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  • W. H. 오덴, 1939년 9월 1일
  • sukie
    Apr 27, 2017
  • 087.JPG


    September 1, 1939


    W. H. Auden (1907-1973)


    I sit in one of the dives

    On Fifty-second Street

    Uncertain and afraid

    As the clever hopes expire

    Of a low dishonest decade:

    Waves of anger and fear

    Circulate over the bright 

    And darkened lands of the earth,

    Obsessing our private lives;

    The unmentionable odour of death

    Offends the September night.


    Accurate scholarship can 

    Unearth the whole offence

    From Luther until now

    That has driven a culture mad,

    Find what occurred at Linz,

    What huge imago made

    A psychopathic god:

    I and the public know

    What all schoolchildren learn,

    Those to whom evil is done

    Do evil in return. 


    Exiled Thucydides knew

    All that a speech can say

    About Democracy,

    And what dictators do,

    The elderly rubbish they talk

    To an apathetic grave;

    Analysed all in his book,

    The enlightenment driven away,

    The habit-forming pain,

    Mismanagement and grief:

    We must suffer them all again.


    Into this neutral air

    Where blind skyscrapers use

    Their full height to proclaim

    The strength of Collective Man,

    Each language pours its vain

    Competitive excuse:

    But who can live for long

    In an euphoric dream;

    Out of the mirror they stare,

    Imperialism’s face

    And the international wrong.


    Faces along the bar

    Cling to their average day:

    The lights must never go out,

    The music must always play,

    All the conventions conspire 

    To make this fort assume

    The furniture of home;

    Lest we should see where we are,

    Lost in a haunted wood,

    Children afraid of the night

    Who have never been happy or good.


    The windiest militant trash

    Important Persons shout

    Is not so crude as our wish:

    What mad Nijinsky wrote

    About Diaghilev

    Is true of the normal heart;

    For the error bred in the bone

    Of each woman and each man

    Craves what it cannot have,

    Not universal love

    But to be loved alone.


    From the conservative dark

    Into the ethical life

    The dense commuters come,

    Repeating their morning vow;

    “I will be true to the wife,

    I’ll concentrate more on my work,"

    And helpless governors wake

    To resume their compulsory game:

    Who can release them now,

    Who can reach the deaf,

    Who can speak for the dumb?


    All I have is a voice

    To undo the folded lie,

    The romantic lie in the brain

    Of the sensual man-in-the-street

    And the lie of Authority

    Whose buildings grope the sky:

    There is no such thing as the State

    And no one exists alone;

    Hunger allows no choice

    To the citizen or the police;

    We must love one another or die.


    Defenceless under the night

    Our world in stupor lies;

    Yet, dotted everywhere,

    Ironic points of light

    Flash out wherever the Just

    Exchange their messages:

    May I, composed like them

    Of Eros and of dust,

    Beleaguered by the same

    Negation and despair,

    Show an affirming flame.


    066.JPG

    *휘트니뮤지엄의 1900-1960년 컬렉션 특별전 'WHERE WE ARE: SELECTIONS FROM THE WHITNEY’S COLLECTION, 1900–1960'(4월 28일- )는 5섹션으로 나누어 시인 W.H. 오덴(Auden)이 제 2차 세계대전 발발 직후 쓴 시 '1939년 9월 1일' 중의 싯귀 'No One Exits Alone' 'The Furniture of Home' 'The Strength pf Collective Man' 'In a Euphoric Dream' 'Of Eros and Dust'를 타이틀로 붙였다. 

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