in “Hollye chagŭi” 婚禮酌宜 that the custom was due to fiction writers (p'aega 稗家), and did not follow the rules of literati wedding rites (1900: 14.33b–34a). The story of the “Old Man under the Moon” about a mysterious old man connecting peoples’ destinies with red strings first appeared in the Xu Xuanguailu 續玄怪錄, a chuanqi 傳奇 collection by Li Liang 李諒 (775–833) and had spread widely throughout East Asia.

The exchange of nuptial wine, or haphwanju (lit. “Wine of conjoining delight”) is performed together with tongnoe. The main part of it is when the bride and groom drink the wine from the gourd cups three times. See note 22 for more detail.

Kwangt'onggyo (modern Kwanggyo 廣橋) is one of the main bridges on Ch’ŏnggyech’ŏn, south of the palace, in Kwangt'ong District (modern-day Chongno area). Sujinbang was a central district on the south of the palace but north of Kwangt'onggyo, near modern Susongdong where Sujin Palace 壽進宮 used to be. These areas are approximately a ten-minute walk from each other. This means both families lived in the central area of the capital, adjacent to the palace.

It seems that the bride has to (tang 當) get in the palanquin to leave her family for her husband's house but could not bear to do so, so she is trying multiple times in tears.

“Blue-black-silk hair” (ch’ŏngsabal) designates the black hair of youth. Cf. Li Bai's lines in “Jiagjin jiu” 將進酒 [Bring in the wine]: “Lofty hall, bright mirror, grieving over greying hair; It looked like blue-black silk in the morning, then became snow in the evening” 高堂明鏡悲白髮，朝如青絲暮成雪. Tying up one's hair implies marriage when a husband puts up his hair in a topknot (sangt'u) and a wife hers in a chignon (tchok).

“Chive root” is part of the common expression, “Kŏmŭn mŏri ka p'a ppuri toel ttae kkaji” (Until your black hair becomes [gray like] chive roots)—a common well-wishing phrase at weddings.

“Palace-style” calligraphy, i.e., Kungch'e sŏ (or Kungsŏ ch'e 宮體書), is known to have come from the script style used by court ladies when they wrote Han'gŭl, but it generally referred to the style of Han'gŭl writing of ladies, in which letters are more cursive and touching each other.

Iŭng is the name of the Han'gŭl consonant symbol ㅇ whose phonetic value is either zero (syllable-initial position) or /-ng/ (syllable-final position). Its round shape can be tricky to make when writing with a brush.

A night is divided into five night-watches based on double-hours: ch'ogyŏng 初更 (19:00 to 21:00), igyŏng 二更 (21:00 to 23:00), samgyŏng 三更 (23:00 to 1:00), sagyŏng 四更 (1:00 to 3:00), and ogyŏng 五更 (3:00 to 5:00).

“Going down the steps” means that the mulberry tree is in her yard, not outside the house, and perhaps there is only one or two mulberry trees. The lives of literati housewives ideally exist within the parameters of the house, and this is the “outing” allowed a married woman within the propriety of her day-to-day routine. At the same time, this suggests that her life is well ensconced and not troubled by household chores or hardship.

It is not clear what East Sea Silk is. An interlinear commentary to the “Method to fashion literati coats with a Mountain Thunder pattern” 山雷深衣制式 by Hwang Yunsŏk黃胤錫 (1729–1791) states, “In the northwest region of our country is East Sea Silk (Tonghae chu) whose original name is Tohae chu, which is also called Tonghae chu” 本國關西有東海紬。本名陶海紬。亦名銅𣖻紬者 (1829: 24.35b). Since it doesn't make perfect sense for the northwest region to be known for a silk named “East Sea,” the name may have been a sinographic corruption of a vernacular name.

A seventeenth-century fictional narrative written in Korea and staged in Song China, narrating the twists and turns in the life of Sukhyang, an abandoned female immortal, in the human world. It was widely read in nearly 100 different versions both in imprints and manuscripts and adapted in Han'gŭl, LS, and Japanese. It was also one of the few steady sellers among commercially printed (panggakpon 坊刻本) fictional works in the nineteenth century. An imprint from 1858, the oldest surviving, was recently discovered in Leiden.

Ok tongja is a small jade figurine of a baby boy, a pair of which could be worn as a pendant-like accessory. They could have been the ones used during the hapkŭnnye of the wedding ceremony, placed on the north and south of the table as incense holders. Again, Yi Ik's “Kanyŏ ŭi” (n.d.: 48.8b) and An Chŏngbok's “Hollye chagŭi” (1900: 14.33b–34a) uniformly denounced using the jade figurines in literati weddings, but they apparently appeared even in the royal wedding when King Yŏngjo married Queen Chŏngsun, as recorded in the Yŏngjo Chŏngsun wanghu karye togam ŭigwe (Togamch’ŏng 1759: 2.98). The symbolism of this figurine is apparent: to wish for women to bear sons.

Yuso “tassel” is used to ornament drapes and banners, as well as pendants and accessories on the dress. Here she tied the figurine to a tassel to wear on herself, keeping it slightly covered, rather than blatantly exposing it—coy but still wanting, perhaps because she did not want to jinx the prospect that came with it, i.e., for her to produce sons.

阿哥氏 is a transliteration of agassi “young lady,” which was a term used by maids to address their mistress or by older sisters-in-law to call a younger and unmarried woman.

I take sa 思 as a scribal error for si 媤, a phonogram used to write the vernacular Korean prefix for one's husband's family (e.g., si-abŏji “father-in-law”). Most modern Korean translations render the line as written (“If you can't stop missing your home”), which does not fit well here. A housewife in a literati family would have needed the approval of her parents-in-law to leave the house to visit her parents.

Sangsadan 相思緞 “Pining [sangsa meaning “thinking of each other”] Satin” was used for making high-class dresses sold in the Yugŭijŏn 六矣廛 [Six Licensed Stores] market, where stores were licensed to supply materials needed in the palace.

An eared pouch is a small sack with its folded bottom sticking out like ears. It was a common, decorative, and essential purse for men and women, since premodern Korean dresses didn't have pockets built into them.

It seems to refer to the string that closes the mouth of the pouch, decorated with butterfly knots.

Here it must be the fabric for her husband's dress that she wrapped in the sun-patterned cloth. A square piece of cloth with the pattern of the sun on the surface. The sun, one of the ten symbols for longevity (sipchangsaeng 十長生), embodies the yang; and the cloth containing the sun pattern was used in dresses of the kings, fathers, and husbands. (See Han'guk munhwa sangjing sajŏn p'yŏnch'an wiwŏnhoe 1992: 596–601.)

A hamper-like box made with woven bamboo-skin strips.

Pagŏn (Ch. boyan) is a word uniquely associated with the Book of Poetry, whose meaning has never been clear. It appears in several poems, e.g., “Plantains” (poem 8), “Gathering Southernwood” (poem 13), and “Cypress Boat” (poem 26). Because the lexical meaning of the first character is not uniformly clear in the different poems, and the second character is almost certainly a loan graph of another, writers have used it loosely in the sense of “for a moment; a little; hurriedly,” or sometimes like a meaningless filler. More recently, Gao Heng 高亨 (1900–1986) and Wen Yiduo 聞一多 (1899–1946) more convincingly explained that the second morpheme yan 言 is a loan graph for yan 焉 or ran 然, an adverbial-forming suffix like “-ly” in English, whereas bo 薄 is another graph of po 迫 “to hurry, force.” Together the phrase should mean “hurriedly” or “quickly” (Wen Yiduo 1948: 1.339–67, esp. 348; Gao Heng 1980: 11, 18, and 36). Korean writers’ use of the word, albeit not rare, was similarly vague. In fact, how to interpret this word was discussed more than once at King Chŏngjo's royal lectorium (kyŏngyŏn 經筵)—see “Kyŏngsa kangŭi” 經史講義 in Chŏngjo 1814: 88.18a–b, 92.29b. It is interesting that Yi Ok employs such an idiosyncratic LS word in his “Folk Vernacular.”

