To Won’s Father,
June 1, 1586.
You always said, “Dear, let’s live together until our hair
turns gray and die on the same day.” How could you pass away
Who should I and our little boy listen to
and how should we live? How could you go ahead of me? How did you bring your heart to me and how
did I bring my heart to you?
Whenever we lay down together you
always told me, “Dear, do other people cherish and love each
other like we do? Are they really like us?”
How could you leave all that behind and go
ahead of me?
I just cannot live without you. I just want to go to you.
Please take me to where you are. My feelings toward you I
cannot forget in this world and my sorrow
knows no limit.
Where would I put my heart in now and how
can I live with the child missing you?
Please look at this letter and tell me in detail in my dreams.
Because I want to listen to your saying in detail in my dreams .
I write this letter and put it in. Look closely
and talk to me. When I give birth to the
child in me, who should it call father? Can anyone fathom
how I feel? There is no tragedy like this
under the sky.
You are just in another place, and not in such a deep grief as I am. There is no
limit and end to my sorrows that I write
roughly. Please look closely at this letter and come to me in
my dreams and show yourself in detail and tell me. I believe I
can see you in my dreams.
Come to me secretly and show yourself.
There is no limit to what I want to say and I stop here.
Above, was a 16th Century love letter from a pregnant
wife, which her husband took to his grave.
In April of 1998, shortly after excavating an ancient tomb in Andong City, South Korea, archaeologists found
the coffin of Eung-Tae
Lee — a 16th-century
male, now mummified, who, until his death at the age of 30, had been
a member of the
ancient Goseong Yi clan.
Resting on his chest was this letter, written by his pregnant widow and
addressed to the father of their unborn child.