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19. To E. T.
I slumbered with your poems on my breast,
Spread open as I dropped them half-read through
Like dove wings on a figure on a tomb,
To see if in a dream they brought of you
slumber : 선잠, 잠자다
I might not have the chance I missed in life
Through some delay, and call you to your face
First soldier, and then poet, and then both,
Who died a soldier-poet of your race.
I meant, you meant, that nothing should remain
Unsaid between us, brother, and this remained―
And one thing more that was not then to say:
The Victory for what it lost and gained.
You went to meet the shell's embrace of fire
On Vimy Ridge; and when you fell that day
The war seemed over more for you than me,
But now for me than you―the other way.
How over, though, for even me who knew
The foe thrust back unsafe beyond the Rhine,
If I was not to speak of it to you
And see you pleased once more with words of mine?
------
E.T. 에게
당신의 시집을 반쯤 읽다 중단하고,
시들을 비둘기 날개처럼 쫙 펴고는
내 가슴의 무덤에 얹고 잠을 청하니,
시와 함께 당신을 꿈꾸고 싶었습니다.
내가 생전에 미적거리다 놓쳐버린 기회는
이제 오지 않겠지만, 당신 영전에 외치오니,
당신은 첫째 군인, 그다음 시인, 그다음 둘 다이오니,
당신은 민족의 군인이자 시인으로 가셨나이다.
형제여, 우리 사이에 말 못하는 것이 아무것도
없기로, 당신과 내가 뜻을 모았는데, 이건 못 다한 말이외다―
그리고 생전에 말할 수 없었던 게 또 하나 있었으니,
나는 당신을 잃고 당신은 승리를 얻었나이다.
당신은 포탄 불의 포옹과 맞서기 위해
바이미 능선으로 갔고, 그날 당신이 쓸어졌을 때
나보다는 당신을 위해 전쟁이 끝난 듯 했지만, 거꾸로―
오늘은 당신보다는 나를 위해 끝난 듯하옵니다.
그러나 적이 패하여 라인강 너머로 밀려났음에도,
만약 내가 당신에게 승리의 소식을 전해도 그 말을 듣고
다시 한 번 즐거워할 당신의 모습은 볼 수가 없으니,
이를 아는 나에게인들 어찌 전쟁이 끝났겠소이까?
-신재실 옮김-
단상(斷想): 1912년 프로스트는 승부수를 띄웠다. 8월 23일 그를 외면하는 미국 문단을 등지고 보스턴을 떠나 9월 초 영국에 상륙한 그는 런던의 문단을 노크했다. 프랑스 계 미망인 Mme. Nutt와 미국의 국외거주자 Ezra Pound의 도움으로 1913년 4월 첫 시집 『소년의 의지』에 이어 1914년 5월 두 번째 시집『보스턴 북쪽』이 연달아 햇빛을 보면서, 프로스트는 일약 굴지의 미국시인으로서의 입지를 굳히고, 당대의 많은 문인들과 당당하게 교류하기 시작했다.
프로스트가 어느 커피숍에서 4살 연하인 35세의 에드워드 토마스를 소개받은 것은 1913년 10월이었다. 프로스트는 겨우 알려지기 시작한 신인이었지만, 토마스는 이미 12권의 책을 낸 문학평론가였다. 그러나 그의 책은 팔리지 않았고, 결혼생활 역시 행복하지 않았기에, 토마스는 자주 궁핍한 가정을 떠나 시골의 자연과 벗하면서 고독한 글쓰기에 매달렸다. 첫 만남에서 자연 및 시(詩)에 대한 생각에서 공통점이 너무나 많다는 것을 발견한 두 사람은 곧 찰떡친구가 되었다.
토마스는 프로스트가 시에서 하고자 하는 것을 누구보다도 분명히 이해했다. 1914년 7월 22일 Daily News and Leader에서 그는 프로스트의 『보스턴 북쪽』을 “현대의 가장 혁신적 작품 가운데 하나”라며 극찬하는 등 프로스트의 시를 연달아 호평했다. 한편 프로스트는 1914년 여름 토마스의 산문은 산문이 아니라 시라며, 시를 쓰라고 토마스를 격려했고 토마스는 그 해 12월 첫 시를 발표하면서 시인의 꿈을 키웠다.
