February 03, 2022

Taylor Swift - the lakes

Taylor Swift - the lakes

2020๋…„ 8์›” ํ…Œ์ผ๋Ÿฌ ์Šค์œ„ํ”„ํŠธ์˜ 8์ง‘ folklore์˜ ๋””๋Ÿญ์Šค ์—๋””์…˜ ๋ณด๋„ˆ์Šค ํŠธ๋ž™์— ์‹ค๋ ค์žˆ๋˜ ๊ณก, the lakes.

1๋…„ ์ข€ ์•ˆ ๋œ 2021๋…„ 7์›”์— ์˜ค๋ฆฌ์ง€๋„ ๋ฒ„์ „์ด ๊ณต๊ฐœ๋˜์—ˆ์Šต๋‹ˆ๋‹ค.

ํ…Œ์ผ๋Ÿฌ์˜ ์ง„์งœ ์†๋งˆ์Œ์€ ์•Œ ์ˆ˜ ์—†์ง€๋งŒ...

"Is it romantic
how all my elegies eulogize me?
๋‚ญ๋งŒ์ ์ด์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”?
์ฃฝ์Œ์„ ์• ๋„ํ•˜๋Š” ๋‚˜์˜ ๋น„๊ฐ€(ๆ‚ฒๆญŒ)๊ฐ€ ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์นญ์†กํ•˜๋Š”์ง€"

์ด๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ์‹œ์ž‘๋˜๋Š” ๊ฐ€์‚ฌ๋Š” ํ…Œ์ผ๋Ÿฌ๊ฐ€ ์ƒ์ฒ˜๋ฅผ ๋ฐ›์•˜๊ณ , ๊ทธ๋ ‡์ง€๋งŒ ๊ทธ ์ƒ์ฒ˜๋ฅผ ๋งž๋ฐ›์•„์น˜๋ ค๋Š” ๊ฒŒ ๋А๊ปด์ง‘๋‹ˆ๋‹ค.

"I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones
These hunters with cell phones
๋‚˜๋Š” ์ด๋Ÿฐ ๋ชจ๋“  ๋ƒ‰์†Œ์ ์ธ ํด๋ก ๋“ค๊ณผ ๋งž์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”
(๊ทธ๋“ค์€) ํ•ธ๋“œํฐ์„ ๋“  ์‚ฌ๋ƒฅ๊พผ๋“ค์ด์ฃ "

ํ•ธ๋“œํฐ์„ ๋“  ์‚ฌ๋ƒฅ๊พผ์€ ์•…ํ”Œ๋Ÿฌ๋“ค์ด ๋– ์˜ค๋ฆ…๋‹ˆ๋‹ค.

"With my calamitous love
and insurmountable grief
๋‚˜์˜ ์žฌ๋‚œ์„ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์˜ค๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋ž‘๊ณผ
๊ทน๋ณตํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋Š” ์Šฌํ””๊ณผ ํ•จ๊ป˜"

์‚ฌ๋ž‘ ์—ญ์‹œ ๊ทธ๋…€๋ฅผ ํž˜๋“ค๊ฒŒ ํ•˜๊ณ  ์žˆ๋‹ค๋Š” ์ƒ๊ฐ์ด ๋“œ๋Š” ๋ถ€๋ถ„์ด์ฃ .

"Take me to the Lakes
where all the poets went to die
๋‚˜๋ฅผ ํ˜ธ์ˆ˜๋กœ ๋ฐ๋ ค๊ฐ€ ์ค˜์š”
๋ชจ๋“  ์‹œ์ธ๋“ค์ด ์ฃฝ์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ”์—ˆ๋˜ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์œผ๋กœ"

์ด ๋ถ€๋ถ„์„ ๋ณด๋ฉด ํ…Œ์ผ๋Ÿฌ๊ฐ€ ์ฃฝ์Œ๊นŒ์ง€ ์ƒ๊ฐํ• ๋งŒํผ ํž˜๋“  ์‹œ๊ฐ„์„ ๋ณด๋‚ผ ๋•Œ์˜ ๋…ธ๋ž˜๊ฐ€ ์•„๋‹ˆ์—ˆ์„๊นŒ ์‹ถ์Šต๋‹ˆ๋‹ค.

