교수님 켄터베리 테일 영타본입니다..(__)

[이 나영]

교수님

켄터베리 테일의 여러 글 중 아래의 것이 저희가 배우는 것이랍니다.

단어는 다 찾았는데 해석이 안되어 이렇게 잠을 설치고 2일을 새고 있답니다.ㅠㅠ

해석본도 두개나 구했는데

맞지가 않아 애만 타네요..ㅜㅜ

교직이 걸려 있어 잠을 못잔답니다..

염치 불구하고 올립니다.. (__)

영타 치기도 버거워 하는 주변머리랍니다..ㅠㅠ

느..을 감사드리는 맘이예요.. ㅠㅠ (__)

When April with his showers sweet with fruit

The drought of March has pierced unto the root

And bathed each vein with liquor that has power

Th generate therein and sire the flower,

When Zephyr also has, with his sweet breath,

Quickened agin, in every holt and heath,

The tender shoots and buds, and the young sun

Into the Ram one half his course has run,

And many little birds make melody

That sleep through all the night with open eye

(So Nature pricks them on to ramp and rage)-

Then do folk long to go on pilgrimage,

And palmers to go seeking out strange strands,

To distant shrines well known in sundry lands.

And specially from every shire's end

Of England thy to Canterbury wend,

The holy blessed martyr there to seek

Who helped them when the lay so ill and weak.

Befell that, in that season, on a day

In Southwark, at the Tabard, as I lay

Ready to start upon my pilgrimage

To Canterbury, full of devout homage,

There came at nightfall to that hostelry

Some nine and twenty in a company

Of sundry persons who had chanced to fall

In fellowship, and pilgrims were they all

That toward Canterbury town would ride.

The rooms and stables spacious were and wide,

And well we there were eased, and of the gest.

And briefly, when the sun had gone to rest,

So had I spoken with them, every one,

That I was of their fellowship anon

And made agreement that we'd early rise

To take the road, as you I will apprise.

But none the less, whilst I have time and space.

Before yet farther in this tale I pace,

It seems to me accordant with reason

To inform you of the state of every one

Of all of these, as it appeared to me,

And who they were, and what was their degree,

And even how arraved there at the inn,

And with a knight thus will I first begin

A knight there was, and he a worthy man,

Who, from the moment that he first began

To ride about the world, loved chivalry

Truth, honour, freedom and all courtesy

Full worthy was he in his liege-lord's war,

And therein had he ridden (none more far)

As well in Christendom as heathenesse,

And honoured everywhere for worthiness.

At Alexandria, he, when it was won,

Full oft the table's he, and Russia,

No christened man so oft of his degree

In far Granada at the siege was he

Of Algeciras, and in Belmarie.

At Ayas was he and at Satalye

When they were won, and on the Middle sea

At many a noble meeting chanced to be

Of mortal battles He had fought fifteen,

And he'd fought for our faith at Tramissene

Three times in lists, and each time slain his foe.

This self-same worthy knight had been also

At one time with the lord of Palatye

Against another heathen in Turkey :

And always won he sovereign fame for prize.

Though so illustrious, he was very wise

And bore himself as meekly as a maid

He never yet had any vileness said,

In all his life, to whatsoever wight.

He was a truly perfect, gentle knight

But now, to tell you all of his array,

His steeds were good, but yet he was not gay

Of simple fustian wore he a jupon

Sadly discoloured by his habergeon,

For he had lately come form his voyage

And now was going on this pilgrimage.

With him there was his son, a youthful squire,

A lover and a lusty bachelor,

With locks well curled, as if they'd laid in press

Some twenty years of age he was, I guess.

In stature he was of an average length,

Wondrously active, aye, and great of strength.

He'd ridden sometime with the cavalry

In Flanders, in Artois, and Picardy,

And borne him well within that little space

In hope to win thereby his lady's grace.

Prinked out he was, as if he were a mead,

All full of fresh-cut flowers white and red.

Singing he was, of fluting, all the day;

He was as fresh as is the month of May.

Short was his gown, with sleeves long and wide

Well could be sit on horse, and fairly ride.

He could make songs and words thereto indite,

Joust, and dance too, as well as sketch and write.

So hot he loved that, while night told her tale,

He slept no more than does a nightingale.

Courteous he, and humble, willing and able,

And carved before his father at the table.

A yeoman had he, nor more servants. no,

At that time, for he chose to travel so,

And he was clad in coat and hood of green.