그러다 1차 세계대전의 와중에 프로스트는 1915년 2월 미국으로 금의환향했다. 한편 토마스는 세 자녀의 아버지로 입대할 의무가 없는데도 37세인 1916년 7월 포병장교로 자원입대했다. 토마스는 1917년 1월 전 해 11월에 출판된 프로스트의 세 번째 시집 『산간』을 휴대하고 프랑스로 가면서, 그의 유작이 된 Poems를 친구 프로스트에게 헌정했다. 그 해 4월 9일 토마스는 프랑스 바이미 능선에서 적의 포탄을 맞고 장렬하게 산화했다. 토마스 전사 후 프로스트는 헌정 받은 토마스의 Poems를 미국 Holt사(社)에서 출판하여 토마스의 꿈을 실현하였다.
프로스트의 「E.T.에게」는 프로스트의 유일한 엘레지다. 친구를 가슴에 묻은 프로스트는 친구의 유작 시집을 비둘기 날개처럼 가슴 위에 활짝 펴고 잠을 청한다. 꿈에서라도 그를 만나고 싶어서였다. 흉금을 털어놓던 사이였지만, 지금은 하고 싶은 말이 있어도 할 수 없기에, 꿈에서라도 말하고 싶기 때문이다. 전하지 못한 말 두 가지가 있다. 첫째 당신은 죽어서 시인으로 부활했으며, 둘째 당신의 장렬한 산화는 당신의 영웅적 승리라는 겁니다.
토마스의 죽음은 1차 세계대전의 종결 즉 위대한 승리(Victory)를 의미한다. 프로스트는 친구 토마스를 잃었지만, 역설적으로 토마스는 승리한 것이다. 하지만 프로스트에게 남은 것은 친구의 비극적 죽음뿐이었기에, 프로스트는“그날 당신이 쓸어졌을 때/ 나보다는 당신을 위해 전쟁이 끝난 듯 했다”고 말한다. 그러나 토마스를 시인으로 부활시킨 오늘은 전쟁이 “당신보다는 나를 위해 끝난 듯하다”고 말한다. 친구를 가슴에 묻은 슬픔과의 전쟁이 유고집의 출판과 친구를 추모하는 엘레지로 일단락된 듯하다.
하지만 친구를 잃은 상실감을 의례화(儀禮化)할 수는 있겠지만 영원히 추방할 수는 없다. 인간과 인간으로, 시인과 시인으로 맺은 두 사람 간의 우정이 상상으로 존속할 가능성을 제외한다면, 내 “말을 듣고/ 다시 한 번 즐거워할 당신의 모습은 볼 수가 없으니,/ 이를 아는 나에게인들 어찌 전쟁이 끝났겠소이까?” 사별의 슬픔(grief)과의 전쟁은 영원한 것인가? 죽음이 존속하는 한 그럴 것이다.
-신재실 씀-
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ROBERT FROST
SPEAKING ON CAMPUS
Contents
Introduction
Getting up things to say for yourself
Where poetry comes in
Handling figures of speech
“Anxiety for the Liberal Arts”
A book side to everything
Not freedom from, but freedom of
Of rapid reading and what we call “completion”
No surprise to me, no surprise to anybody else
Pieces of knitting to go on with
Everything in the world comes in pairs
My kind of fooling
About “the great misgiving”
Wondering how convictions are had
Something you live by till you live by something else
Some gamble—something of uncertainty
The future of the world
Hang around for the refinement of sentiment
What I think I’m doing when I write a poem
Of the “elect” and the “elected”
Fall in love at sight
Thinking about generalizations
“In on the Ground Floor”
A certain restlessness
About thinking and of perishing to shine
A gentler interest in the fine things
Let’s say bravely…that poetry counts
I’ll tell you a little about my walks
Editor’s Note
References
Hang around for the refinement of sentiment
On November 17, 1959, Mr. Frost spoke at Rockhurst College, as part of the institution’s fiftieth-anniversary celebration, and received the college’s Chancellor Award. During this same interval at Kansas City, Missouri, the poet made a visit to the headquarters of Hallmark Cards Incorporated.
THIS IS GREATpleasure being in the middle of the United States with this crowd. Isn’t it something? I feel as if every year I got nearer the center of the United States, in a metaphorical way. But here I am literally at the middle of the United States, with plenty of the United States here with me. […]
I’m a teacher more than I am a farmer, but I’ve been both all the way along. And I’ve been a newspaperman, too. I’ve been—you know, American style—I’ve been a little of everything as I came up with an art—with an art, you see.
And one of the things about art is that you have to find a refuge, while you’re starting it, from hasty judgments. And farming was one for me. And teaching was another. And newspaper work was another. The years of hasty judgment I got by that way.
I wonder sometimes if anything can be done about that, to make it easier; foundations and things, if they can help—if they could find an underground cave for poets and artists to get into, against bombs, as well as hasty judgments.
