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 photo by windshoes

 

 

¾ÆÀÏ·£µå ºñÇà»ç°¡ Á×À½À» ³»´Ùº¸´Ù
An Irish Airman Forsees His Death

 

 

 

 

 

³ª´Â ¾È´Ù, Àú ±¸¸§ ¼Ó ¾îµð¿¡¼±°¡
³» ¿î¸í°ú ¸¸³ª°Ô µÉ °ÍÀ».
³» ½Î¿ì´Â ÀÚµé ³» ¹Ì¿öÇÏÁö ¾Ê°í
³» ÁöŰ´Â ÀÚµé ³» »ç¶ûÇÏÁö ¾Ê´Â´Ù
³» ³ª¶ó´Â ųŸ¾ÆÅº Å©·Î½º
³» ³ª¶ó »ç¶÷Àº ųŸ¾ÆÅºÀÇ °¡³­ÇÑ »ç¶÷µé,
¾î¶² °á¸»µµ ±×µé¿¡°Ô ÇØ¸¦ ³¢Ä¥ °Í °°Áö ¾Ê°í
Àüº¸´Ù ´õ ÇູÀ» ÁÙ °Í °°Áöµµ ¾Ê´Ù.
¾î¶² ¹ý, ¾î¶² Àǹ«, ¾î¶² Àú¸íÀλçµéÀÌ
ȤÀº °¥Ã¤ÇÏ´Â ±ºÁßÀÌ, ³ª¸¦ ½Î¿ì°Ô ÇÏÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù.
ÇÑ ¿Ü·Î¿î ȯÈñÀÇ Ãæµ¿ÀÌ ³ª¸¦
ÀÌ ¼³·¹ÀÌ´Â ±¸¸§ ¼ÓÀ¸·Î ³ª¸¦ ¸ô¾Æ³Ö¾ú´Ù.
³ª´Â ¸ðµç °ÍÀ» Àç¾îº¸¾Ò´Ù, ¸¶À½¼Ó¿¡ ¶°¿Ã·Á.
ÀÌ »î, ÀÌ Á×À½°ú °ßÁÖ¾î º¼ ¶§
¾ÕÀ¸·Î ¿Ã ¼¼¿ùµµ Áö³ª°£ ¼¼¿ùµµ
È£ÈíÀÇ, È£ÈíÀÇ ³¶ºñ·Î º¸¿´´Ù.

I known that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those thar I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

 

 

 

 

 

Àª¸®¾ö ¹öƲ·¯ ¿¹ÀÌÃ÷(William Butler Yeats)

1865³â 6¿ù 13ÀÏ ´ç½Ã ¿µ±¹ÀÇ ½Ä¹ÎÁö¿´´ø ¾ÆÀÏ·£µåÀÇ ¼öµµ ´õºí¸° ±³¿Ü »÷µð¸¶¿îÆ®¿¡¼­ Ãâ»ý
19¼¼±â¿Í 20¼¼±â ¿µ¹Ì ½Ã¹®ÇÐÀÇ ±³·® ¿ªÇÒÀ» ÇÑ ½ÃÀÎÀ¸·Î
À§ÀÇ ½Ã´Â ¾ÆÀÏ·£µå Ãâ½Å Á¶Á¾»ç ·Î¹öÆ® ±×·¹°í¸®ÀÇ Á×À½À» Ã߸ðÇÏ´Â ½Ã·Î
´ç½Ã ¿µ±¹ÀÇ ½Ä¹ÎÁö¿´´ø ¾ÆÀÏ·£µå º´»ç°¡ ¿µ±¹À» À§ÇØ Á¦1Â÷ ¼¼°è´ëÀü¿¡ ÂüÀüÇ߱⠶§¹®¿¡
ÀûÀÎ µ¶ÀÏÀ» ¹Ì¿öÇÒ ¼öµµ, ¾Æ±ºÀÎ ¿µ±¹À» »ç¶ûÇÒ ¼öµµ ¾ø´Â ¾ÆÀÏ·£µåÀεéÀÇ ½ÉÁ¤À» ¹¦»çÇϰí ÀÖ´Ù.

*ųŸ¾ÆÅºÀº ·Î¹öÆ® ±×·¹°í¸®ÀÇ °íÇâ. 

 

 

 

 

 

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