¤ýÀÛ¼ºÀÏ 2015-05-17
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¾î´À ÇÒ¸Ó´ÏÀÇ ½Ã(An Old Lady¡¯s Poem)

    °¡½¿ ÂôÇÑ ½ºÄàƲ·£µå ¾ç·Î¿ø ¾î´À ÇÒ¸Ó´ÏÀÇ ½Ã ½ºÄàƲ·£µå ´øµð½Ã °¡±î¿î ÀÛÀº º´¿ø ³ëÀÎ º´µ¿¿¡¼­ º°·Î ¼ÒÁßÇÑ ¹°°ÇÀ̳ª Àç»êÀ̶ó°í´Â ¾ø´Â ÇÑ ÇÒ¸Ó´Ï°¡ µ¹¾Æ°¡¼Ì½À´Ï´Ù. °£È£»çµéÀÌ Á¶ÃÍÇÑ ±× ÇÒ¸Ó´ÏÀÇ ÁüÀ» Á¤¸®ÇÏ´Ù°¡ ÀÌ ½Ã¸¦ º¸°Ô µÇ¾ú´ä´Ï´Ù. ³»¿ë¿¡ °¨µ¿¹ÞÀº °£È£»çµé¿¡ ÀÇÇØ º¹»çµÈ À̽ô º´¿øÀÇ ¸ðµç °£È£»çµé¿¡°Ô Àü´Þ µÇ¾ú´ä´Ï´Ù. ÇÑ °£È£»ç°¡ ÀÌ ½Ã¸¦ ¾ÆÀÌ·£µå·Î °¡Áö°í °¬°í, Èļ¼¿¡ ³²±æ ±× ÇÒ¸Ó´ÏÀÇ Çϳª¹Û¿¡ ¾ø´Â À¯»êÀº ºÏ ¾ÆÀÏ·£µå Á¤½Å °Ç°­ Çùȸ ´º½º ÀâÁöÀÇ Å©¸®½ºÆ® ¸¶½º ÆÇ¿¡ ¿Ã¶ú½À´Ï´Ù. °£´ÜÇϸ鼭µµ ¸¶À½À» ¿òÁ÷ÀÌ´Â À̽ô µ¿¿µ»óÀ¸·Î ¸¸µé¾îÁ®¼­ ¼Ò°³µµ µÇ¾ú°í, À̼¼»ó¿¡ ³²±æ°ÍÀº ¾Æ¹«°Íµµ ¾ø¾ú´ø ½ºÄàƲ·£µå ÇÒ¸Ó´ÏÀÇ ½Ã´Â ÀÛ°¡ ºÒ¸íÀÇ ½Ã·Î¼­ ÀÎÅͳÝÀ» ÅëÇØ ¿Â¼¼°è·Î ÀüÇØÁö°í ÀÖ´Ù°í ÇÕ´Ï´Ù. ¡°An Old Lady¡¯s Poem¡± When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through her meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old lady¡¯s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her simple, but eloquent, poem and this little old Scottish lady, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ¡°anonymous¡± poem winging across the internet: ¹«¾ùÀ» º¸½Ã³ª¿ä, °£È£»çµé? ¹«¾ùÀ» º¸½Ã³ª¿ä? ´ç½ÅÀÌ ³ª¸¦ º¼¶§ ¹«½¼ »ý°¢ ÇϽóª¿ä? What do you see, nurses? What do you see? What are you thinking when you're looking at me? Çö¸íÇÏÁö ¸øÇÏ°í ÅõÁ¤ ºÎ¸®´Â ´ÄÀºÀÌ, º¯´ö½º·± ¼ºÁú°ú ÃÐÁ¡ ¾ø´Â ´«À» °¡Áø? A crabby old woman, not very wise, Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes? À½½ÄÀ» ÁúÁú È긮°í ´ë´äµµ »¡¸® ¸øÇÏ´Â ´ç½ÅÀÌ ¸ñû³ô¿© ¸»ÇÒ¶§¸é ¡°´ç½ÅÀÌ Á»´õ ³ë·ÂÇϱ⸦ ¹Ù·¨´Ù¿À!