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½½Ç »ç¶ûÀÇ ³ë·¡ Young Gray (madamdixie) 2019-4-15  19:08:44


 

 

¿ö½ÌÅÏDC ½º¹Ì¼Ò´Ï¾ð ¹Ì¼ú°üÀΠ¡®Arthur M. Sackler Gallery¡¯¿¡¼­6¿ù 23ÀϱîÁö Ưº°ÀüÀÌ ¿­¸°´Ù.  Áß±¹ Àڱݼº¿¡ ÀÖ´Â °í±Ã¹Ú¹°°üÀÇ Èñ±ÍÇÑ ¼ÒÀ¯Ç°µéÀÌ Ã³À½À¸·Î ¾î·Á¿î ¹Ì±¹ ³ªµéÀ̸¦ Çß´Ù

 

1644-1912³â¿¡ °ÉÄ£ û³ª¶óÀÇ ¿©È²Á¦ 5¸íÀÇ ÃÊ»óÈ­¿Í ±×µéÀÇ ÀǺ¹°ú »ç¿ëÇß´ø °ø¿¹Ç°Àå½ÄÇ°Àΰ¨±×¸²Ä¥±â¿Í °¡±¸ µî Àü½ÃµÈ À¯Ç°À» ÅëÇؼ­ È­»çÇÏ°í ¼¶¼¼ÇÑ ´ë·úÀÇ ±ÃÁß ¹®È­¸¦ µÑ·¯º¸¸ç °¨ÅºÇÏ´Ù°¡ 6´ë ȲÁ¦ °Ç¸¢Á¦°¡ »ç¶ûÇÏ´Â ºÎÀÎÀ» ÀÒ°í ½½ÇÄÀ» »èÀÌ¸ç ¾´ ºñ°¡ ¾Õ¿¡¼­ ¼ûÀ» ¸ØÃè´Ù

 

°Ç¸¢Á¦°¡ Ä£ÇÊ·Î ¾´ ¿¤·¹Áö¸¦ Áß±¹ÇÐÀÚ Alister Inglis°¡ ¿µ¾î·Î ¹ø¿ªÇÑ °ÍÀ» ÀÐÀ¸¸é¼­ °¡½¿ÀÌ ¹¶Å¬Çß´Ù.  ÇÁ¶û½ºÀÇ È­°¡ ¸¶¸® ·Î¶û»ýÀÇ ½Ã ¡®ÀØÇôÁø ¿©ÀΡ¯ ¿¡¼­ ¡° ¡¦ Á×Àº ¿©ÀÚº¸´Ù ´õ ºÒ½ÖÇÑ ¿©ÀÚ´Â ÀØÇôÁø ¿©ÀÚ¡± ¶ó ÇßÀ¸´Ï È¿Çö¼øȲÈÄ´Â Á׾µµ Á×Àº °ÍÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó »ç¶û¹Þ´Â ¿©ÀÚ´Ï ¾ó¸¶³ª ÇູÇÑ ¿©ÀÎÀΰ¡.

 

ÀÐ°í ´Ù½Ã Àо °¡½¿¿¡ ÁøÇÏ°Ô ´À²¸Áö´Â »ó½ÇÀÇ ¾ÆÇÄ¿¡¼­ Çѵ¿¾È Çì¾î³ªÁú ¸øÇß´Ù.  1748³â¿¡ °Ç¸¢Á¦°¡ ¾´ ½Ã´Â ¸çÄ¥À» ³ª¸¦ »ç·ÎÀâ¾Ò´Ù

 

±×ÀÇ °¨Á¤À» ±×´ë·Î Àü´ÞÇϱ⿡ ³» ´É·ÂÀÌ ¹ÌÈíÇÏÁö¸¸ Çѱ۷Π¹ø¿ªÇØ º¸¾Ò´Ù.  

 

 

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Expressing My Grief

 

 

During her funeral service,

     I grieved to no avail.

In line with established custom,

     She will be known posthumously as

          The Filial and Virtuous.

In view of her unbounded goodness,

     How might two words suffice?

Yet as her embodiment of the Four Virtues

          was exemplary,

     Let these two words convey her nobility

          of spirit.

I am startled by the passage of time

     A hundred days have rapidly elapsed.

Seeing the new

     Intensifies my sorrow,

While displaying the old

     Reminds me of the beginning.

There are times when I find a brief respite,

     Yet, before long, my feelings are affected

          And I break down once more.

I can well believe that life is a dream,

     And that all things are but empty.

Alas! Sorrow laced with sorrow

     To be separated in life!

Having lost my wife,

     Who will follow me now?

When entering her bedroom,

     I inhale sadness.

I climb behind her phoenix bed-curtains,

     Yet they hang to no avail.

The romance of the spring breeze and

          autumn moon

     All ends here.

Summer days and winter nights spent

          with her

     Will never come again.

 

 

Written by the Imperial Hand this sixth lunar month in 1748

 

Translated by Alister Inglis

 

 

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     ¾î¶»°Ô ÀÌ µÎ ¸»ÀÌ ÃæºÐÇÑ°¡?

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     ³ª´Â ½½ÇÄÀ» µéÀ̸¶½Å´Ù.

ÇǴнº ħ´ë Ä¿Æ° µÚ¿¡ ¿À¸£¸é

     Ä¿Æ°Àº ¾µ¸ð¾øÀÌ ÃÄÁ® ÀÖ´Ù.

º½ÀÇ ¹Ìdz°ú 

          °¡À» ´ÞÀÇ »ç¶ûÀº

     ¸ðµÎ ¿©±â¿¡¼­ ³¡³µ´Ù.

±×³à¿Í ÇÔ²² º¸³½ 

          ¿©¸§ ³¯µé°ú °Ü¿ï ¹ãµéÀº

     ´Ù½Ã´Â µ¹¾Æ¿ÀÁö ¾ÊÀ¸¸®.

 

 

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Àεµ ¹«±¼Á¦±¹ÀÇ È²Á¦ »þÁöÇÑÀº ¸ÕÀú ¼¼»óÀ» ¶°³­ ȲÈĸ¦ À§Çؼ­ ¿ì¾ÆÇÑ ±ÃÀü°°Àº ¹¦ÀΠŸÁö¸¶ÇÒÀ» °ÇÃàÇؼ­ ±×³à¸¦ Ã߸ðÇß´Ù.  °Ç¸¢Á¦ÀÇ ½½Ç »ç¶ûÀÇ ³ë·¡µµ ¾Æ¸§´ä°í ¿ì¾ÆÇÏ°Ô ¿µ¿øÈ÷ ºû³­´Ù

 

 

 

 

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