"A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground
With no one around to tweet it
์–ผ์–ด๋ถ™์€ ๋Œ€์ง€ ์–ผ์Œ ์œ„๋กœ ๋นจ๊ฐ„ ์žฅ๋ฏธ ํ•œ ์†ก์ด๊ฐ€ ์ž๋ž์–ด์š”
๊ทธ๊ฒƒ์„ ํŠธ์œ—ํ•  ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์ด ์•„๋ฌด๋„ ์—†์ด

While I bathe in cliffside pools
๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ฒผ๋ž‘ ์˜†์˜ ๋ชป์—์„œ ๋ชฉ์š•ํ•˜๋Š” ๋™์•ˆ์—"

ํ•ธ๋“œํฐ์„ ๋“  ์‚ฌ๋ƒฅ๊พผ๋“ค์€ ์ฐจ๊ฐ‘๊ฒŒ ์–ผ์–ด๋ถ™์€ ๋Œ€์ง€๋ฅผ ๋šซ๊ณ  ์˜ฌ๋ผ์˜ค๋Š” ํ•œ ์†ก์ด ์žฅ๋ฏธ๊ฝƒ์—๋Š” ๊ด€์‹ฌ์ด ์—†์ฃ .

"I'm setting off,
but not without my muse
๋‚˜๋Š” ์ถœ๋ฐœํ•˜๋ ค ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ, 
๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฎค์ฆˆ์—†์ด๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์ฃ 

No, not without you
๋‹น์‹ ์—†์ด๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”"

๋‹ค์‹œ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ, ์‚ฌ๋ž‘์ด ํ•„์š”ํ•จ์„ ๋…ธ๋ž˜ํ•˜๋Š”๊ฒŒ ์•„๋‹๊นŒ ์‹ถ์Šต๋‹ˆ๋‹ค.

Taylor Swift - The Lakes (original version) [audio]
https://youtu.be/y8tF0yRl8-w

Is it romantic
how all my elegies eulogize me?
๋‚ญ๋งŒ์ ์ด์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”?
์ฃฝ์Œ์„ ์• ๋„ํ•˜๋Š” ๋‚˜์˜ ๋น„๊ฐ€(ๆ‚ฒๆญŒ)๊ฐ€ ์–ผ๋งˆ๋‚˜ ๋‚˜๋ฅผ ์นญ์†กํ•˜๋Š”์ง€

I'm not cut out for all these cynical clones
These hunters with cell phones
๋‚˜๋Š” ์ด๋Ÿฐ ๋ชจ๋“  ๋ƒ‰์†Œ์ ์ธ ํด๋ก ๋“ค๊ณผ ๋งž์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”
(๊ทธ๋“ค์€) ํ•ธ๋“œํฐ์„ ๋“  ์‚ฌ๋ƒฅ๊พผ๋“ค์ด์ฃ 

Take me to the Lakes
where all the poets went to die
๋‚˜๋ฅผ ํ˜ธ์ˆ˜๋กœ ๋ฐ๋ ค๊ฐ€ ์ค˜์š”
๋ชจ๋“  ์‹œ์ธ๋“ค์ด ์ฃฝ์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ”์—ˆ๋˜ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์œผ๋กœ

I don't belong and, my beloved,
neither do you
๋‚˜๋Š” ์•„๋ฌด๊ณณ์—๋„ ์†ํ•ด์žˆ์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋‚˜์˜ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘
๋‹น์‹ ๋„ ๋งˆ์ฐฌ๊ฐ€์ง€์ฃ 