While t'oju 土紬 could simply mean a domestic kind of silk in contrast to those imported from China, the translation takes it as a variant spelling of t'oju 吐紬 (twist-spun silk), since the spellings were used interchangeably in some historical records. The latter appears to have been dyed in various colors to render high-end beddings, as seen in the list of items prepared for the royal wedding of King Yŏngjo英祖 (r. 1724–1776) and Queen Chŏngsun 貞純王后 (1745–1805) recorded in the Yŏngjo Chŏngsun wanghu karye togam ŭigwe 英祖貞純王后嘉禮都監儀軌 [Record of procedures of Directorate of Festive Rites (for the royal wedding of) King Yŏngjo and Queen Chŏngsun] (e.g., Togamch’ŏng 1759: 1.13b–14a). Sŏ Yugu 徐有榘 (1764–1845) mentioned in his Imwŏn simnyuk chi 林園十六志 (Chŏn'gong chi” 展功志2) that t'oju was woven with silk drawn from floss, which made it warmer and sturdier and thus more expensive than regular kinds (1983: 1.515).

Cloud-pattern satin (unmundan) was a high-end fabric used to make clothing and bedding. Yi Ik wrote in his “Mongmyŏn'ga” 木棉歌 [Cotton song], “The fine silk of Qi or the white raw silk of Lu can be done away with now; Flower embroidery and cloud patterns are but extravagant fashion” 齊紈魯縞今可捐，花繡雲紋但侈風 (1922: 8.12b–13a).

The third and fourth lines speak of the fabric of the bedding (mattress and blanket), which are more luxurious and elaborate than those she mentioned using for hers in the first two lines.

Notice Yi Ok used nong 儂 for the first-person pronoun, which evokes vernacularism in traditional Chinese literature. This appears in several places throughout the poems.

Clothes made of pobyŏng-mok (步兵木 “foot-soldier cotton”), a coarse cotton fabric, submitted by commoners in lieu of their corvée duty.

From “Kyŏnu and Chingnyŏ” 牽牛織女 [Oxherd and Weaver Maiden], i.e., the farmer's wife. Since the husband has to hoe in the drought-parched field, unable to leave home for his corveé duty, the wife at home weaves cotton to pay instead of the husband's service.

A type of peach native to Ullŭng Island, famous for its large and juicy fruit.

Peach blossoms are often associated with facial makeup, as in Chinese taohua mian (桃花面 “peach-blossom face”) or taohua zhuang (桃花粧 “peach-blossom makeup”) meaning rouge facial makeup (cf. Yuwen shi 宇文氏 [Yuwen Shiji 宇文士及 (d. 642)], “Zhuangtai ji” 粧檯記 [On dressers], Yuwen Shi 1980: 1454).

Wisŏngnyu (Ch. Weichengliu) gets its name from Weicheng (modern Xianyang 咸陽 in Shaanxi Province), where willow trees are famous, especially after Wang Wei's 王維 (699–759) “Weicheng qu” 渭城曲 [A song at Weicheng]. Chŏng Yagyong identified Wisŏngnyu with chengliu 檉柳 (Tamarix chinensis) and said that it is called nŭngsu pŏdŭl (菱殊柳) in Korea (Chŏng Yagyong, “Tap Yi p'ansŏ (Sisu)” 答李判書時秀 [Reply to Minister Yi (Sisu)], in Chŏng Yagyong 1934–38: 1.18.29b). But chengliu is in fact different from nŭngsu pŏdŭl (Salix pseudolasiogyne), though they look similar enough to be mistaken for each other.

 This entire quatrain is redolent of Wei Zhuang's 韋莊 (836–910) ci poem to the tune pattern “Nü guanzi” 女冠子 [The Daoist nun] describing the face of a woman seen in a dream: “Peach-blossom face, just like before; Always knitted, those willow-leaf eyebrows” 依舊桃花面，頻低柳葉眉 (Zhao Chongzuo 趙崇祚 1782: 3.5b).

 Hwan 歡 (Ch. huan) is an affectionate second-person pronoun between lovers and was representatively used in a well-known line from a Music Bureau ballad: “Ever since I parted with you, dear, my cosmetic case has never opened” 自從別歡來，奩器了不開 (“Ziye ge” 子夜歌 [Ziye's songs] under “Wusheng gequ” [Songs in Wu sounds] 吳聲歌曲 in Guo Maoqian's 郭茂倩 (ca. 1094) Yuefu shiji 樂府詩集 (1998: 501).

 Traditional socks, made with sewn cotton, are often likened to melon seeds for their shape and called oessi pŏsŏn.

 Outside of the southeast corner of the palace in Hanyang—the modern-day Sagandong, Chunghaktong, and Songhyŏndong areas in Chongno, where there used to be many brothels.

 Court seamstresses (ch'imsŏnbi) of the Sangŭiwŏn 尙衣院 (Royal Clothing Office) were also often drafted to entertain court guests and even went outside the palace to work as courtesans. Being at the court in charge of dresses, they wore the trendiest clothes and led the fashion trends of Seoul (Kang Chihyŏn 2009: 103).

 Here the melon-seed-shaped white socks stand for an ordinary lady's attire, which may be mocked by the fashon-forward courtesans at the brothels in Pyŏkchangdong.

 A bamboo-joint hairpin is made of expensive materials, usually jade or silver, shaped like a bamboo branch with nodes. Hairpins were often further decorated with small metal butterflies, birds, and such at their heads.

 Ch'ohye 草鞋 are straw shoes (K. chipsin); kŭm ch'ohye 錦草鞋 (lit. “silk straw shoes”) might refer to similarly shaped shoes but made of silk. There were ch'ohye made of hemp, arrowroot, mulberry bark, and even paper. Several records in the Sejong sillok report of the court's sumptuary policy that prohibited leather ch'ohye (p'ich'ohye 皮草鞋) from being worn by those below their social class (e.g., Sejong sillok, Sejong 8 (1426)/1/26). Therefore, the name “straw shoes” here must have been more about the shape than the material. In mid-Chosŏn, decorative ch'ohye became popular, according to a record in the Chungjong sillok 中宗實錄, in which the king bemoaned that, despite his efforts to eliminate the trend of profligacy, things like “gold-inlaid ch'ohye (kŭmsŏn ch'ohye 金線草鞋)” were still very much popular among courtesans outside the palace (Chungjong sillok, Chungjong 36 (1540)/6/1).

 Hangna 杭羅 is also written as 亢羅, a kind of gauzy silk often used as fabric for summer clothes.

 These seem to be trinkets worn outside of the dress.

 1 Ch’ŏndo mŏri (“heavenly-peach hair”) aappears in the p'ansori “Hŭngbo ka” [Song of Hŭngbo]. Ch’ŏndo usually means nectarines in modern Korean, but in this case, it would be a mythical peach—as in Tao Qian's 陶潛 (365–427) “Peach Blossom Land” (“Taohuayuan ji” 桃花源記), the shape of which was used in ladies’ hairdos. Late Chosŏn yangban women wore elaborate hairdos and headdresses, and this might have involved adding wigs or false-hair attachments. Yi Ok mentions in another piece “Saengch'egye” 生菜髻 [Vegetable hairdo] that the ladies roaming the streets of Seoul wore ch’ŏndogye (Pongsŏng munyŏ [鳳城文餘 “Leftover writing at Ponghwa”] 奉化), collected in Kim Ryŏ’s 金鑢 Tamjŏng ch'ongsŏ 譚庭叢書. See Yi Ok 2009c: 247.

