Invictus (Á¤º¹ºÒ´É)
Invictus (Á¤º¹ºÒ´É)
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
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½ÅµéÀÌ ¹«½¼ ÀÏÀ» ¹úÀÏÁö¶óµµ °¨»çÇÑ´Ù.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
ÀÜÀÎȯ ȯ°æÀÇ ¸¶¼ö¿¡¼µµ
³ ¿òÃ÷¸®°Å³ª ¼Ò¸®³õ¾Æ ¿ïÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù.
³»·ÁÄ¡´Â À§Çè ¼Ó¿¡¼
³» ¸Ó¸®´Â ÇÇÅõ¼ºÀÌÁö¸¸ ±ÁÈ÷Áö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
ºÐ³ë¿Í ´«¹°ÀÇ ÀÌ ¶¥À» ³Ñ¾î
¾îµÒÀÇ °øÆ÷¸¸ÀÌ ¾î·ÅDzÇÏ´Ù.
±×¸®°í ¿À·£ Àç¾ÓÀÇ ¼¼¿ùÀÌ Èê·¯µµ
³ª´Â µÎ·Á¿ò¿¡ ¶³Áö ¾ÊÀ» °ÍÀÌ´Ù.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
ºñ·Ï ¹®ÀÌ Á¼À»Áö¶óµµ,
¾Æ¹«¸® ¸¹Àº Çü¹úÀÌ ³¯ ±â´Ù¸±Áö¶óµµ Áß¿äÄ¡ ¾Ê´Ù.
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- William Ernest Henley -
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