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  »îÀÌ ±×´ë¸¦ ¼ÓÀÏÁö¶óµµ             Should This Life Sometime Deceive You
  ½ÅÀÌ¿©, Àú¸¦ ¹ÌÄ¡Áö ¾Ê°Ô ÇϼҼ­ Save Me From Madness, God
  ½Ãº£¸®¾Æ ±íÀº ±¤¸Æ¼Ó¿¡             Message to Siberia
  ÀÛÀº »õ                                   A Little Bird
 

»îÀÌ ±×´ë¸¦ ¼ÓÀÏÁö¶óµµ

             - Ǫ½¬Å²
 

»îÀÌ ±×´ë¸¦ ¼ÓÀÏÁö¶óµµ
½½ÆÛÇϰųª ³ëÇÏÁö ¸»¶ó !

¿ì¿ïÇÑ ³¯µéÀ» °ßµð¸é¼­:
¹ÏÀ¸¶ó, ±â»ÝÀÇ ³¯ÀÌ ¿À¸®´Ï.

¸¶À½Àº ¹Ì·¡¿¡ »ç´Â °Í
ÇöÀç´Â ½½Ç °Í:

¸ðµç °ÍÀº ¼ø°£ÀûÀÎ °Í, Áö³ª°¡´Â °ÍÀÌ´Ï
±×¸®°í Áö³ª°¡´Â °ÍÀº Èʳ¯ ¼ÒÁßÇÏ°Ô µÇ¸®´Ï.



´Þ°üµÈ ÀÔÀåÀ¸·Î ÀλýÀ» ¸»Çϰí ÀÖ´Â µí Çϳª
±× ¼Ó¿¡ ¹è¾îÀÖ´Â ¿ì¿ï°¨Àº ¼û±æ ¼ö ¾ø´Ù.


Should This Life Sometime Deceive You

             - Alexandr Sergeevitch Pushkin


Should this life sometime deceive you,
Don't be sad or mad at it!

On a gloomy day, submit:
Trust -- fair day will come, why grieve you?


Heart lives in the future, so
What if gloom pervades the present?

All is fleeting, all will go;
What is gone will then be pleasant.



½ÅÀÌ¿©, Àú¸¦ ¹ÌÄ¡Áö ¾Ê°Ô ÇϼҼ­.

             - Ǫ½¬Å²


½ÅÀÌ¿©, Àú¸¦ ¹ÌÄ¡Áö ¾Ê°Ô ÇϼҼ­.
¾Æ´Ï, ±×º¸´Ù´Â Â÷¶ó¸® º¸µû¸®¿Í ÁöÆÎÀ̰¡ ³ª¾Æ¿ä
¾Æ´Ï, °í»ý½º·´°í ¹è°íÇ °Ô Â÷¶ó¸® ´õ ³ª¾Æ¿ä.

±×°ÍÀº ³»°¡ ³ªÀÇ À̼ºÀ»
Á¸ÁßÇØ¼­µµ ¾Æ´Ï°í
À̼º°ú Çì¾îÁö´Â °ÍÀÌ ±â»ÚÁö ¾Ê¾Æ¼­°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¿ä.


³ª ÀÚÀ¯·ÎÀÌ µÐ´Ù¸é
±× ¾ó¸¶³ª Ȱ°³Ä¡¸ç
¾îµÎ¿î ½£À¸·Î ´Þ·Á°¡¸®!

¿­º´¿¡ °É¸° °Íó·³ ³ë·¡¸¦ ºÎ¸£°í, ¶Ç ºÎ¸£°í
±× ¾ó¸¶³ª ÀÚÀ¯·ÎÀÌ ¸ÚÁø ²Þ¿¡ µµÃëµÇ¾î
³ª¸¦ ÀØÀ¸¸®.


±×¸®°í ³ªÀÇ ÆÄµµ¼Ò¸®¿¡ ±Í±â¿ïÀ̰í
Çູ¿¡ °¡µæÂ÷¼­
ºó ÇÏ´ÃÀ» ¹Ù¶óº¸¸®´Ï

³ª ±× ¾ó¸¶³ª ÈûÂ÷°í ÀÚÀ¯·Î¿ì¸®
µéÆÇÀ» ÆÄÇìÄ¡°í
½£À» ÈÖ¾î¶ß¸®´Â ȸ¿À¸®Ã³·³.