 Chokturi is also a women's headpiece that is quite familiar to modern Koreans for being worn in traditional wedding ceremonies. It was perhaps much smaller than the Heavenly-peach hair knot (ch’ŏndogye). Chokturi came from the Mongolian tradition during the Koryŏ-Yuan period and was possibly worn by married women, at least in Chosŏn (Kim Chiyŏn and Hong Nayŏng 1999: 243–58). Heavily decorated hairpieces (kach'e 加髢, or tari) like ch’ŏndogye became an issue financially and in terms of personal safety in late Chosŏn. See Yi Tŏngmu's 李德懋 (1741–1793), Sa sojŏl 士小節 [Quotidian precepts for literati] (n.d.: 3.515). King Yŏngjo had thus issued an edict to ban the wearing of decorative hairpieces (Yŏngjo sillok 英組實錄, Yŏngjo 30 (1756)/1/16), and Chŏngjo reinforced it (Chŏngjo sillok 正祖實錄, Chŏngjo 12 (1788)/10/3). What was allowed instead was chokturi.

 “Eastside neighborhood” must indicate the Sindangdong 神堂洞 area of Seoul. Sindangdong is just outside the East Gate (Tongdaemun 東大門), where shamans used to live as a community (hence the name sindang “shrine”). Shamans (mudang 巫堂) in Chosŏn were mainly women (see Yi Kit'ae 2016).

 Noryang is modern Noryangjin 露梁津, across the Han River from Map'o 麻浦 in Seoul. After the eviction of all shamans from Hanyang during King Chŏngjo's reign (Chŏngjo sillok, Chŏngjo 0 (1776)/5/22), a large population of shamans moved to Noryangjin, across the river from the city. See Kim T'aegon, “Min'gan sinang” [Folk religion], Tongjak ku chi 銅雀區誌 [Gazetteer of Tongjak District] 1994: 94 (cited in Yi Kit'ae 2016: 242).

 Chesŏkpang (帝釋房 “room of chesŏk”) is a metonymical name for shamans and their shrine, chesŏk being a generic term for shaman gods. The term itself was of Buddhist origin but by late Chosŏn it was widely adopted by shamans to refer to their gods (Buswell 2007: 238.) In particular, the Samsin halmi, a mythical grandmother who is in charge of assigning babies, is called Samsin chesŏk 三神帝釋.

 Pongsŏnhwa, or touch-me-not (Impatiens balsamina), is vernacularized as pongsunga in modern Korean. Its petals are collected, crushed, and wrapped around the fingers to color one's nails. Touch-me-nots usually bloom in late summer.

 The slight difference in the syntactic structures of Line 3 and Line 4 (爪甲靑 [fingernail turning green] and 作紅爪甲 [turning fingernails red]) is partially motivated by rhyming between yŏp 葉 in Line 2 and kap 甲.

 Ramie is called mosi in vernacular Korean. Similar to linen, mosi is particularly favored as a fabric for summer clothes. Chin'an has traditionally been famous for producing fine ramie cloth.

 Kkaekki is a type of sewing that hides the stitches between the outer and inner layers. It was used for more formal and ritual dresses, as well as summer dresses, made of fine and starched silk (Han'guk minjok munhwa tae paekkwa sajŏn, s.v. “Kkaekki”).

 Chokturi (see n. 111) is worn by a married woman. Even though she would have her hair in a chignon, she is saying that someone may tease her for looking as though unmarried if her chokturi falls off.

 According to Xu Guang's 徐廣 (352–425) annotation to pibi 皮幣, a kind of currency made of white-deer skin circulated during Han Wudi's 漢武帝 reign (156–87 BCE), chagwi (Ch. zihui) 紫繢 is also written chogwi (Ch. zaohui) 藻繢, which means to embroider in five colors (see “Pingzhun shu” 平準書 in Sima Qian 1959: 80.1426). The latter, chogwi/zihui, is more widely used, as it was also in Chosŏn poetry. It is possible that Yi Ok chose to write a known word in a more novel way.

 Pong 峰 is a phoneticization of the vernacular Korean word ponguri “(flower) bud.”

 Tan as in songgŭmdan is a suffix for layered silk. I could not find information on songgŭmdan except for one record in the Ilsŏngnok 日省錄 [Daily reflective record of the court] (Chŏngjo 10 (1786)/5/13) in which it was used to make various items in the coffin of Prince Munhyo 文孝世子 (Sun 㬀, 1782–1786), meaning this was a high-grade fabric. The record indicated the color was light green (yŏndu 連豆), perhaps as the name songgŭm “pine-gold” suggests, which would have fit the season (the third month—roughly around April according to the Gregorian Calendar).

 Sa as in kwangwŏlsa is a suffix for thin silk, appropriate for summer (“the fifth month”) clothes. Sometimes written with a homophonous character kwang 光, kwangwŏlsa satin is found in descriptions of nicely dressed ladies, as in Ch'unhyang chŏn [Song of Ch'unhyang] n.d.: 1b.

 Honam is the southwest region, i.e., the Chŏlla area. Here it appears that the poetic persona went out to the market, buying different expensive fabrics each season, so the comb-seller from the south at the market thought she was from a wealthy household.

 Kua (口兒) is Yi Ok's transliteration of the vernacular Korean kkwari “bladder cherry” (< Middle Korean skwuali). In Sino-Korean, most texts (medical or otherwise) write sanjang 酸漿, as did the Chinese Materia Medica (Bencao gangmu 本草綱目). The Hyangyak chipsŏngbang 鄉藥集成方 [Collected prescriptions of local medicine] (first printed in 1433) noted a local name 叱科阿里 transcribing skwu.a.li (Yu Hyot'ong 兪孝通 et al. 1942: 79.619); the Pangyak happ'yŏn 方藥合編 [Collected and edited prescribed medications] (1885) by Hwang Toyŏn 黃度淵 recorded a native name ᄭᅮ 아리 skwu.a.li (1885: 16b). Wrenching out the inside of the cherry without breaking its skin in order to blow the air in and then squeeze it out, making a noise, was a popular pastime for children.

 Stirred by the bladder cherry, the speaker associates the scene with her life. “Spring wind,” or pom param, insinuates amorous feelings (comparable to spring fever), which prompted her to remember the time when she and her husband were in their room together, when life was round and full (wŏnman 圓滿) just like the blown-up bladder cherry.

 Chungbaekkye 中白桂, commonly called chungbaekki in vernacular Korean, is a kind of stir-fried sweet made of flour kneaded with honey or grain syrup. Hŏ Kyun's 許筠 (1569–1618) Tomun taejak 屠門大嚼 [Smacking lips loudly at a butcher's door] (collected in Hŏ Kyun n.d.: 5.557–558) writes it as chungbakkye 中朴桂; Yi Ŭibong's 李義鳳 (1733–1801) Pugwŏn nok 北轅錄 [Record of a travel to the north] (2008: 3.13b) has chunggye 中桂. It may have been related to cinnamon (kye as in kyep'i 桂皮, cassia cinnamon), but none of the records of its recipe mention cinnamon. According to Yi Ik (“Manmul mun-Hollye pakkye” 萬物門-婚禮朴桂 [Myriad things-Wedding pakkye]), pakkye 朴桂 was a domestic sweet known since the Koryŏ period, though it may have stemmed from Chinese junü 粔籹 mentioned in the Chu ci 楚辭, and it was customary for the bride's family to send pakkye to the groom's family after the wedding (n.d.: 4.81a). Lady Yi Pinghŏgak 憑虛閣李氏 (1759–1824) also stated that a wedding could not take place without pakkye (2001: 709–10). It may be that the speaker hates Chungbaekki because it is too sweet or because it is associated with her own wedding.

 Iganggo is one of the typical hard liquors domestic to Korea (also known as Igangju 梨薑酒). As the name suggests, it is made by soaking ground pear and ginger in soju (燒酒, distilled wine) boiled with cinnamon and cumin (“Ch'isŏn-Yangju” 治膳-釀酒 [Food-Wine Making] in Hong Mansŏn 洪萬選 and Yu Chungnim 柳重臨, 1766: 6.29).

 Blooming Abalone (hwabok) is abalone cut in the shape of a flower, usually sold dried, and was considered a delicacy. Whereas the first two lines are about things the speaker is not in favor of—both are strong in flavor—the third and fourth lines list those she finds most palatable.