You realize that I’m not judging the judges. I’m one of the judges of others, and troubled in myself all the time about the new boys coming up; how to single out those that are fit to bet on. And that is a hard part of the world, part of art and all.
The United States is more concerned about it than any country in the world, probably, unless it’s Russia. I don’t know, they seem to be working hard, too.
School is a fine thing. You can linger in school. I didn’t linger; I ran out. If I’d known enough, I would have seen that it was a fine place to hide in and a comfortable place—and a place that made it comfortable for my friends and relatives. They could say: “He’s at So-and-So. He’s at Columbia.”
As it was, as I lived it, they didn’t know what to say about me. They didn’t say, “He was failing as a poet.” That didn’t come out. It didn’t get that bad. But “he” was nothing you wanted to talk about. Those are serious things.
Now, the education. I’ve been quoted as saying, “Education is hanging round till you catch on.”36That sounds rather slangy, and it is meant to be. But it describes the whole thing, “hanging round till you catch on” that is, you hang around for the refinement of sentiment about all these things: success and failure, life and death, and religion, politics.
That’s the all-important part of it. You might as well learn two or three subjects while you’re about it, too. And that keeps you from getting too self-conscious about it all. Get busy. But the busyness isn’t the main thing—being with the right people till you get the right sentiment about many things.
Precepts don’t do it. They help a little. And there’s no teacher does as much to you as some of your fellows who just exchange glances over something foolish you say. That punishes you and that puts you in, whips you in, and teaches you about sentiment.
Sentiment is a very hard thing to talk about, and a very hard thing to practice without running into sentimentality. You’re always dancing on that dangerous verge of sentimentality. And the great masters of sentiment are the great artists, that’s all. And that is school, too, you know. The school should be a place of the great arts, the humanities.
Our schools more and more—in the last fifty years that I’ve known them and taken part in them—have been more and more like what I describe. I’m not complaining. I’m not advocating. I’m describing what they are. […]
I’ve been—speaking today—I’ve been in a place where sentiments are handled for birthdays, Christmas, and all sorts of cards. And very interesting to me to see the people at work in there, making sentiments or writing out sentiments, and pictures to go with them—and people of various nationality at work on it. And I looked seriously at ’em, the young people at the work, and I thought a great many thoughts.
For instance, they probably didn’t have any card—( I suppose they didn’t. I didn’t ask that.)—about the death of Christ—(You see, that’s one of the mighty sentiments.)—and the great sentiment about failure, defeat, and the need of mercy. Those aren’t Christmas cards.
The Christmas card is more like: “God rest ye noble gentlemen, / Know you no dismay, / For Jesus Christ, our Saviour, / Was born on Christmas day.” You know, cheerful about His life; looking at Him as a saviour of us, by what He went through. But that’s a sentimentverydifficult to handle—dark, deep sentiment. […]
Some sentiments of my books are tender things. Tenderness is another difficult thing to handle. And sometimes you wouldn’t expect to have it brought out in a crowd like this. And sometimes you wouldn’t expect to see it in a newspaper. You’d think they’d get to something tragic or dramatic or something like that. But tender and the gentle you hesitate about.
I’ve often hesitated. I have certain poems that I’ve never brought out onto my sleeve, so to speak. They’re there in the book, and I’d rather people would encounter them in the book than encounter them with me in public; quite a few of ’em.
People ask me if I don’t like those. Why do I avoid ’em all the time? It’s ’cause I like ’em too well, the ones I’m sensitive about.
But that’s one of the great questions in my life. How public is my life? It didn’t begin very publicly, you can be sure. I didn’t have to be afraid of having anybody laugh at me. They didn’t know I was there; that was all.
If they had noticed me, they might have tapped their heads, you know. I’ve known fellows who suffered the cruelty of being thought of as just a village defective—poets. I knew one through many years. […]
But the education. I’m always getting a new definition of education. It’s an old one, “hanging round till you catch on.” I made that last year. And this one is that it’s the refinement of sentiment. It’s getting you to refine your sentiments and handle your sentiments with refinement.
And the masters of sentiment are the great poets, the great dramatists, the great novelists, too.
—at Hebrew Union College, April 2, 1960:
THE PROPHETand the poet seem to me to go together, somewhat. The prophet is the great bewarer. Bewareness is his life, telling the king what to beware.
And the poet, his great thing is awareness—awareness, luxuriating in what God gives us; luxuriating in it all, the spiritual, the mental, the physical.
—Yale University, November 6, 1962:
THERE ARE two kinds of music, the music of poetry and the music of music, and they aren’t the same thing.