±×·±µ¥ ºÒÇàÈ÷µµ : ¹ÌÄ£´Ù´Â °ÍÀº
Æä½ºÆ®º¸´Ù ´õ µÎ·Á¿î ÀÏ,

°ð °¤È÷°í
»ç½½¿¡ ¹­À̸®´Ï,

»ç¶÷µéÀº â»ì »çÀÌ·Î Áü½ÂÀ» Âµí
Â·¯ ¿Ã °ÍÀ̰í,


±×¸®°í ¹ã¿¡´Â µéÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù.
²Ò²¿¸®ÀÇ ¿ï ¸®´Â ³¶¶ûÇÑ ¸ñ¼Ò¸®µµ ¾Æ´Ï°í

»ª»ªÇÑ Âü³ª¹«½£ÀÇ ¿õ¼º°Å¸²µµ ¾Æ´Ï°í
¿ï¸®´Â °ÍÀº

Ä£±¸µéÀÇ ¿Üħ¼Ò¸®, ¹ãÀÇ ÆÄ¼ö²ÛÀÇ ¿å¼³,
»ç½½ÀÌ Â¿··ÀÌ°í »ß°ÆÀÌ´Â ¼Ò¸®»Ó



Çö½Ç¼Ó¿¡¼­ »ì°í ½Í¾îÇÏ´Â ½ÃÀÎÀÇ ¸ð½ÀÀ» º¼ ¼ö ÀÖÁö¸¸
ÇÑÆíÀ¸·Î´Â Çö½ÇÀÇ ¹ýÄ¢À» ¶°³ª°íÀÚ ÇÏ´Â ¸ð½ÀÀ» °¡Áö°í ÀÖ´Ù.
»î¿¡ ±â»Ý°ú ½½ÇÄµî ¸ðµç °ÍÀÌ ±ÕÇüÀ» ÀÌ·ç¾î »ì¾Æ°¡°íÀÚ ÇÔ.


Ǫ½¬Å²ÀÌ ±Ç·ÂÀÚ¸¦ ½È¾îÇÏ´Â ÀÌÀ¯

  ÀúÇ×ÀûÀÎ ÀÚ¼¼¶ó¼­°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó ÀÚ±â ÀڽŸ¸ÀÇ ¼¼°è¸¦
  °¡Áö°í Àֱ⠶§¹®ÀÌ´Ù.
  ±Ç·Â¿¡ ´ëºñµÇ´Â ¹®ÀÎ

   1. ±Ç·ÂÀ» dzÀÚ, ºñÆÇ.
   2. ±Ç·Â°ú´Â ´Ù¸¥ Á¤½Å¼¼°èÃß±¸

 Çª½¬Å²Àº ¿¹¼úÀ» À§ÇÑ ¿¹¼úÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó, º»ÁúÀ» ´Ù·ç´Â
 ¾î¶»°Ô »ì¾Æ¾ß ÇÏ´Â °Í¿¡ ´ëÇØ ³íÀÇÇÔ.


Save Me From Madness, God

                   - Alexandr Sergeevitch Pushkin


Save me from madness, God, I beg.

No, I prefer the beggar's bag,

Prefer to starve and toil.

And not as if I praise my head,

And not as if I were not glad

To part with mind at all.


If I were left alone and free,

Oh, how fast I then would flee

To wildness, thick and dim!

I would sing songs in flaming fits

And lose myself in fumes and bits

Of mixed and lovely dreams.


And I would listen to the sea,

And, full of happiness, would see

The heavens' empty flesh;

And then I would be strong and free

Like whirl that could dig up a lea

And leave a forest smashed.


Alas! The man whose mind is lost,

Would be as awful as a curse,

And very soon be locked,

They'd put the fool in chains in rage,

And, as a wild beast, through the cage

They would you tease and mock.


And in the night I would attend

Not to the nightingale's clarinet,

And hum of woods and plains -

But to the cries of my inmates,

And oaths of the jailers-rats,

And squeak and ring of chains.



½Ãº£¸®¾Æ ±íÀº ±¤¸Æ¼Ó¿¡
Á¦±îºê¸®½ºÆ® 12¿ù Çõ¸íÀÌÈÄ À¯Çü°£ »ç¶÷µé¿¡°Ô º¸³»´Â ½Ã.

                 - Ǫ½¬Å²

 
½Ãº£¸®¾Æ ±íÀº ±¤¸Æ ¼Ó¿¡
±×´ëµéÀÇ µå³ôÀº ÀÚÁ¸½ÉÀÇ Àγ»¸¦ º¸Á¸ÇϼҼ­

±×´ëµéÀÇ ºñÅëÇÑ ³ë·Â°ú ³ôÀº Á¤½ÅÀÇ ÁöÇâÀº
»ç¶óÁöÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸®´Ï.