 Peaches ripen in the sixth month. Several records of the Sixth-month Peaches being presented to the throne can be found in the Chungjong sillok (e.g., Chungjong 24 (1529)/7/14).

 Sweetfish (ŭnŏ 銀魚, Plecoglossus altivelis) is also known as Ayu and has a long silvery body measuring about 20 to 30 cm. Living widely in Korea, Japan, and China, sweetfish are mentioned in Chosŏn literature as a seasonal delicacy sent as gifts or tributes to the court, though they are sometimes confused with torumuk (Arctoscopus japonicas).

 It is not clear why white teeth are hateable when tansun hoch'i 丹脣皓齒 (Ch. danchun haochi) “cinnabar lips and bright white teeth” are frequently praised as a quality of beautiful women. It may have something to do with Mei Sheng's line in the “Seven Stimuli” which compared “bright white teeth and ax-shaped eyebrows (of beautiful women)” to “axes that sever the heavenly nature (of men).” This allusion appeared in the “Third Criticism” (see n. 36). Otherwise, it could just be an aversion to something too loudly perfect.

 In the Kyujanggak edition kang 玒 is written chang 粧, which the translation assumes. A changdo 粧刀 is a small pocket knife, often ornamental for a woman as a symbol of her will to protect her chastity for her husband.

 Peach blossoms and pear flowers are representative images of colorful gardens or of spring in classical poetry; e.g., Liu Shen 劉詵 (1268–1350) wrote in “Three poems from the leisurely spring-summer of gengwu year” 庚午春夏閒居即事三首 (2): “Peach blossoms and pear flowers fight to fill the garden; Around Gold-dust flowers and crabapples bees and birds are buzzing” 桃花梨花爭滿園, 金沙玉棠蜂鳥喧 (Gu Sili 顧嗣立 1782: 2.15.108b). But they were also thought of as somewhat tacky and flamboyant. Xu Ji's 徐積 (1028–1130) “A song of viburnum flower” 瓊花歌 writes: “Apricot flowers are tackily seductive and pear flowers are crude; Willow flowers are slightly drunken and plum flowers are aloof; Peach flowers are not upright and their appearance is gaudy; Peonies are not gracious and their bodies are loose” 杏花俗艷梨花粗, 柳花細碎梅花疏. 桃花不正其容冶, 牡丹不謹其體舒 (1782: 2.2b). This particular line recalls Yang Wanli's 楊萬里 (1124–1206) line in his “Three poems written on the road to Wan'an” 萬安道中書事三首 (3), which reads, “Peach blossoms leave light touches of rouge; Only to yield to pear petals’ snowy skin” 桃花薄相點燕脂, 輸與梨花雪作肌 (1782: 15.4b).

 Notice that Yi Ok is using the colloquial Mandarin in this line.

 “The Airs of Zheng” (Zhengfeng 鄭風) and “The Airs of Wei” (Weifeng 衛風) refer to the two chapters of “Airs of the States” section in the Book of Poetry. As mentioned in note 34 in the “Third Criticism,” they are traditionally known to contain songs representative of lewdness reflecting the indecent regimes of the states of Zheng and Wei.

 Whereas the first two sections were modes in the voice of a newly wed wife, these “Dissolute Mode” songs are in the voice of a courtesan.

 Camellia oil (tongbaek-yu 冬柏油) was the most common oil used to make the hair neat and shiny.

 Chuk, though literally meaning “bamboo,” was a generic term for tobacco pipes, for the bodies of simple pipes were made of bamboo tubes (also called yŏnjuk 煙竹 “smoking pipe”). Tongnae is in South Kyŏngsang Province, now a part of Pusan Metropolitan City, and was famous for producing brassware and white-brass (made from nickel and copper) tobacco pipes. In the eighteenth century, more luxurious pipes were made in Tongnae, which used silver or mother-of-pearl lacquer. Expensive pipes were purchased by high officials to be used as gifts. Sŏ Yugu in his Imwŏn simnyuk chi stated that Tongnae produced good tobacco-related goods, including tobacco pipes, because tobacco smoking was transmitted from Japan (“Sŏmyong chi” 贍用志 3, 1983, 2.449). See also An Taehoe's study on tobacco consumption in late Chosŏn (2015: esp. 168–72).

 This refers to the characters 壽 (su “longevity”) and 福 (pok “happiness”) engraved on the silver (or white-brass) portion of the pipe—perhaps the mouthpiece or the tobacco holder. It must have been a typical high-end pipe. One version of Ch'unhyang chŏn (manuscript version collected by Yi Myŏngsŏn, often abbreviated as Igobon) mentions “Silver Pusan pipes engraved ‘Longevity and Happiness’ and Kimhae pipes” as exquisite tobacco pipes. (An Taehoe 2015: esp. 168–72). Yi Ok left several writings about tobacco and tobacco smoking, including Yŏn kyŏng [Classic of tobacco], where he left a lengthy paragraph on tobacco pipes. Silver pipes engraved with “Longevity” and “Happiness” are also mentioned there (2009a: 434–37).

 A fan-stud (sŏnch'u 扇錘) is a small ornamental stone hanging from the bottom of the handle of a hand-held fan.

 It is apparent that these lines describe lovers’ banter: The man playfully takes away the woman's ring and then gives her the jade stud from his fan, upon which she teases, asking if he is keeping the fan to seduce another woman.

 Sŏjŏng and tonggak could be any walled (kak 閣) or unwalled (chŏng 亭) pavilion, though there are a quite a few pavilions called by the same names appearing in both Chinese and Korean literature. In this poem, however, the couplet specifically invokes a song, perhaps in sijo: “Seysa non kumsamchek iwo sayngay non cwu ilpay ’la, seceng kangsangwel i twulyessi polkkanontuy, tonggak ey selcwungmay taliko wanwel cangchwi holila” (世事ᄂᆞᆫ 琴三尺이오 生涯ᄂᆞᆫ 酒一盃라 西亭江上月이 두렷시 ᄇᆞᆰ가ᄂᆞᆫ듸 東閣에 雪中梅 다리고 翫月長醉 ᄒᆞ리라 “Matters of the world are a three-foot zither; Life is a cup of wine; Moon over the river, western gazebo; Shines so brightly; Accompanying the plum blossom in the snow by the eastern pavilion; I shall enjoy the moon and stay long drunk”). The song as introduced above is collected in the Ch’ŏnggu yŏngŏn 青丘永言 (Kim Ch’ŏnt'aek 金天澤 1930: 79), a collection of sijo songs compiled by a commoner-singer Kim Ch’ŏnt'aek (ca. 1680), as well as in other song collections such as the Kagok wŏllyu 歌曲源流 and Haedong akchang 海東樂章. Plenty of examples suggest that the quatrain came to be well-liked as early as the eighteenth century and continued to be popular until the twentieth century. Hwang Yunsŏk's poem “Hŭijŭng Poga” 戱贈福娥 (1829: 2.22b) and Yi Hakkyu's 李學逵 (1770–1835) “Ch'angdŏk kung chŏn yakp'o” 昌德宮前藥舖 (2002: 568) both mention “Sŏjŏng kangwŏl” 西亭江月 as a song (kok 曲 or ka 歌). In the p'ansori Ch'unhyang ka (Wanp'an version), Yi Mongnyong responds to Ch'unhyang's “Ch'unmyŏn kok” 春眠曲 [Spring languor tune] on her seven-string zither with the very same quatrain. Hong Myŏnghŭi 洪命憙 (1888–1968) wrote in his novel Im Kkŏkchŏng a scene where Han Ŏn describes singing the “Sesa kŭmsamch’ŏk” 世事琴三尺 as a sijo ch'ang 詩調唱 (Hong Myŏnghŭi, Im Kkŏkchŏng, vol. 7, redacted ed. [Sagyejŏl, 2019]). Finally, the quatrain in sijo form is still transmitted as a farmers’ song in the Chŏlla area today (appointed as South Chŏlla Province Intangible Cultural Heritage 41 in 2006; Han'guk minsok tae paekkwa sajŏn, s.v. “Sesa nŭn kŭm samch’ŏk iyo”). As is the case with many sijo songs, this song appears to have its origin in a preexisting Sinitic poem (“世事琴三尺, 萬事酒一盃, 西亭江上月, 東閣雪中梅”). But in this case, neither the authorship nor the completeness of the poem is certain. The poem is found in an earlier chrestomathy, Ch'ugu 推句 [Select verses], a poetry primer collecting pentasyllabic couplets paired into quatrains but not as a complete quatrain and instead as two separate couplets each paired with other couplets and comprising two separate poems. It appears that the two couplets either were one quatrain that were split later or separate couplets that were later joined. The Ch'ugu was widely circulated in late Chosŏn and the twentieth century, and all extant copies of the Ch'ugu are undatable manuscripts. But as the traditional catalogs, including those in the Kosa ch'waryo 攷事撮要 (1568, 1576, and 1585, originally compiled by Ŏ Sukkwŏn 魚叔權 in 1554) record its printing blocks kept in various regions of Chosŏn, it is possible that the Ch'ugu was already popular as a primer in the mid-Chosŏn period (see Kim Ch'iu 2007). Ko Chŏngsuk (2018) has claimed that the quatrain was by Chŏn Mallyŏng 全萬齡 (licentiate in 1486), but I have not found any further corroborating evidence.