Those Windermere peaks
look like a perfect place to cry
์œˆ๋”๋ฏธ์–ด ๋ถ•์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋“ค์€
์šธ๊ธฐ์— ์™„๋ฒฝํ•œ ์žฅ์†Œ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋ณด์—ฌ์š”

I'm setting off, but not without my muse
๋‚˜๋Š” ์ถœ๋ฐœํ•˜๋ ค ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ, ๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฎค์ฆˆ์—†์ด๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์ฃ 

What should be over
burrowed under my skin
๋๋‚ด์•ผ ํ•˜๋Š” ๊ฒƒ์€ 
๋‚ด ํ”ผ๋ถ€ ์•„๋ž˜ ํŒŒ๋ฌปํ˜€ ์žˆ์–ด์š”.

In heart-stopping waves of hurt
๊ฐ€์Šด์ด ๋ฉŽ๋Š” ๋“ฏํ•œ ์ƒ์ฒ˜์˜ ๋ฌผ๊ฒฐ ์•ˆ์—

I've come too far to watch some
namedropping sleaze
๋‚˜๋Š” ๊ทธ๋“ค์„ ์ง€์ผœ๋ณด๊ธฐ์—๋Š” ๋„ˆ๋ฌด ๋ฉ€๋ฆฌ ์™€ ๋ฒ„๋ ธ์ฃ 
๋‚˜์˜ ์ด๋ฆ„์„ ํŒ”๊ณ  ๋‹ค๋‹ˆ๋Š” ๋ถ€๋„๋•ํ•œ ์‚ฌ๋žŒ๋“ค

Tell me what are my words worth
๋‚ด ๋ง์˜ ๊ฐ€์น˜๊ฐ€ ๋ฌด์—‡์ธ์ง€ ๋‚ด๊ฒŒ ๋งํ•ด์ค˜์š”

Take me to the Lakes
where all the poets went to die
๋‚˜๋ฅผ ํ˜ธ์ˆ˜๋กœ ๋ฐ๋ ค๊ฐ€ ์ค˜์š”
๋ชจ๋“  ์‹œ์ธ๋“ค์ด ์ฃฝ์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ”์—ˆ๋˜ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์œผ๋กœ

I don't belong and, my beloved,
neither do you
๋‚˜๋Š” ์•„๋ฌด๊ณณ์—๋„ ์†ํ•ด์žˆ์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋‚˜์˜ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘
๋‹น์‹ ๋„ ๋งˆ์ฐฌ๊ฐ€์ง€์ฃ 

Those Windermere peaks
look like a perfect place to cry
์œˆ๋”๋ฏธ์–ด ๋ถ•์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋“ค์€
์šธ๊ธฐ์— ์™„๋ฒฝํ•œ ์žฅ์†Œ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋ณด์—ฌ์š”

I'm setting off, but not without my muse
๋‚˜๋Š” ์ถœ๋ฐœํ•˜๋ ค ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ, ๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฎค์ฆˆ์—†์ด๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์ฃ 

I want auroras and sad prose
๋‚˜๋Š” ์—ฌ๋ช…๊ณผ ์Šฌํ”ˆ ์‚ฐ๋ฌธ์„ ์›ํ•ด์š”

I want to watch wisteria grow right
over my bare feet
๋‚˜๋Š” ๋“ฑ๋‚˜๋ฌด๊ฐ€ ๊ณง๊ฒŒ ์ž๋ผ๋Š” ๊ฒƒ์„ ๋ณด๊ณ  ์‹ถ์–ด์š”
๋‚˜์˜ ๋งจ๋ฐœ ์œ„์—์„œ 

'Cause I haven't moved in years
๋‚˜๋Š” ๋ช‡๋…„ ๋™์•ˆ ์›€์ง์ด์ง€ ์•Š์•˜์—ˆ๊ธฐ์—

And I want you right here
๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋‚œ ๋‹น์‹ ์ด ๋ฐ”๋กœ ์—ฌ๊ธฐ์— ์žˆ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ์›ํ•ด์š”

