영어소설 THE STARS -Alphonse Daudet

[놀란토끼눈]

THE STARS

     (A Story of a Provençal Shepherd)

                                by Alphonse Daudet

 When I was a shepherd on the Luberon, I did not see my friends for weeks. I was alone in the pasture

 with my dog Labri.

From time to time, there passed the hermit of Mont-de-l'Ure searching for medical plants,

or some charcoal burner with a sun-burned face of the people of Piémont.

They were simple, artless people, silent because they were for so long alone, not interested in talking and

 without any knowledge of what was being discussed in villages and towns.

Therefore, every two weeks, when I heard on the mountain road the bells of a mule from our farm

carrying two weeks' provisions, and saw the head of farmer's boy or the reddish-brown hood of the old

ant, Norade, appearing over the hill, I felt very happy.

They told me the news of the low country, of baptisms, and marriages; but what interested me most was

the news about the daughter of my master, our lady Stéphanette, the most beautiful girl for miles around.

Pretending indifference, I asked them if she had often visited festivals or if she had new suitors.

Some people asked me how a poor mountain shepherd such as I should be interested in those things,

and I answered that I was twenty and that Mlle.Stéphanette was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen

in my life.

Well, one Sunday I was waiting for two weeks' provisions, but they were very late in coming.

In the morning I had said to myself :

"It is surely because of the High Mass."

Then, towards noon, it began to be very stormy, and I thought that the mule had not started on account of

the bad state of the roads.

At last, about three o'clock, the sky became clear, and the mountain was bright with the sun after the rain.

I heard, among the dripping of rain from the leaves and the sound of the swelling brooks,

the bells of a mule as gay, as sharp, as the loud sound of the bells on Easter Day.

But the one who led the mule was neither the little boy nor old Norade. It was... guess who!...

our young lady herself, seated upright between the wicker baskets, rosy-complexioned,

in the fresh air of the mountain after the storm.

The little boy was ill, and Ant Norade was at her children's on a short leave. The beautiful Stéphanette,

 getting down from the mule, told me all about it, adding that she arrived late because she had lost her way.

But, dressed up in her Sunday clothes, with her ribbon of floral design, her bright petticoat and her lacework,

 she looked if she had been dancing, not lost in the mountains.

Oh, the sweet creature! I was never tired of looking at her. I had never seen her so close before.

Sometimes, in winter, when the flocks descended to the plain, and when I returned to the farm

for suffer in the evening, I had seen her walking briskly across the room, hardly speaking

to servants, always well dressed and looking rather proud.

And now there she was before me, for no one but me. Was it not enough to make me crazy?

When Stéphanette had taken the provisions from the baskets, she looked about her curiously.

 Raising her beautiful, delicate skirt a little, she entered the fold, and wanted to see the place where I slept,

a bed of straw covered with the sheepskin.

My big mantle hung on the wall, with my staff and my gun. Everything interested her.

"Then you're living here, my poor shepherd? You must be bored to death to be always alone! What do you do?

 What do you think of...?"

How I wished to say "Of you, Mille.Stéphanette!" but I was so confused that I could not find a single word.

I believe that she noticed it, but mischievous girl took pleasure in interesting my embarrassment.

"And your sweetheart, shepherd, often comes up to see you?... It must be a golden she-goat or

that fairy Esérelle who runs only on the tops of the mountains..."

And she looked like the fairy Esérelle, with her way of throwing her head back laughing,

and being in a hurry to return like a ghost.

"Good-bye, shepherd."

"Good-bye, Mille.Stéphanette!"

And she went away, with her empty baskets, When she disappeared beyond the sloping path, the pebbles,

which rolled beneath the hoofs of the mule, seemed to fall one by one on my heart.

I heard them for a very long time; and till the end of the day I remained drowsy, not daring to move,

for fear of awaking from my dream.