 It is not clear what the complaint was about in these two lines. If the poem in the first two lines was so widely known and sung, she as a courtesan must have been requested to sing it all the time. Because she found the tune and lyric hackneyed and tedious, she could have felt it a nuisance to have to sing it again.

 A trichiliocosm (samch’ŏnju, lit. “three-thousand pearls”) is a women's accessory made of three large beads (usually of gemstones or pearls) connected with colorful strings and tassles. The three beads represent the Buddhist concept of the world containing three thousand worlds within itself (samch’ŏn segye [三千世界 “Three-thousand galaxies”]). It was a luxurious accessory item usually worn by court ladies (i.e., queens and princesses) (Kang Min'gi 2006: 199). But as the famous Sin Yunbok's 申潤福 (b. 1758) painting Miindo 美人圖 “Portrait of a beauty” shows, courtesans also wore it by the mid-Chosŏn period. By the time Yi Ok wrote this, a trichillocosm pendant may not have been too expensive, as the poem implies.

 The Tano (Ch. Duanwu) Festival is on the fifth day of the fifth month by the lunar calendar; people make fans on Tano day and give them away as gifts. Pakswae would mean “beat loudly as if breaking something into pieces,” but in this case the action could be tapping lightly because the tune beaten to is kyemyŏn mode, which is a slow-paced, sad mode.

 The kyemyŏn-mode started in the early period of Korean music as a pentatonic variation to the default p'yŏng mode (平調). In later Chosŏn it came to refer to the technique of singing slow and sad songs (Jang 2014: xv–xx; Han'guk minsok tae paekkwa sajŏn, s.v. “Kyemyŏn cho”).

 The phrase chi a cha 知我者 certainly reminds one of the line from the Book of Poetry, “Those who knew me, Said I was sad at heart; Those who did not know me, Said I was seeking for something” 知我者，謂我心憂，不知我者，謂我何求 (“Shuli” 黍離, poem 65, translation by Legge). Confucius had also uttered it when bemoaning that no one understood him (“But there is Heaven—that knows me” 知我者其天乎! [Analects 14: 35, translation by Legge]), after which it became a set phrase to mean “one who truly knows me.” “To know” here thus means “to understand” or “to appreciate.”

 This quatrain is connected to the next one, in the persona of an aged courtesan, Ch'uwŏl.

 Chŭkkŭm 卽今 was interchangeable with chigŭm 只今 “now” in Chosŏn LS, which is now used in modern Korean. Ch'uwŏl (lit. “autumn moon”) could be a common courtesan's name, but it is very likely the name of a real courtesan who lived in Seoul and was celebrated among literati for her artistic talent. The “Ch'ugi imno sŏl kosa” 秋妓臨老說故事 [Courtesan Ch'u tells stories in her old years] in the Ch’ŏnggu yadam 靑丘野談 (Ch’ŏnggu yadam n.d.: 2.63–64) records that she was from Kongju 公州 and was selected into the Bureau of Royal Attire at the court for her singing and dancing, as well as for her beauty. She was among the cohort of singers and musicians in Seoul, such as Yi Sech'un 李世春 and Kim Ch’ŏlsŏk 金哲石, along with other courtesans Maewŏl 梅月 and Kyesŏm 桂蟾, under the patronage of a wealthy literatus-official Sim Yong 沈鏞 (1711–1788) (see “Yu P'aeyŏng p'ungnyu sŏngsa” 遊浿營風流盛事 [Dazzling panache while roaming around P'yŏngyang], Chŏnggu yadam n.d.: 8.38–40). Hong Sinyu 洪愼猷 (b. 1722) also wrote a poem “Ch'uwŏl ka” 秋月歌 [Song of Ch'uwŏl] about her. It is not clear whether Yi Ok knew Ch'uwŏl personally (see Im Hyŏngt'aek 1992: 292–95).

 Kap'ae could be a personal name, perhaps one of a courtesan like Ch'uwŏl, which renders the line syntactically parallel to the first line: “Ch'uwŏl is old now; Kap'ae has passed years ago.” But, unlike the case of Ch'wol, I cannot find a record of an actual person whose name was Kap'ae. We could perhaps surmise that Yi Ok used a fictitious (or only unknown to us) name of a courtesan, but this seems less fitting for the following lines of the poem (“With what karma did Mun'gun live; I don't trust that poem”). Insofar as the “poem” is a woman bemoaning her husband's change of heart because she has aged (see nn. 152 and 153), this line should be taken to mean the evanescence of beauty and youth rather than courtesans’ lives in general. P'ae is hwanp'ae 環佩, the jade decorating a woman's belt, which later came also to refer to beautiful women. Here, the verb kwi 歸 means for a woman to get married.

 Mun'gun is Zhuo Wenjun 卓文君, the wife of the famous poet-musician Sima Xiangru (mentioned in n. 63) of the Han dynasty.

 The story of Sima Xiangru and Zhuo Wenjun had been emblematic of the love between a husband and wife, who fall in love at first sight and stay together against all odds. According to the Xijing zaji 西京雜記, when Sima Xiangru sought to take a concubine later in life, Zhuo Wenjun composed a poem, “Baitou yin” 白頭吟 [Song of white hairs], in which she lamented that her husband had grown distant because she became old, whereas she herself had always wanted a true and lasting love. This seems to be the poem that Ch'uwŏl says she doesn't believe. The transmitted texts of Zhuo Wenjun's song were written in a poetic form that was not extant at the time of her life but came to be well circulated in the vernacular literature of the Yuan and Ming periods (West and Idema 1994: 38).

 Other versions (Yerim chapp'ae in the National Library, Chapsi in Sungkyunkwan University, and Iŏn chip in the Academy of Korean Studies) have ŭi 疑 “to suspect, doubt” for ŏn 言 “to say.” The translation follows the former, but without changing the character it could still mean that men at the brothel said it idly or jokingly. “We” (nongbae) here means courtesans, as the poetic persona is still Ch'uwŏl.

 “Being densely seated” describes the courtesans sitting next to customers, entertaining them all through the night. Ogyŏng 五更 [the fifth night double-hours] means muya 戊夜, i.e., from 3:00 to 5:00 a.m.

 The speaker is being sardonic. With all the grandiose airs the men like to put on, as if the courtesans should know and respect who they are without being told, they are in fact low-level so-and-sos, like a constable or an adjunct chief of some office, at best.

