<¡ºStarry, Starry Night¡»(1889) - by Vincent Van Gogh>
Starry, starry night:
º°ÀÌ ¸¹Àº ¹ãÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
Paint your palette blue and gray.
ÆÄ·¿Æ®¿¡ ÆĶõ»ö°ú ȸ»öÀ» Ä¥Çϼ¼¿ä.
Look out on a summer's day
¿©¸§ ³¯¿¡ ¹Ù±ùÀ» ¹Ù¶óº¸¾Æ¿ä.
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
³» ¿µÈ¥¿¡ ±êµéÀÎ ¾îµÒÀ» ¾Ë°í ÀÖ´Â ´«À¸·Î
Shadows on the hills.
¾ð´ö À§ÀÇ ±×¸²ÀÚµé
Sketch the trees and the daffodils;
³ª¹«¿Í ¼ö¼±È¸¦ ±×¸®¼¼¿ä
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
¹Ìdz°ú °Ü¿ïÀÇ Âù °ø±âµµ ÈÆø¿¡ ´ãÀ¸¼¼¿ä.
In colors on the snowy linen land.
´«Ã³·³ ÇϾá ĵ¹ö½º À§¿¡ »öÀ» ÀÔÈ÷¼¼¿ä.
Now I understand What you tried to say to me,
´ç½ÅÀÌ ÀÌÁ¦ ¹«¾ó ¸»ÇÏ·Á Çß´ÂÁö ³ª´Â ÀÌÇØÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
And how you suffered for your sanity
´ç½ÅÀÇ ±¤±â·Î ´ç½ÅÀÌ ¾ó¸¶³ª °íÅë¹Þ¾Ò´ÂÁö
And how you tried to set them free.
±×¸®°í ¾ó¸¶³ª ÀÚÀ¯·Î¿ÍÁö·Á ³ë·ÂÇß´ÂÁö
They would not listen; they did not know how.
»ç¶÷µéÀº ¾ËÁöµµ ¸øÇß°í µéÀ¸·Á°í ÇÏÁöµµ ¾Ê¾ÒÁö¸¸
Perhaps they'll listen now.
¾Æ¸¶ ±×µéÀº ÀÌÁ¦´Â µè°í ÀÖÀ» °Å¿¹¿ä.
Starry, starry night:
º°ÀÌ ¸¹Àº ¹ãÀÔ´Ï´Ù.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze;
À̱۰Ÿ®´Â µíÇÑ ²ÉµéÀÇ »öÀÌ ºÒ²É°°ÀÌ ¿©°ÜÁý´Ï´Ù.
Swirling clouds in violet haze
º¸¶ùºû ¿¬¹« ¼Ó¿¡ ¼Ò¿ëµ¹ÀÌ Ä¡´Â ±¸¸§µéÀº
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
ºó¼¾Æ®ÀÇ Çª¸¥ ´«ºûÀ» ³ªÅ¸³»´Â °Í °°¾Æ¿ä.
Colors changing hue:
»öÁ¶¸¦ ¹Ù²Ù´Â ºû±òµé
Morning fields of amber grain,
Ȳ±Ý»öÀÇ ¾Æħ Æò¾ß
Weathered faces lined in pain
°íÅë ¼Ó¿¡ Âîµç ¾ó±¼Àº
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.
¿¹¼ú°¡ÀÇ »ç¶û½º·± ¼Õ±æ·Î ´Þ·¡Áö³×¿ä.
For they could not love you
»ç¶÷µéÀº ´ç½ÅÀ» »ç¶ûÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø¾úÁö¸¸
But still, your love was true.
ÇÏÁö¸¸ ¾ÆÁ÷µµ ´ç½ÅÀÇ »ç¶ûÀº Áø½ÇÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
And when no hope was left inside
³»ºÎ¿¡´Â ¾Æ¹« Èñ¸Áµµ ³²¾ÆÀÖÁö ¾ÊÀ» ¶§
On that starry, starry night
ÀÌ º°ÀÌ ºû³ª´Â ¹ã
You took your life as lovers often do.
´ç½ÅÀº ¿¬ÀεéÀÌ Á¾Á¾ ±×·¯µí ÀÚ»ìÀ» ÅÃÇßÁÒ.
But I could've told you, Vincent:
±×Ä¡¸¸ ºó¼¾Æ®, ³ ´ç½Å¿¡°Ô ¸»ÇØÁÙ°Å¿¹¿ä.
This world was never meant For one as beautiful as you.
´ç½Å¿¡°Ô ¾î¶² ¼¼»óµµ ´ç½Å¸¸Å ¾Æ¸§´äÁø ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù´Â°É...
Starry, starry night:
º°ÀÌ ¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î ¹ã
Portraits hung in empty halls:
´ç½ÅÀÇ ÃÊ»óÀÌ ºó º®¿¡ °É·ÁÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù.
Frameless heads on nameless walls
Ʋµµ ¾øÀÌ À̸§µµ ¾ø´Â º®¿¡
With eyes that watch the world
¼¼»óÀ» ¹Ù¶óº¸´Â ´«À» °¡Áøä·Î...
and can't forget;
±×¸®°í ÀØÀ» ¼ö°¡ ¾ø¾î¿ä.
Like the strangers that youve met:
´ç½ÅÀÌ ¸¸³ª¿Ô´ø À̹æÀÎó·³
The ragged men in ragged clothes.
´©ÃßÇÑ ¿ÊÀ» ÀÔÀº ´©ÃßÇÑ »ç¶÷À»
The silver thorn, a bloody rose
»õ»¡°£ Àå¹ÌÀÇ Àººû °¡½Ã
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.
¼ø¹éÀÇ ´«¿¡ ºÎ¼Áö°í »óó¹ÞÀº
Now I think I know
ÀÌÁ¦¾ß ³ª´Â ÀÌÇØÇÕ´Ï´Ù.
What you tried to say to me,
´ç½ÅÀÌ ÀÌÁ¦ ¹«¾ó ¸»ÇÏ·Á Çß´ÂÁö
And how you suffered for your sanity
´ç½ÅÀÇ ±¤±â·Î ´ç½ÅÀÌ ¾ó¸¶³ª °íÅë¹Þ¾Ò´ÂÁö
And how you tried to set them free.
±×¸®°í ¾ó¸¶³ª ÀÚÀ¯·Î¿ÍÁö·Á ³ë·ÂÇß´ÂÁö
They would not listen; they're not listening still.
»ç¶÷µéÀº ¾ËÁöµµ ¸øÇß°í µéÀ¸·Á°í ÇÏÁöµµ ¾Ê¾ÒÁö¸¸
Perhaps they never will.
¾Æ¸¶ ±×µéÀº ÀÌÁ¦´Â µè°í ÀÖÀ» °Å¿¹¿ä.
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