¾î¸Ó´Ï, ´©±¸¿¡°Ô³ª ¾ÖƶÇÑ ´Ü¾îÀÔ´Ï´Ù. ¸»·Î Ç¥ÇöÇÒ ¼ö ¾øÀ» Á¤µµÀÇ »ç¶û°ú ±×¸®¿òÀ» ÁÖ´Â ´Ü¾îÀ̱⠶§¹®ÀÔ´Ï´Ù. <ÀÌ°ÍÀÌ ¾Èµ¥¸£¼¾ÀÌ´Ù> ½Ã¸®ÁîÀÇ ¿©´ü ¹ø° ÀÛÇ°, ¡¶¾î¸Ó´Ï À̾߱â(The Story of a Mother)¡·´Â ¿Ö ¾î¸Ó´Ï¶õ ´Ü¾î¸¦ ÀÌ·¸°Ô ´À³¥ ¼ö¹Û¿¡ ¾ø´ÂÁö¸¦ ±×¸° À̾߱âÀÔ´Ï´Ù. ƯÈ÷ ¡¶¾î¸Ó´Ï À̾߱â(±¹/¿µ/¿ø¹®)¡·´Â ¿µ¹®°ú ±¹¹®À» ´Ü¶ôº°·Î ºñ±³ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖµµ·Ï Á¦À۵ǾúÀ¸¸ç º°µµÀÇ ±¹¹®, ¿µ¹®, ¿ø¹®µµ ½Ç¾î ¾ð¾îº°·Îµµ ¾Èµ¥¸£¼¾À» Áñ±â½Ç ¼ö ÀÖ½À´Ï´Ù. ¿ÀÁ÷ ÀÚ½ÄÀ» À§ÇÑ »ç¶û ±×¸®°í ¹«¾ù°úµµ ºñ±³ÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Â Å« ¾î¸Ó´ÏÀÇ »ç¶ûÀ» ÀÛÇ°À» ÅëÇؼ ´Ù½Ã ÇÑ ¹ø ´À²¸º¸½Ã±â ¹Ù¶ø´Ï´Ù.
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¡°Á×À½ÀÇ »ç½ÅÀº ¹Ù¶÷º¸´Ùµµ ºü¸£Áö. ±×¸®°í ÇÑ ¹ø »©¾ÑÀº °ÍÀº Àý´ë·Î µ¹·ÁÁÖÁö ¾Ê¾Æ!¡±
¡°Death strides faster than the wind, and never brings back what he has taken away.¡±
¡íD©ªden gaaer st©¡rkere til end Vinden, han bringer aldrig tilbage hvad han tog!¡ì
- ¡¶¾î¸Ó´Ï À̾߱⡷ Áß¿¡¼
¾î¸Ó´Ï´Â ´«¹°À» È긮¸ç ³ë·¡¸¦ ºÒ·¯¾ß¸¸ ÇßÁÒ. µÎ ¼ÕÀ» ²À ¸ð¾Æ Áã°í ¸¹Àº ³ë·¡¸¦ ºÒ·¶¾î¿ä. ÇÏÁö¸¸ ±×º¸´Ù ´õ ¸¹Àº ´«¹°À» Èê·Á¾ß¸¸ Çß´ä´Ï´Ù.
Then the mother wept and sang, and wrung her hands. And there were many songs, and yet even more tears.
da vred Moderen sine H©¡nder, sang og gr©¡d, og der vare mange Viser, men endnu flere Taarer.
- ¡¶¾î¸Ó´Ï À̾߱⡷ Áß¿¡¼
°ËÀºµþ±â ³ª¹«´Â ±Ý¼¼ ÃʷϺûÀÇ »õÀÙÀ» Æ·¿ì°í ²Éµµ ÇÇ¿ü¾î¿ä. ÀÌ Ãß¿î °Ü¿ï¹ã¿¡ ¸»ÀÌ¿¡¿ä. ½½ÇÄÀ¸·Î °¡µæÇÑ ¾î¸Ó´ÏÀÇ ½ÉÀåÀº ³Ê¹«³ªµµ µû¶æÇ߰ŵç¿ä.
The bramble shot forth fresh green leaves, and they became flowers on the cold winter¡¯s night, so warm is the heart of a sorrowing mother.
Tornebusken skj©ªd friske gr©ªnne Blade og der kom Blomster paa i den kolde Vinter-Nat, saa varmt var der ved en bedr©ªvet Moders Hjerte.
- ¡¶¾î¸Ó´Ï À̾߱⡷ Áß¿¡¼
¾ÆÀ̸¦ ãÀ¸·Á¸é ¹Ýµå½Ã È£¼ö¸¦ °Ç³Ê¾ß¸¸ Çß´ä´Ï´Ù. ¾î¸Ó´Ï´Â È£¼öÀÇ ¹°À» ¸ðµÎ ¸¶¼Å ¹ö¸®·Á°í ¾þµå·È¾î¿ä. ´©±¸µµ ÇÒ ¼ö ¾ø´Â ÀÏÀÌÁö¸¸ ¾ÆÀ̸¦ ÀÒÀº ¾î¸Ó´Ï´Â ±âÀûÀÌ ÀϾÁöµµ ¸ð¸¥´Ù°í »ý°¢Çß¾î¿ä.
She must cross it, if she wished to find her child. Then she laid herself down to drink up the water of the lake, which was of course impossible for any human being to do; but the bereaved mother thought that perhaps a miracle might take place to help her.
og over den maatte hun, vilde hun finde sit Barn; saa lagde hun sig ned for at drikke S©ªen ud, og det var jo umueligt for et Menneske, men den bedr©ªvede Moder t©¡nkte, at der dog kunde skee et Mirakel.
- ¡¶¾î¸Ó´Ï À̾߱⡷ Áß¿¡¼
¡°Á¦°¡ ¾ðÁ¦³ª ÃÖ¼±ÀÎ ´ç½ÅÀÇ ¶æ¿¡ °Å½º¸£´Â ±âµµ¸¦ µå¸®¸é µé¾îÁÖÁö ¸¶¼¼¿ä. Á¦¹ß Á¦ ±âµµ¸¦ µé¾îÁÖ¼¼¿ä.¡±
¡°Grant not my prayers, when they are contrary to Thy will, which at all times must be the best. Oh, hear them not.¡±
¡íH©ªr mig ikke, hvor jeg beder imod din Villie, som er den bedste! h©ªr mig ikke!¡ì
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