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ÅõÀïÇغÃÀÚ Çã»ç¶ó°í ¸»ÇÏÁö ¸»¶ó
Say not the Struggle nought Availeth
By Arthur Hugh Clough
Say not the struggle nought availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.
ÅõÀïÇغÃÀÚ Çã»ç¶ó°í ¸»ÇÏÁö ¸»¶ó
Àΰí¿Í »óó°¡ ÇêµÇ¸ç
ÀûÀÌ ±â¿îÀÌ ºüÁö°Å³ª ¾àÇØÁöÁöµµ ¾ÊÀ¸¸ç
Á¶±Ýµµ ´Þ¶óÁø °ÍÀÌ ¾ø´Ù¸ç
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.
Èñ¸ÁÀÌ ¾ó°£À̶ó¸é °øÆ÷´Â °ÅÁþ¸»ÀïÀÌÀÏÁöµµ ¸ð¸¥´Ù
¾Æ¸¶ Àú ¿¬¸· µÚ¿¡¼
±×´ëÀÇ Àü¿ìµéÀº Áö±Ýµµ ÆÐÁÖÀÚµéÀ» ÃßÀûÇÒÁöµµ ¸ð¸¥´Ù
±×¸®°í ±×´ë°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó¸é ½Â¸®ÇÒÁöµµ ¸ð¸¥´Ù
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
ÁöÄ£ Æĵµ°¡ ÇêµÇÀÌ ºÎ¼Áö¸ç ¾Ö¾µÁö¶óµµ
ÀÌ°÷¿¡¼´Â ÇÑ Ä¡ÀÇ ¶¥µµ Á¡·ÉÇÏÁö ¸øÇÏ´Â µíÇÏÁö¸¸
Àú ³»·ú¿¡¼´Â ½Ã³»¿Í ÈĹ̷ΠÀüÁøÇϸé¼
´ëÇØ°¡ Á¶¿ëÈ÷ ¹Ð·Á¿À°í ÀÖÁö ¾Ê´Â°¡
And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light,
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.
ÇÞ»ìÀÌ µé¾î¿Ã ¶§
ºµÀº µ¿ÂÊÀÇ Ã¢À¸·Î¸¸ µé¾î¿ÀÁö ¾Ê³ª´Ï
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