A red rose grew up out of ice frozen ground
With no one around to tweet it
์–ผ์–ด๋ถ™์€ ๋Œ€์ง€ ์–ผ์Œ ์œ„๋กœ ๋นจ๊ฐ„ ์žฅ๋ฏธ ํ•œ ์†ก์ด๊ฐ€ ์ž๋ž์–ด์š”
๊ทธ๊ฒƒ์„ ํŠธ์œ—ํ•  ์‚ฌ๋žŒ์ด ์•„๋ฌด๋„ ์—†์ด

While I bathe in cliffside pools
๋‚ด๊ฐ€ ๋ฒผ๋ž‘ ์˜†์˜ ๋ชป์—์„œ ๋ชฉ์š•ํ•˜๋Š” ๋™์•ˆ์—

With my calamitous love
and insurmountable grief
๋‚˜์˜ ์žฌ๋‚œ์„ ๊ฐ€์ ธ์˜ค๋Š” ์‚ฌ๋ž‘๊ณผ
๊ทน๋ณตํ•  ์ˆ˜ ์—†๋Š” ์Šฌํ””๊ณผ ํ•จ๊ป˜

Take me to the Lakes
where all the poets went to die
๋‚˜๋ฅผ ํ˜ธ์ˆ˜๋กœ ๋ฐ๋ ค๊ฐ€ ์ค˜์š”
๋ชจ๋“  ์‹œ์ธ๋“ค์ด ์ฃฝ์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ”์—ˆ๋˜ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์œผ๋กœ

I don't belong and, my beloved,
neither do you
๋‚˜๋Š” ์•„๋ฌด๊ณณ์—๋„ ์†ํ•ด์žˆ์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋‚˜์˜ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘
๋‹น์‹ ๋„ ๋งˆ์ฐฌ๊ฐ€์ง€์ฃ 

Those Windermere peaks
look like a perfect place to cry
์œˆ๋”๋ฏธ์–ด ๋ถ•์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋“ค์€
์šธ๊ธฐ์— ์™„๋ฒฝํ•œ ์žฅ์†Œ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋ณด์—ฌ์š”

I'm setting off, but not without my muse
๋‚˜๋Š” ์ถœ๋ฐœํ•˜๋ ค ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ, ๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฎค์ฆˆ์—†์ด๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์ฃ 

Not without you
๋‹น์‹ ์—†์ด๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”

Take me to the Lakes
where all the poets went to die
๋‚˜๋ฅผ ํ˜ธ์ˆ˜๋กœ ๋ฐ๋ ค๊ฐ€ ์ค˜์š”
๋ชจ๋“  ์‹œ์ธ๋“ค์ด ์ฃฝ์œผ๋Ÿฌ ๊ฐ”์—ˆ๋˜ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์œผ๋กœ

I don't belong and, my beloved,
neither do you
๋‚˜๋Š” ์•„๋ฌด๊ณณ์—๋„ ์†ํ•ด์žˆ์ง€ ์•Š์•„์š”. ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ๋‚˜์˜ ์‚ฌ๋ž‘
๋‹น์‹ ๋„ ๋งˆ์ฐฌ๊ฐ€์ง€์ฃ 

Those Windermere peaks
look like a perfect place to cry
์œˆ๋”๋ฏธ์–ด ๋ถ•์šฐ๋ฆฌ๋“ค์€
์šธ๊ธฐ์— ์™„๋ฒฝํ•œ ์žฅ์†Œ์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ๋ณด์—ฌ์š”

I'm setting off,
but not without my muse
๋‚˜๋Š” ์ถœ๋ฐœํ•˜๋ ค ํ•˜์ง€๋งŒ, 
๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฎค์ฆˆ์—†์ด๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์ฃ 

No, not without you
๋‹น์‹ ์—†์ด๋Š” ์•„๋‹ˆ์—์š”

No comments:

Post a Comment