 “Yŏngsan kok,” also known as “Yŏngsan hoesang” 靈山會上 [At the assembly on Vulture peak], is a popular musical suite based on the scene where Sakyamuni taught his disciples on Yŏngch'wi Mountain 靈鷲山 [Vulture Peak] near Rājagṛha (modern Rajgir, India). Perhaps having started as temple music, it was adapted to accompany the “Ch’ŏyong mu” 處容舞 [Dance of Ch’ŏyong] in the court ritual of exorcism (narye 儺禮), which in turn developed into various forms of music, sung or played on instruments, outside the palace in unofficial contexts. See Sŏng Hyŏn's 成俔 (1439–1504) Yongjae ch'onghwa 慵齋叢話 (Sŏng Hyŏn 1909, 10: 584) and (Yi Nŭnghwa 1915: 33–34). By the later Chosŏn, it had become one of the most favored tunes at literati gatherings (Song Chiwŏn 2012: 181–209).

 Yŏnggam is a term of respect to address men of a certain status. It originally addressed officials of ministerial ranks (third rank or above) who were allowed above the hall at the palace (tangsanggwan 堂上官) but soon became a way to assume a social position for the one addressed and thus to confer esteem.

 The term hwarang (花郞 “flower youth”) came from the palace congregation of young boys trained in music, morals, and martial skills. By the late Chosŏn, however, the word came to refer to male shamans, playboys, or guardian lovers of prostitutes (Pratt and Rutt 1999: 178). See also Yi Sugwang, “Kiye” 技藝, in Yi Sugwang 1614: 18.17a.

 月矣 (SK. wŏrŭi) is an idu-style spelling of tari, “(women's) tress hairpiece or headdress,” in which the first character (月) is a semantogram (tal “moon”) and the second (矣) a phonogram (i) (see Yi Sangsin 2013: 7–41, esp. 19–20). Yukchin (lit. “six garrison posts”) refers to the six forts in northernmost Hamgyŏng Province, guarding against the Jurchens, for which it became a nickname for Hamgyŏng Province. The area was known to produce good tari.

 Perhaps cinnabar was used for the luster.

 Crow-blue is dark blue.

 加里麻 (SK. karima) is a transliteration of the word karima, karia, or kanilma in sinographs. Also known as ch'a'aek (遮額 “forehead cover”) a karima is a flat-square piece of headdress that women wore as a blind and decorative hat. Yi Kŭngik 李肯翊 (1736–1806) explains, “Ladies of our country take two-foot-and-two-inch-wide black or purple silk cloth, fold it in half to make it double-layered, paste a thick piece of paper inside, and wear it. It covers the head from the forehead and drapes in the back to touch the shoulders, being called ch'a'aek” 我國婦人，以玄錦或紫錦全幅二尺二寸，中屈之爲兩重，以厚紙貼其裏以戴之. 從額覆頂垂于後，以加肩背，謂之遮額 (1913: 890). Yi Kyugyŏng 李圭景 (b. 1788) wrote, “When it comes to government slaves and courtesans, they wear black coarse-cloth karima; medical maiden, black silk karima. Its shape is like wearing a book box on top of the headdress” 至於丘賜、妓女, 著黑褐加尼麽. 醫女則著黑緞加尼麽. 其狀如冊匣戴髢髻上 (“Insa pyŏn–Poksik ryu–Susik” 人事篇–服食類–首飾 [Human affairs–Food and attire–Headdresses], 1959: 15.476a).

 Chang here must be akchang 樂章 “musical scores.” “Flowers in the rear garden,” or “Hujŏnghwa,” is from the “Yushu houtinghua” 玉樹後庭花, a melody from the court of the last emperor of the Chen (Chen houzhu 陳後主, 560–589), which is introduced in the “Yuezhi” 樂志 of the Sui shu 隋書. Having been composed for his concubines notwithstanding the decline of the regime, it came to be known as a song of debauchery in China. Du Mu 杜牧 (803–852) wrote in “Bo Qinhuai” 泊秦淮 [Mooring in Qinhuai River], “Singing girls [prostitutes] don't know the lament of the fallen country; Still singing Houtinghua across the river” 商女不知亡國恨, 隔江猶唱後庭花 (Peng Dingqiu 彭定求 1960: 523.5980); and Li Bai 李白 has a line, “The emperor fell into the Jingyang Well; Who would sing ‘Yushu houtinghua’?” 天子龍沈景陽井, 誰歌玉樹後庭花 in his “Jinling ge” 金陵歌 [Song of Jinling] (Peng Dingqiu 1960: 166). Mainstream Confucian literature in Chosŏn also associated it with decadence, as exemplified by An Chŏngbok who compared the degeneracy of King Kyŏngsun 敬順王 (d. 978), the last king of Silla, to Hujŏnghwa (An Chŏngbok n.d.: 5B:31a). But “Hujŏnghwa”—whether or not it was the very same song—was a widely popular number sung by courtesans in late Chosŏn. One of Yi Ok's writings, “Kaja Song Silsol chŏn” 歌者宋蟋蟀傳 [Biography of the singer Song Silsol] collected in the Wanyŏk Yi Ok chŏnjip (Silsi haksa kojŏn munhak yŏn’guhoe 2009, 4: 251–53), depicts a famous singer singing to the tune of “Hujŏnghwa”; the p'ansori titles “Simch’ŏng ka” 沈淸歌 and “Sugung ka” 水宮歌 also mention it. An early twentieth-century newspaper article (“Kim Chŏngp'il ŭi ch'osang” [A portrait of Kim Chŏngp'il], Sidae ilbo, October 13, 1924) compared the beauty of a woman who became a media sensation for being convicted for poisoning her husband to that of a courtesan singing “Hujŏnghwa” (Yi Ch’ŏl 2010: 213–14). Considering that the song was frequently employed in popular literature, especially in zaju 雜劇 [miscellaneous plays], as a northern tune (beiqu 北曲) in the Xianlü 仙侶 mode, there is a good possibility that this song was rediscovered and became popular among late Chosŏn literati through the works of popular literature imported from China.

 P'yŏn is a generic word for literary pieces. Favored as the most beautiful place to visit, the Kŭmgang Mountains feature most often in literary works describing travels and jaunts accompanied by drinking and gathering.

 Kyedae 桂隊, also colloquially known as kidae, designates the bands of musicians accompanying and often convening shamans’ rituals (kut). Serving in the hereditary occupation, kyedae musicians were transmitters of shamanistic songs (Kim Hŏnsŏn 2006: esp. chap. 2). This line is thus connected with poem 10 above.

 Ch’ŏngsup'i 靑綉皮 (lit. “azure-embroidered skin”) could mean an official's coat made with embroidered azure fabric, but it is more likely the name of an expensive kind of chicken. Yi Ok mentions Ch’ŏngsup'i in his “Tam cho” 談鳥 [On birds], Paegunp'il 白雲筆 (2009b: 346), listing Chŏngsup'i 靑繡皮 as a rare breed of chicken that one shouldn't bother to raise at home. Here the first couplet appears to suggest that petty officers are stingy with money at brothels, whereas higher-ranking officers prefer having expensive delicacies on their tables.

 Hwabang 花房 (lit. “flower room”) is another name for a courtesan house.

 T'ongch’ŏng 通淸, narrowly defined, is a process qualifying the integrity of those who would serve in the Three Bureaus (Samsa 三司)—the Saganwŏn (司諫院 “Institute of Remonstrators”), Sahŏnbu (司憲部 “Department of the Censorate”), and Hongmun'gwan (弘文館 “Office of Advancement of Literature”)—whose operations included policy censorship and relating remonstrances to the king. The word “approving integrity” must have been coined because incorruptible integrity was the foremost criterion for people to work in these institutions. In mid- and late-Chosŏn society, the word had come to mean “to be allowed to serve in key government positions,” as these positions were given crucial powers in politic. Concubinary sons (sŏŏl 庶孼) and Middle People (chungin 中人), were by regulation not allowed to serve in these positions and therefore launched political moves later to advance their rights, called the T'ongch’ŏng undong 通淸運動 (see S. J. Kim 2008).