A sheaf of peacock arrows bright, and keen

Under his belt he bore right carefully

(Well could he keep his tackle yeomanly;

His arrows had no draggled feathers low),

And in his hand he bore a mighty bow

A cropped head had he and a sun-browned face.

Of woodcraft knew he all the useful ways.

Upon his arm he bore a bracer gay,

And at one side a sword and buckler, yea,

And at the other side a dagger bright.

Well sheathed and sharp as spear point in the light,

On breast a Christopher of silver sheen.

He bore a horn in baldric all of green.

A forester he truly was, I guess.

There was also a nun, a prioress,

Who, in her smiling, modest was and coy,

Her greatest oath was but "By Saint Eloy!"

And she was known as Madam Eglantine.

Full wall she sang the services divine.

Intoning through her nose, becomingly,

And fair she spoke her French, and fluently,

After the school of Stratford-at-the-Bow,

For French of Paris was not hers to know

At table she had been well taught withal,

And never from her lips let morsels fall,

Nor dipped her fingers deep in sauce. but ate

With so much care the food upon her plate

That never driblet fell upon her breast

In courtesy she had delight and zest

Her upper lip was always wiped so clean

That in her cup was no iota seen

Of grease, when she had drunk her draught of wine.

Becomingly she reached for meat to dine

And certainly delighting in good sport,

She was right pleasant, amiable- in short

She was at pains to counterfeit the look

Of courtliness, and stately manners took,

And would be held worthy of reverence

But, to say something of her moral sense,

She was so charitable and piteous

That she would weep if she but saw a mouse

Caught in a trap, though it were dead or bled

She had some little dogs, too, that she fed

On roasted flesh, or milk and fine white bread

But ( ?　）she'd weep if one of them were dead.

Or ( ? ) smote it with a rod to smart

For pity ruled her, and her tender heart.

Right decorous her pleated wimple was;

Her nose was fine; her eyes were blue as glass;

Her mouth was small and therewith soft and red,

But certainly she had a fair forehead,

It was almost a full span broad, I own,

For, truth to tell, she was not undergrown.

Neat was her cloak, as I was well aware.

Of coral small about her arm she'd bear

A string of beads and gauded all with green,

And therefrom hung a brooch of golden sheen

Whereon there was first written a crowned "A,"

And under. Amor Vincit Omnia.

Another little nun with her had she.

Who was her chaplain, and of priests she'd three.

A monk there was, one made for mastery,

An outrider, who loved his venery

A manly man, to be an abbot able.

Full many a blooded horse had he in stable

And when he rode men might his bridle hear

A-jingling in the whistling sind as clear,

Aye, and as loud as does the chapel bell

Where this brave monk was of the cell

The rule of Maurus or Saint Benedict,

By reason it was old and somewhat strict,

This said monk let such old things slowly pace

And followed new-world manners in their place

He cared not for that text a clean-plucked hen

Which holds that hunters are mot holy men,

Nor that a monk, when he is cloisterless,

Is like unto a fish that's waterless;

That is to say, a monk out of his cloister.

But this same text he held not worth an oyster,

And I said his opinion was right good

What? Should he study as a madman would

Upon a book in cloister cell? Or yet

Go labour with his hands and swink and sweat.

As Austin bids? How shall the world be served ?

Let Austin have his toil to him reserved

Therefore he was a rider day and night,

Greyhounds he had, as swift as bird in flight.

Since riding and the hunting of the hare

Were all his love, for no cost would he spare.

I saw his sleeves were purfled at the hand

With fur of grey, the finest in the land;

Also, to fasten hood beneath his chin,

He had of good wrought gold a curious pin

A love -knot in the larger end there was.

His head was bald and shone like any glass,

And smooth as one anointed was his face.

Fat was this lord, he stood in goodly case

I lis bulging eyes he rolled about, and hot

They gleamed and red, like fire beneath a pot.

His boots were soft, his horse of great estate.

Now certainly he was a fine prelate.

He was not pale as some poor wasted ghost

A fat swan loved he vest of any roast.

His palfrey was as brown as is a berry

[여국현]

내일이나 모레쯤 우리말로 옮겨 놓을게요~

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넘 넘 감사드려요..ㅠㅠ 서울 올라가 뵙겟습니다..ㅠㅠ (허락해 주신다면요..)

[여국현]

시읽기에 번역 올려놓겠습니다. 올라오실 기회 생기면 연락하세요~

[이 나영]

네..감사합니다..중간고사 마치고 이곳에 연락 드리고 갈께요.. 넘 넘 감사드려요.. (__) 열심히 공부할께요..ㅜㅜ