Farewell To The Farm
Poem by Robert Louis Stevenson. ¹ø¿ª: ±è¼¼Áß
The coach is at the door at last; ¸¶Â÷´Â µåµð¾î ¹® ¾Õ¿¡ ¿Í ÀÖ°í;
The eager children, mounting fast ¾ÆÀ̵éÀº ¼µÑ·¯ ¸¶Â÷¿¡ ¿À¸£¸ç
And kissing hands, in chorus sing: ÇÕâ ÇÏ¸é¼ ¼Õ¿¡ ÀÔ ¸ÂÃá´Ù;
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! Àß ÀְŶó, Àß ÀְŶó, ¸ðµÎµé!
To house and garden, field and lawn, ¿ì¸®Áý°ú ¸¶´ç, Àܵð¹ç°ú µéÆÇ,
The meadow-gates we swang upon, Ç®¹ç¿¡ ÀÖ´Â ¹®¿¡ ±×³×¸¦ ÅÀ¾úÁö,
To pump and stable, tree and swing, ¹°ÆßÇÁ, Á¶°¢»ó, ³ª¹«¿Í ±×³×.
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! Àß ÀְŶó, Àß ÀְŶó, ³ÊÈñµé ¸ðµÎ!
And fare you well for evermore, Ç×»ó Àß »ì¾Æ¶ó, ³ÊÈñµé ¸ðµÎ.
O ladder at the hayloft door, ¾Æ, °ÇÃÊ °£ ¹® ¿· »ç´Ù¸®¿©.
O hayloft where the cobwebs cling, ¾Æ, °Å¹ÌÁÙ °É·ÁÀÖ´Â °ÇÃÊ°£ À̾î,
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! Àß ÀְŶó, Àß ÀְŶó, ¸ðµÎµé
Crack goes the whip, and off we go; äÂï Âû»è ¶§¸®´Ï, ¿ì¸®´Â ¶°³´Ù;
The trees and houses smaller grow; Áý°ú ³ª¹«µéÀÌ Á¡Á¡ ¸Ö¾îÁö°í,
Last, round the woody turn we sing: ¸¶Áö¸· ½£¼ÓÀ» µ¹¾Æ, ³ë·¡ ºÎ¸¥´Ù;
Good-bye, good-bye, to everything! Àß ÀְŶó, Àß ÀְŶó, ¸ðµÎµé.
Àú´Â ÀüºÏ ¹«ÁÖ, ÃÌ ±¸¼®¿¡¼ ±¹¹ÎÇб³¸¦ ´Ù³æ½À´Ï´Ù.
ÁßÇб³ ºÎÅÍ´Â µµ½Ã¿¡¼ ´Ù³æ´Âµ¥, ÁõÇб³ 3Çг⠶§ÀÎÁö, ¿µ¾î½Ã°£¿¡ À§ ½Ã¸¦ ¹è¿ü½À´Ï´Ù.
À§½Ã°¡ ³» ¸¶À½¿¡ µé¾î ¿Ô½À´Ï´Ù.
³»°¡ ¹«ÁÖ º®ÃÌÀ» ¶°³ª¿À¸é¼ ¸Å¿ì ¼·¼·ÇÏ¿´´Âµ¥, À§½Ã°¡ ³» ¸¶À½À» ´ëº¯ÇÑ °ÍÀ̾úÀ» °¡¿ä?
ÀÎÅͳݿ¡ Á¦¸ñÀ» Ä¡´Ï, ±Ý¹æ ±× ½Ã°¡ ³ª¿É´Ï´Ù. Âü ÁÁÀº ¼¼»óÀÔ´Ï´Ù.