Towards evening, as the bottom of the valley began to get misty and dark, and the sheep pressed against one another to return to the enclosure, I heard some one calling me on the slope, and saw our young lady,

Mille. Stéphanette, coming up, no longer smiling but drenched, trembling with cold and fear.

At the foot of the mountain she had found the Sorgue swollen by the rain. Trying to cross it,

she was almost drowned. Now it was too late for her to return to the farm; for she could not find the cut alone,

and I could never have left the flock.

The idea of passing a night on the mountain troubled her very much, especially because her family would be anxious about her. I comforted her as best I could.

"It's July now. The night is short time."

I made a big fire at once to dry her feet and dress soaked with the waters of the Sorgue.

 Then I brought her some milk and cheese; but the poor girl neither warmed herself nor ate. At sight of tears gathering in her eyes, I too felt like weeping.

In the meantime, the night had come. On the tops of the mountains there remained only the golden dust of the sun and a vapour of light in the west. I said to Mille. Stéphanette that it would be well for her to rest in the enclosure.

Spreading a beautiful new goatskin on the new straw, I said good night to her and went to sit outside at the gate.

God is my witness that, in spite of the fire of love that burned in my blood, no wicked thought arose in me, nothing but great pride that in a corner of the enclosure, near the curious flock looking at her sleeping, the daughter of my master - like a ewe more precious and more immaculate than any others - was asleep, confident that I would keep her safe.

Suddenly the lattice of the enclosure opened, and the beautiful Stéphanette appeared. She could not sleep.

The sheep moved and made the straw rustle, or, bleated in their dreams. She wanted to come near the fire.

I threw my she-goat skin on her shoulders, stirred the fire; and we were seated, close together without speaking.

If you pass the night in the open air, you know that when you are asleep, a mysterious world is awaking in the solitude and silence.

Then springs sing more clearly; ponds stir with hidden life. All the spirits of the mountain come and go freely;

and there are in the air rustling sounds, imperceptible noises, as if the branches were growing and the grasses shooting forth.

The day is the world of creatures; but the night is the life of things. Accustomed to it as one is,

one cannot help feeling fear...

Therefore, Mille. Stéphanette was all of a tremble, and pressed herself close against me at the slightest sound.

Once, a long, melancholy cry came up to us, like a wave At the same moment a beautiful star, shooting,

passed over our heads in the same direction, as if the sad cry that we had just heard carried a light with it.

"What is it?" Stéphanette asked me in a low voice.

"A soul that enters a paradise, Mademoiselle." I answered and made the sign of the Cross.

She crossed herself, too, and remained for a moment thoughtful, looking up. Then she said:

"Then it is true that you shepherd are sorcerers, you and the others?"

"Not at all, young lady. But here we live nearer the stars, and we know better what passes there than

 the people of the plain."

She continued to look up, her head supported with her hand, and wrapped in a sheepskin like

a little heavenly shepherd.

"How many stars! How beautiful! I've never seen so many stars... Do you know their names, shepherd?"

"Oh, yes, Mademoiselle... Listen! Just above us, there the Way of Saint Jacques, (the Milky Way).

It goes from France straight to Spain. It was Saint Jacques de Galice who drew it to show

the brave Charlemagne his way when he made war against Saracens.

"Farther on you see the Carriage of Souls, (the Great Bear), with its glorious axles.

The three stars before it are the Three beasts, and that small one near the third, and that small

one near the third is the Driver.

"Do you see that rain of falling stars all around? They are the souls that God does not wish to keep by Him...,

A little lower, you see the Rake or the Three kings(Orion). It serves us shepherds for a clock.

We have only to look up there to know that it is past midnight.

"A little lower, always towards the south, shines Jean de Milan(Sirius).

About that star the following story is told among the shepherds.

"One night Jean de Milan, with the Three kings and the Chicken coop(Pleiades),

was invited to wedding of a star of their friends.

"The Chicken coop, in haste, started, they say, first and went along the high raod.