 Sadang 社堂 (also written as 寺黨, 寺堂, 捨堂, or 祠堂 based on homophony) was a Buddhist term referring to laywomen, i.e., female lay practitioners (Skt. upāsikā, or ubai 憂婆夷); kŏsa 居士 was the pairing term for sadang, designating male lay practitioners (Skt. upāsaka, or ubasae 優婆塞) (Yi Kŭngik 1913: 13.898). Especially since the beginning of Chosŏn when Buddhist temples were under oppression, many Buddhist monks had to retire from the priesthood but could not leave temples completely. They came to form a sizable lay community living near the temples (physically and conceptually), doing temple-related work and performing services for the community (Yi Chongsŏ 2015). Meanwhile, entertainers also assumed the names and used the pretense of religious services (Yi Kyŏngjin 2013). By mid-Chosŏn, sadang was a common name for women who traveled to sell their singing and dancing, as well as prostitution, to low-class folks. As a group they were called sadang-p'ae, and each member was accompanied by a kŏsa, a male protector somewhat similar to a procurer today. This has something to do with the fact that most rituals and festivals were held around or in connection with Buddhist temples. Temples were intimately involved with the lives of the commoners and general public and provided venues for most ceremonies and rituals, from funerals and memorial services to town festivals. In actuality, most such performances and service were held in marketplaces, without any actual connection with temples, but performers usually made sure to pretend that their business was to help temples and was thus for a good karma. These festivals and performances were also called uba uhŭi 優婆遊戲 or ubahŭi 優婆戲 (cf. Ilsŏngnok 日省錄, Chŏngjo 20 (1796)/1/15).

 I take this as describing kkŏngnŭn mok (꺾는목, lit. “breaking throat”), a technique in traditional singing, with which a singer breaks a note and jumps to a higher or lower tone.

 Mimicking the sound of “Namu amit'a pul” 南無阿彌陀佛, a common Buddhist invocation meaning “Praise to Amitābha Buddha.” Here, a near-paronomastic play is attempted, for the Sino-Korean phrase “na-mu-a-ae-mi” in the poem would mean “How could I never love a beauty?”

 “Grand Harmony Platter,” or T'angp'yŏngch'ae, is a typical banquet dish in which ch’ŏngp'o (muk, or jellified green-bean starch, also seen in the “Third Criticism” above) is mixed with meat (pork or beef), dropwort, seaweed, and other vegetables to make a variety of colors. The invention of T'angp'yŏngch'ae is often attributed to King Yŏngjo with a story that the king invited ministers of all political factions to a court banquet and served them T'angp'yŏngch'ae in order to admonish them to cease the increasing factionalism that insisted on their political tones (saek “colors”) (cf. Han'guk minjok munhwa tae paekkwa sajŏn, s.v. “T'angp'yŏngch'ae”). This suggests that the name is derived from the king's well-known Grand Harmony Policy (T'angpyŏng ch'aek 蕩平策). But, according to the food historian Chu Yŏngha, such an etymological narrative came out no earlier than 1940, nor is there a historical record corroborating Yŏngjo's gastronomical politics (2013: 206–14).

 Pangmunju gets its name from pangmun “prescription” or “recipe.” Various recipe books from Chosŏn describe Pangmunju as a double-distilled clear liquor made of white rice, glutinous (“sticky”) rice, and/or flour. Double-distilled, it is sweeter, stronger, and more fragrant and became commercialized in Chosŏn as a regular menu at taverns (chumak 酒幕) and similar facilities in urban areas (Han'guk minsok tae paekkwa sajŏn, s.v. “pangmunju”). It is often identified with other names such as Paekhaju (白霞酒 “Clear Cloud Wine”) and Paengnoju (白露酒 “Clear Dew Wine”) for its color (Hong Mansŏn and Yu Chungnim 1766: 6.18–19). The recipe uses white rice to make the base for the first leavening and glutinous rice or flour for the second.

 Scorched rice, or nurungji, is the scorched crusty layer of rice at the bottom of the pot. Not being able to eat even this unwanted portion of the rice means the family is so poor that the wife had to give all the rice to the others in the family. Scorched rice specifically forms a contrast with Pangmunju in the second line. Rice shortages had always been an issue throughout Chosŏn history, but the increasing consumption of wine worsened it in the later period, as the number of taverns and brothels grew exponentially in urban districts. Making wines such as Pangmunju used a large quantity of rice and grains. The problem was serious enough to have King Yŏngjo enforce the prohibition law yet another time in 1756 and issue a “sovereign voice” (yunŭm 綸音) prohibiting alcohol making and consumption in 1758 (Yŏngjo sillok, Yŏngjo 32/3/17; 34/9/16). Yi Ik describes the severity as follows: “Recently, on the streets of Seoul and other large cities there are endless numbers of [taverns]; and each distillery in large districts and towns consumes thousands of bushels of rice every year at the least. This amounts to ten year's worth of food for a poor household. Also, one third of the marketplaces in rural areas [are taverns]; what would be the result of their consumption? If we prohibit [alcohol] completely, we can save these people from starving in years of famine” 今京師及大都坊肆，其數無限，大坊大肆或一歲費數千斗，此貧戶十年之食，又鄕邑墟市酒壚三分居一，其耗費果何如也，若一㘦禁絶則可令斯民凶荒而免扵飢餒矣 (“Insamun – chugŭm” 人事門-酒禁 [Human affair – Prohibition]. Sŏngho sasŏl, 16.12b–13a). Therefore, the mention of Pangmunju flowing over banquet tables in the second line forms a proper parallel with the wives in poverty who cannot even afford scorched rice in the fourth line.

 The problem of this line is that the quotation is not found in the Book of Poetry or anywhere else verbatim. The closest candidate appears in Liu Xie's 劉勰 (ca. 465–532), “Explicating Lisao” 辨騷: “Before, Emperor Wu of Han loved Lisao and Huainan composed a memoir (of Lisao), which reckoned that the ‘Airs of the States’ (Guofeng) indulge in luster but are not licentious; ‘Minor Odes’ are resentful and rancorous but not disruptive. The type of the Lisao can be said to encompass both” 昔漢武愛騷, 而淮南作傳, 以為國風好色而不淫, 小雅怨悱而不亂. 若離騷者, 可謂兼之 (Liu Xie 2012: 51). A similar line is found in the “Qu Yuan Jia Sheng liezhuan” 屈原賈生列傳 [Biography of Qu Yuan and Jia Yi] of the Shiji (Sima Qian 1959: 84.2482), but the clause in question has fei (誹 “condemn”) instead of fei (悱 “be speechless [from grief or rancor]”), As it appears, either Yi Ok misremembered his Book of Poetry or whoever copied the text made a scribal error. (If the sentence was without un 云 “say” after si 詩, the line could simply be Yi Ok's own observation about the “Minor Odes” of the Book of Poetry, not a quotation from it.)

 Sulla 巡邏 (night-watch) was practiced in Seoul around the palace from the injŏng 人定 hour (10:00 p.m.) to p'aru 罷漏 (4:00 a.m.) when the curfew was released. The actual hours of patrolling varied throughout the Chosŏn period. See Ch'a Inbae (2015) for more details on the night-watch institution of late Chosŏn.

 The syntactic choice here, to render it “parting's length” 別離久 instead of “long parting” 久別離, seems to have been for the rhyme (pu 婦 ∼ ku 久). Yŏkkwan, or interpreting officers, were government officials trained and selected through yŏkkwa 譯科 in the civil service examinations, specializing in Chinese, Japanese, Jurchen/Manchu, and Mongolian. Interpreters were of the chungin class, whose chief work comprised accompanying literati officials at their meetings with visiting foreign envoys and Korean envoy retinues’ travels to foreign countries. Traveling with officials, interpreters could make good money on the side by being paid commission for liaising between officials and local merchants and services, not to mention procuring much-demanded goods back home, such as books, artifacts, and rare goods. But these travels took months at a time and often happened more than once a year, and interpreters had to be away from home all the time. For more dedicated studies about the history and roles of Korean interpreters, see Kang Sinhang (2000) and Wang (2014).

