- Solitude's My Home / Rod McKuen -
Above the pounding of the rain ½ñ¾ÆÁö´Â ºøÁÙ±â Àú Æí
beyond the rolling of the sea Ãâ··ÀÌ´Â Æĵµ ³Ê¸Ó
a thousand people know my name ¼ö ¸¹Àº »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ³» À̸§À» ¾Ë¾Æ
and one or two may yet know me. ±× Áß ÇÑ µÎ¸íÀº ¾ÆÁ÷µµ ³¯ ¾Ë°í ÀÖÁö
There in the middle of the night ÇÑ ¹ãÁßÀÌ µÇ¸é
I¡¯ll find a friendly face ³ ¸¶À½¿¡ µå´Â ÇÑ ¾ó±¼À» ã°Ô µÉ °Å¾ß
and I¡¯ll be taken back again ¾î¶² »õ·Î¿î »ç¶û½º·± °÷À¸·Î
to some new loving place. ´Ù½Ã À̲ø¸®°Ô µÉ °Å¾ß
And no... not being left alone ¾Æ´Ï... È¥ÀÚ ³²°ÜÁø °ÍÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï±â¿¡...
although Solitude¡¯s My Home. ºñ·Ï ¿Ü·Î¿òÀº ³ªÀÇ °íÇâÀÌÁö¸¸.
Faces there are I haven¡¯t seen ³»°¡ ¸¸³ªº» ÀûÀÌ ¾ø´Â ¾ó±¼µéÀÌ ÀÖ¾î
faces there are I¡¯ll never see °áÄÚ º¸Áö ¸øÇÒ ¾ó±¼µéÀÌ ÀÖ¾î
but what a waste it would have been ÇÏÁö¸¸ ³»°¡ ³ª ¸»°í ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷À̾ú´õ¶ó¸é
had I been anyone but me. ±×°Ô ¾ó¸¶³ª ¾µ µ¥ ¾ø´Â °ÍÀ̾úÀ»±î
Still... if I seem a little proud ÇÏÁö¸¸...³»°¡ Á» °Å¸¸ÇÑ °Í °°¾Æµµ
my head will often bend ±ºÁß ¼Ó¿¡ ¾î¶² »ç¶÷À» º¸¸é
on seeing someone in a crowd À̵û±Ý ³» ¸Ó¸®´Â ¼÷ÀÌ°Ô µÉ °Å¾ß
I¡¯ll never hope to comprehend. ³ °áÄÚ ÀÌÇØÇÏ±æ ¹Ù¶óÁö´Â ¾ÊÀº °Å¾ß
Oh no... I¡¯m not alone ¿À ¾Æ³Ä... ³ È¥ÀÚ°¡ ¾Æ³Ä
Although Solitude¡¯s My Home. ºñ·Ï ¿Ü·Î¿òÀÌ ³ªÀÇ °íÇâÀÌÁö¸¸.
I try to beg the hand of help À̵û±Ý ħ¹¬ÀÌ Èûµé°Ô µÉ ¶§
sometimes when silence gets to rough ³ µµ¿òÀÇ ¼Õ±æÀ» ±¸ÇÏ·Á°í ÇØ
all I can offer is myself ³»°¡ ÁÙ ¼ö ÀÖ´Â °Ç
that never seems to be enough. °áÄÚ ÃæºÐÇÒ °Í °°Áö ¾ÊÀº ³ª ÀڽŻÓÀÎ °É.
And yet there are some men who kill ´Ù¸¥ »ç¶÷ÀÇ ¼Õ±æº¸´Ù ´õ ÀûÀº °ÍÀ» À§ÇØ
for less than someone¡¯s hand Á×´Â »ç¶÷µéÀÌ ÀÖ¾î
at some things I can only guess ³»°¡ ´Ù¸¸ ÃßÃøÇÒ »Ó
and never hope to understand. °áÄÚ ÀÌÇØÇÏ·Á°í ¹Ù¶óÁö ¾Ê´Â ¾î¶² °Íµé¿¡
No. I¡¯m not alone ¾Æ´Ï, ³ È¥ÀÚ°¡ ¾Æ³Ä
although Solitude¡¯s My Home. ºñ·Ï ¿Ü·Î¿òÀº ³ªÀÇ °íÇâÀÌÁö¸¸.
I turn my face toward the wind ºÒ¾î¿À´Â ¹Ù¶÷À» ÇâÇØ ¾ó±¼À» µ¹¸®°í
and shuffle down the darkened street ³ ¾îµÎ¿öÁø °Å¸®¸¦ Áöô°Å¸®¸ç °È°í ÀÖ¾î
with winter coming on again °Ü¿ïÀÌ ´Ù½Ã ã¾Æ¿Ã ¶§¸é....
there¡¯s no telling who I¡¯ll meet. ³»°¡ ´©±¼ ¸¸³ª°Ô µÉ Áö´Â ¾Æ¹«µµ ¸ô¶ó
Perhaps an arm will open up ¾Æ¸¶µµ ¾î¶²ÀÌ°¡ Àá½Ã
to hold me for a while ³¯ ¾È¾ÆÁÖ±â À§ÇØ ÆÈÀ» ¹úÀÏ °Å¾ß
who knows what waits within the night ±× ¹ã »çÀÌ °ÑÀ¸·Î ³ªÅ¸³ª´Â ¿ôÀ½ ¼Ó¿¡
beneath the surface of a smile. ¹«¾ùÀÌ ±â´Ù¸®°í ÀÖ´ÂÁö ´©°¡ ¾Ë°Ú¾î
Oh no... I¡¯m not alone ¿À ¾Æ³Ä... ³ È¥ÀÚ°¡ ¾Æ³Ä
although I know Solitude¡¯s My Home. ¿Ü·Î¿òÀº ³ªÀÇ °íÇâÀ̶ó´Â °É ¾Ë°í ÀÖÁö¸¸.
Oh no... I¡¯m not alone ¿À ¾Æ³Ä.... ³ È¥ÀÚ°¡ ¾Æ³Ä
although Solitude¡¯s My Home. ºñ·Ï ¿Ü·Î¿òÀº ³ªÀÇ °íÇâÀÌÁö¸¸
(¹ø¿ª ÔÝìéà÷)
Solitude's My Home - Rod McKuen