Look at her, up there, at the bottom of the sky. The Three kings took a short cut and overtook her;

but the lazy Jean de Milan, who had been sleeping late, was left far behind.

He got angry and threw his staff at them to stop them.

 That is why the Three kings is called the Staff of Jean de Milan ...

"But the most beautiful of the stars, young lady, is the Star of the shepherd,

which lights us at dawn when we bring out the flock, and also in the evening when we bring it in."

"We call her Maguelonne too, the beautiful Maguelonne who runs after Pierre de Provence(Saturn) and marries

him every seven years."

"What! Are there marriages of stars, shepherd?"

"Oh, yes, Mademoiselle."

As I was going to explain to her what those marriage were, I felt something fresh and fine weighting

 lightly upon my shoulder.

It was her head, made heavy by sleep, supporting itself against me with a pretty sound of ribbons and laces and waving hair.

She remained thus without moving till the stars got pale, effaced by the rising sun. I watched her sleeping, a little troubled in mind, but holily protected by that clear night that gave me nothing but beautiful thoughts.

Around us the stars continued their silent march, gentle like a great flock; and sometimes I imagined one of the stars, the finest and the most brilliant, having her way, and lying on my shoulders to sleep ...

일전에 휴가 갈때 기차를 4시간 정도 타야해서 급히 갈 이유가 없어 가장 느린 기차를 탔습니다.

뭔가 읽을 것을 가지고 간다고 급하게 집어 든 것이 알퐁소 도데의 단편이었습니다.

'별'은 고등학생 때 국어1 시간에 재미 나게 배워서 그 기억이나 한 숨에 읽었습니다.

마지막 장면은  가수 이용씨의 어떤 노래 '그 대 잠든 머리 맡에 가만히 앉아 이밤을 지키는 나는

 나는 바람이려오'(정확한지는 모르겠음) 가 떠 올랐습니다.

 여름 밤엔 은하수가 하늘에 흐릅니다. 한번 별나라 산책을 하는 것도 좋겠습니다.

참고로 알퐁소 도데의 '별'에 나오는 별들은 우리 나라에서는 겨울에 볼 수 있습니다.

경도가 달라서 인지 프랑스에서는 그런가 봅니다. 밤이 깊어도 하루밤에 두 계절의 별 밖에 볼 수없는데...

하루밤을 새워 별을 보면 초저녁에서 자정 까지는 여름이면 여름별들이 정점을 차지하고 자정지나 새벽까지는

가을 별들이 나오더라구요.

별은 누구에게나 보이지만 아무에게나 말하지는 않는다고 합니다 자꾸자꾸 보면 별들의 이야기를 들을 수 있다고 합니다.

올 여름 에는 별들의 이야기를 한번 들어 보세요.

[estere]

알퐁스 도데 그는 제가 제일 좋아하는 작가 입니다. 그의 장편소설 르 쁘디 쇼즈(꼬마 철학자)를 읽고 많이 울었던 기억이 새롭습니다. 그는 주로 단편을 썼다지요.. 스테파네트아가씨에 대한 그의 순수한 사랑이 어른이 된 지금도 아름다운 기억으로 남습니다. 맞아요.. 고교때 국어교과서(저랑 비슷한 연령 이시군요.) 그때 국어선생님이 그러셨어요.. "이건 말이 안 되는 소설이야.. 부자집 아가씨가 뭐하러 산속 깊은곳에 목동을 찾아가.. 하인도 많을거고 뭣보다 부모가 보낼리 만무지.." 이치에 맞던 안 맞던 저는 그의 단편중 최고라 생각하며 다음으로는 비제의 아름다운 곡으로 재탄생 하였다는 "아를르의 여인"을 꼽습니다.

[놀란토끼눈]

네, 저도 꼬마 철학자 좋아해요. 알퐁소 도데는 참 밝맑으 신 분 같습니다.'별'을 비판도 많이 하지만 아름답고 시적인 것 도 사실이예요.