ºÒÇàÀÇ ½Å½ÇÇÑ ´©ÀÌ,
Èñ¸ÁÀº ¾ÏÈæÀÇ ÁöÇÏ ¼Ó¿¡¼­

¿ë±â¿Í ±â»ÝÀ» Àϱú¿ì¸®´Ï
±× ³¯Àº ¿À¸®´Ï:


»ç¶û°ú ¿ìÁ¤ÀÌ ±×´ëµé¿¡°Ô ´êÀ¸¸®´Ï
±ô±ôÇÏ°Ô ´ÝÈù °÷ ºøÀåÀ» ¿­°í

Áö±Ý ±×´ëµéÀÇ °¨¹æ ±× ±¼ ¼ÓÀ¸·Î
³ªÀÇ ÀÚÀ¯ÀÇ ¼Ò¸®°¡ ´Ù´Ù¸£µíÀÌ.


¹«°Å¿î »ç½½ÀÌ Ç®¾îÁö°í
¾ÏÈæÀÇ ¹æÀº Çã¹°¾îÁö°í - ÀÚÀ¯´Â

±â»ÝÀ¸·Î ±×´ëµéÀ» ¸¶Áß³ª¿À¸®´Ï
±×¸®°í ÇüÁ¦µéÀº ±×´ëµé¿¡°Ô °ËÀº °Ç³×¸®´Ï.



 ¹Ì·¡¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ½Å·Ú, Á¤½ÅÀûÀÎ µ¿ÁöÀǽÄ.
 Àλý, »çȸ, ¼¼°è µî¿¡ ´ëÇÑ »ç»óÀÌ ¿¬°áµÊ.

 ¿©±â¼­ '±¤¸Æ'À̶õ - ±×´ëµéÀÌ °¡Áö°í ÀÖ´Â ±× ³ë·Â°ú Á¤½ÅÀº
 ³ªÁß¿¡ ¶Ç ÇϳªÀÇ º¸¹°ÀÌ µÇ¾î ¹ß±¼µÇ¸®¶ó´Â Àǹ̸¦ Ãß°¡ÇÑ´Ù.

 ¸¶Áö¸·¿¬¿¡¼­ Ǫ½¬Å²Àº ±×´ëµéÀÌ ¿ÇÀº »ç¶÷µéÀÌ´Ï
 ½ÉÆÇÇØ ´Þ¶ó°í ÇÏ¸ç °ËÀ» °Ç³Ù´Ù.



Message to Siberia

                 - Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin


Deep in the Siberian mine,

Keep your patience proud;

The bitter toil shall not be lost,

The rebel thought unbowed.


The sister of misfortune, Hope,

In the under-darkness dumb

Speaks joyful courage to your heart:

The day desired will come.


And love and friendship pour to you

Across the darkened doors,

Even as round your galley-beds

My free music pours.


The heavy-hanging chains will fall,

The walls will crumble at a word;

And Freedom greet you in the light,

And brothers give you back the sword.



ÀÛÀº »õ

                   - Ǫ½¬Å²


¸Ó³ª¸Õ ¸¶À»¿¡ À̸£·¯
°íÇâÀÇ Ç³½ÀÀ» µû¶ó¼­

¸Å¸¼Àº º½Ã¶ ÃàÁ¦ÀÏ¿¡
ÀÛÀº »õ ³õ¾Æ ÁÖ³ë¶ó.


ºñ·Ï ÇÑ ¸¶¸® »õÀÌÁö¸¸
»ê °Í¿¡ ÀÚÀ¯¸¦ ÁÖ°í

¾Æ½¬¿î »ý°¢Àº ¾øÀ¸´Ï
³ªÀÇ ¸¶À½Àº ÆòÈ­·Î¿Í¶ó.



Á¦ 2ÇàÀÇ °íÇâÀÇ Ç³½ÀÀ̶õ
´ç½Ã ·¯½Ã¾Æ ³ó¹Îµé »çÀÌ¿¡´Â

ºÎȰÁÖÀÏÀÌ¸é »õ¸¦ ³õ¾ÆÁָ鼭
ÇູÀ» ºñ´Â dz½ÀÀ» ¸»ÇÑ´Ù.

Á¦3ÇàÀÇ º½Ã¶ ÃàÁ¦ÀÏÀº ºÎȰÀýÀ» ¸»ÇÑ´Ù.




A Little Bird

               - Alexandr Sergeevitch Pushkin


In alien lands devoutly clinging

To age-old rites of Russian earth,

I let a captive bird go winging

To greet the radiant spring's rebirth.


My heart grew lighter then: why mutter

Against God's providence, and rage,

When I was free to set aflutter

But one poor captive from his cage!


 

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