 “Merchant” here specifically means itinerant backpack peddlers (pobusang 袍負商) who made their business by connecting sellers and buyers directly across regions.

 Kwansŏ (lit. “west of the pass”) is a customary designation for the northwest of the peninsula, i.e., west of Ch’ŏllyŏng Pass 鐵嶺關.

 Sarahae transliterates the Korean word sanai (from Middle Korean sonahoy ᄉᆞ 나ᄒᆡ) meaning a “(manly) man.”

 Samsŭng “three sŭng” indicates the thread count of textiles. One sŭng, or sae in vernacular Korean, counts twenty warps, and three sŭng thus makes a sixty-warp thread count (see Paek Munsik 2012, 594). Samsŭng (and sŏksae in vernacular Korean) is in particular a prefix for a coarse type of fabric: e.g., samsŭng p'o 三升布 (or sŏksae pe) “coarse hemp,” sŏksae chipsin “roughly-made straw shoes,” samsŭng pŏsŏn (sometimes written samsing posŏn) “coarse-hemp socks,” etc. The last word appears in this line, thus indicating that the wife has made a new pair of socks for the husband. Since he is not the kind of a man who attends to his family affairs, the house is so poor that they could not afford decent fabrics better than coarse hemp.

 Samsŭng pŏsŏn, not being made of a densely woven fabric, were not the kind of socks that could long maintain a snug fit to the shape of the feet, and the husband must have complained about it. This poem could be read as the wife's account of her own socks, viz., that she made a new pair of socks for herself but they were too wide because she forgot to use the patterns of her feet, as the modern Korean translated edition (Silsi haksa kojŏn munhak yŏn'guhoe 2009: 2.442) takes it. But I interpret it to be that they were the husband's socks she had made, considering the flow of the poems and the tone of this section. The ornery husband, even though he never cared enough to show any affection to his wife or to provide for the family enough to afford the cloth for socks better than coarse hemp, still complained that she made his socks too big. This resonates with one of the lines in a later Chosŏn Kyŏnggi folk song, “Maehwa t'aryŏng” [Plum blossom song]: “You didn't come home last night; you went out to see the sights the night before; What nerve do you have to ask me to fix the sides of your samsŭng socks (to make them look smart)?” (Han'guk minsok tae paekkwa sajŏn, s.v. “Maehwa t'aryŏng”).

 Because socks were made at home, most houses kept patterns for family members’ feet at home.

 Adding -a 兒 as a suffix is common in vernacular Chinese (baihua), but not as much in Korean Sinitic writing. Here, it helps rhyme with su 誰 in the fourth line.

 Ch'ukkuk 蹴踘 (also written 蹴鞠) is an ancient game similar to modern-day soccer, mentioned as early as in the Shiji (“Bian Que Canggong liezhuan” 扁鵲倉公列傳 [Biographies of Bian Que and Canggong], Sima Qian 1959: 105.2812).

 Notice that Yi Ok employed kŏ (Ch. qu) 渠, a semi-vernacular third-person pronoun in place of literary Chinese ki (Ch. qi) 其 here. It is not Yi Ok's own quaint choice of pronoun, for it appears frequently in Chosŏn poems. But Yi Ok employs different pronouns at times to fit the varying attudinal perspectives—in this case, the wife's spiteful attitude toward her husband being reflected in the uncommon pronominal choice for her son.

 P'ansa seems to be an alternative writing of p'ansu 判數, referring to blind male fortune tellers. The recognition of blind male fortune tellers who performed services of prognostication, as well as reciting sutras and incantations at rituals and sacrifices, had been reported since the Koryŏ dynasty (e.g., Koryŏsa 高麗史, “Sega” 世家, 29.12b). P'ansu are often associated with shamanistic practice, pairing with mudang (or mu 巫, female shaman) as in mugo 巫瞽 (ko meaning blind). Hulbert (1903: 145) and Grayson (2002: 220) maintained such a view, attending to the fact that p'ansu often participated in exorcism rituals. P'ansu and mudang might have lived in different circumstances, however, even though they worked in similar capacities. Throughout the Chosŏn period, the court established near the palace a specific organization—Myŏngt'ong sa 明通寺 (also pronounced Myŏngt'ong si, later reformed as Maengch’ŏng 盲廳 [Hall for the Blind])—for professional blind prognosticators. This is in contrast to the court's policy of dissociating shamans, even going so far as removing them to Noryangjin, across the Han River, away from the palace, as seen in poem 7 in “Alluring Mode.” P'ansu were accorded better status than that of shamans, at times given official titles as prognosticators in the government (such as the Kwansanggam 觀象鑒 [Directorate of Astronomy]) or taking the ŭmyang-kwa 陰陽課 exam in the civil service examinations. Walraven also noted the difference between mudang and p'ansu (1991–92: 21–44, esp. 39). Some have suggested that p'ansa (lit. “minister”), the word used in the poem, came from a euphemistic way of addressing them based on the fact that they once could serve in the government (see Han'guk minjok munhwa tae paekkwa sajŏn, s.v., “Maengin tokkyŏng ŏp” 盲人讀經業). For more details see Yi Kit'ae (2016: 255–71).

 The Three Calamities (samjae, also written 三災) is a common designation for the ill fortunes visiting a person's fate regularly. In Korean folk beliefs, the three calamities—which some consider to be related to fire, water, and wind, while others prefer warfare, epidemics, and famine, perhaps derived from the Buddhist notion of the Three Calamities—visit three years at a time, every nine years according to the duodecimal Earthly-Branch sign of the person's birth year. In this sense, the three calamities are also three-year calamities. The first year of this visit of Three Calamities is called tŭl (incoming) samjae, the second nuul (laying) samjae, and the last nal (outgoing) samjae (see Han'guk minsok tae paekkwa sajŏn, s.v. “Samjae”). Chwa 坐 “sit” here seems to mean simply being in the three-year phase of the Three Calamities. In modern Korean, “Samjae ka tŭrŏtta (or even tŭrŏ anjatta ‘came in and sat down’),” “The Three Calamities have set in,” is commonly said to mean that one is having continuous misfortunes.

 The Royal Bureau of Painting is a court office in charge of painting for all court-initiated projects, from drawing for publication to portraits. It could be the case that some of the artists working in the bureau often took outside painting jobs for extra income or that the bureau officers could connect outside clients to private painters, since the bureau often hired private artists (sahwa 私畫) on a temporary basis.

 Hanging a painting of a hawk was one of the ways to ward off the Three Calamities. Yi Kyugyŏng wrote in his Oju yŏnmun changjŏn san'go that in China people put up a picture of chickens over the door on the first day of a year, whereas in Korea a picture of three hawks was pasted over the door to fend off the Three Calamities, any time of the year, during the years when they had entered the person's fate. Yi also suspected that this was the old Chinese custom of the Song-Yuan period, which came in during the Koryŏ era (“Ch’ŏm hwaŭng pyŏnjŭngsŏl” 黏畫鷹辨證說 [On putting up hawk paintings], 1959: 2.35.16–17).

 “Heels looking like eggs” alludes to a common saying, “If you hate your daughter-in-law, you even chide her for having egg-shaped heels” meaning that anything can be hateable when you set your mind to hate someone. Chŏng Yagyong collected it in his “Idam sokch'an” 耳談續纂 [An addendum to (Wang Tonggui's 王同軌) Ertan]: “If the daughter-in-law is rid of faults, (you say) her heels are like eggs” 婦無可短. 踵如雞卵 (1934–38: 1.24.53a). If we take this saying into consideration, this poem may be directed toward her mother-in-law, not her husband, though it is not clear without a heading given for the poem.