¡± Who dribbles her food and makes long reply When you say in a loud voice, "I do wish you'd try!" º¸±â¿¡´Â ´ç½ÅÀÌ ÇÏ´ÂÀÏÀ» ¸ð¸£´Â°Í °°°í ¾ç¸»Â¦À̳ª ½Å¹ß¦µµ Ç×»ó ÀÒ¾î ¹ö¸®´Â? Who seems not to notice the thing that you do, And forever is losing a stocking or shoe? ÀúÇ×À» ÇÏ´øÁö ¸»´øÁö, ´ç½ÅÀÇ ¶æ µ¥·Î ¸ñ¿åµµ ½ÃÅ°°í À½½Äµµ ¸ÔÀÌ¸ç ±ä ÇϷ縦 ä¿ö¾ß ÇÏ´Â? Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will, with bathing and feeding, the long day to fill? ´ç½ÅÀº ±×·¸°Ô »ý°¢ ÇϽóª¿ä? ´ç½ÅÀº ±×·¸°Ô º¸½Ã³ª¿ä? ±×·¸´Ù¸é ´«À» ¶ß¼¼¿ä, °£È£»ç, ´ç½ÅÀº ³ª¸¦ º¸°í ÀÖÁö ¾Ê¾Æ¿ä Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see? Then open your eyes, nurse, you're not looking at me. ´õºíŬ¸¯À» ÇϽøé À̹ÌÁö¸¦ ¼öÁ¤ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù ´ç½ÅÀÇ ¸íÀ¸·Î ÇൿÇÏ°í, ´ç½ÅÀÇ ÀÇÁöµ¥·Î ¸ÔÀ¸¸ç ¿©±â¿¡ ²Ä¦ ¾Ê°í ¾É¾Æ ³»°¡ ´©±ºÁö ¸»ÇØ ÁÙ²²¿ä I'll tell you who I am as I sit here so still, As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will. ³ª´Â ¿­»ìµÈ ÀÛÀº ¾ÆÀÌ·Î ¾Æ¹öÁö¿Í ¾î¸Ó´Ï, ³²ÇüÁ¦¿Í ¿©ÇüÁ¦µé·Î È­¸ñÇÑ °¡Á·À» °¡Á³´Ù¿À I'm a small child of ten with a father and mother, Brothers and sisters, who love one another. °ð »ç¶ûÇÏ´Â »ç¶÷À» ¸¸³¯ ÇູÀ¸·Î ³¯¾Æ °¥°Í °°ÀÌ ²Þ ¸¹Àº ¼Ò³à ¿­¿©¼¸ A young girl of sixteen with wings on her feet Dreaming that soon now a lover she¡¯ll meet Æò»ý ÁöÅ°°Ú´Ù ¾à¼ÓÇÑ ±× ¾ð¾àÀ» ±â¾ïÇÏ¸ç °¡½¿ ¼³·¹ÀÌ´Â °ð ½º¹«»ì µÉ ½ÅºÎ A bride soon at twenty, my heart gives a leap, Remembering the vows that I promised to keep Æí¾ÈÇÏ°í ÇູÇÑ °¡Á¤À¸·Î µ¹º¸¾Æ ÁÖ¾î¾ß ÇÒ ³» ÀÛÀº ¾ÆÀ̵éÀÌ ÀÖ´Â, ÀÌÁ¦ ½º¹° ´Ù¼¸ At twenty-five now, I have young of my own, who need me to guide and a secure happy home. »ï½ÊÀÇ ¿©ÀÎ, ºü¸£°Ô ÀÚ¶õ ³» ¾ÆÀ̵éÀº ¿À·¡µµ·Ï ³²¾ÆÀÖÀ» »ç¶ûÀÇ ²öÀ¸·Î ¼­·Î¸¦ ¹­¾ú°í A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast, Bound to each other with ties that should last. »ç½Ê»ì¿¡, ¾î·È´ø ¾ÆµéµéÀº ÀÚ¶ó¼­ ÁýÀ» ¶°³µÁö¸¸ ³» ³²ÆíÀÌ ¿·¿¡ ÇÔ²² Çϱ⿡ ½½ÇÁÇÏÁö ¾Ê¾Ò¾î¿ä. At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone, But my man¡¯s beside me to see I don¡¯t mourn. ¿À½Ê»ì¿¡ ´Ù½Ã Çѹø, ¾Æ±âµéÀº ³» ¹«¸­ ¹Ø¿¡¼­ ³î°í ³» »ç¶ûÇÏ´Â ±×ÀÌ¿Í ³ª´Â ´Ù½Ã ¾ÆÀ̵éÀ» º¸¾ÒÁö¿ä. At fifty once more, babies play round my knee, Again we know children, my loved one and me. ³»°Ô ħ¿ïÇÑ ³¯µéÀº ´Ù°¡¿Ô°í, ³» ³²ÆíÀº Á×°í ³» Àå·¡¸¦ ¹Ù¶óº¸¸ç ³­ µÎ·Á¿ò¿¡ ¸ö¼­¸® ÃÆ´Ù¿À. Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead, I look at the future, I shudder with dread. ³ªÀÇ ¾ÆÀ̵éÀº ¸ðµÎ ÀÚ±âµéÀÇ ¾ÆÀ̵éÀ» Å°¿ì°í ÀÖ¾ú°í ³­ ³»°¡ °¡Á³´ø »ç¶û°ú Áö³­ ³¯µéÀ» ȸ»ó ÇßÁö¿ä. For my young are all rearing young of their own, And I think of the years and the love that I¡¯ve known. ³­ ÀÌÁ¦ ´ÄÀº ¿©ÀÚ, Çö½ÇÀº ÀÜȤÇÏ°í ÀÌ Á¶·Õ°Å¸® ´ÄÀºÀ̸¦ ¾î¸®¼®°Ô ¸¸µéÁö¿ä. I¡¯m now an old woman and nature is cruel: ¡®tis jest to make old age look like a fool. ¸öÀº ¸Á°¡Áö°í ¿ì¾ÆÇÔ°ú È°±â´Â ¶°³ª, ÇѶ§ ½ÉÀåÀÌ ÀÖ´ø°÷Àº ÀÌÁ¦ µ¹ÀÌ µÇ¾ú´Ù¿À. The body, it crumbles, grace and vigor depart, There is now a stone where I once had a heart. ÀÌ ´ÄÀº ½Ãü¼Ó¿¡´Â ¾î¸° ¼Ò³à ¾ÆÁ÷µµ »ì¾Æ ÀÖ°í Áö±Ý ±×¸®°í ´Ù½Ã, Âî±×·¯Áø ÀÌ °¡½¿ ºÎÇ®¾î ¿Â´Ù¿À. But inside this old carcass a young girl still dwells, And now and again, my battered heart swells. Áñ°Å¿ü´ø ÀÏµé ±â¾ïÇÏ°í ¾ÆÆÍ´ø ¶§¸¦ ±â¾ïÇϸç, ³ª´Â »ç¶ûÇÏ°í ÀλýÀ» ¶Ç ´Ù½Ã »ì¾Æ °£´Ù¿À. I remember the joys, I remember the pain, And I¡¯m loving and living life over again. ³Ê¹«³ª ª°í »¡¸® Áö³ª°£ Áö³­³¯À» »ý°¢ÇÏ¸ç ¾Æ¹«°Íµµ ¿µ¿øÇÒ¼ö ¾ø´Â »ç½ÇÀ» ¹Þ¾Æ µé¿´´Ù¿À. I think of the years all too few, gone too fast, And accept the stark fact that nothing can last. ±×·¯´Ï ´«À» ¶ß¼¼¿ä, »ç¶÷µé, ´«À» ¶ß°í º¸¼¼¿ä. ÅõÁ¤ºÎ¸®´Â ´ÄÀºÀÌ·Î º¸Áö¸»°í; °¡±îÀ̼­ ¡°³ª¡±¸¦ º¸¼¼¿ä!! So open your eyes, people, open and see, Not a crabby old woman; look closer. see ME! - °¨µ¿µé Áß¿¡¼­-