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Yeah, we'll see.
Hey. Coming to the study group tonight?
Uh, no. No, I've got some history I want to do.
Suit yourself.
Ready, Overstreet? | ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ์ง
์ด๋ด, ์ค๋ ๋ฐค ์คํฐ๋ ๊ทธ๋ฃน์ ์ฌ๋?
์๋, ๋ ์ญ์ฌ ๊ณต๋ถ๋ฅผ ํด์ผ ํด
๋ค ๋ง๋๋ก ํด
์ค๋ฒ์คํธ๋ฆฌํธ, ์ค๋น๋๋? |
Chet, can you get that?
I'll get it.
Can I help you?
Hi. Knox Overstreet. Uh...
This is the Danburrys', right? Are you here to see Chet?
Sorry. Thank you, Chris. I'm Mrs. Danburry. | ์ณํธ, ๋ค๊ฐ ๋๊ฐ ์ฃผ๊ฒ ๋?
์ ๊ฐ ๋๊ฐ๊ฒ์
์ด๋ป๊ฒ ์ค์
จ์ฃ ?
์๋
ํ์ธ์ ์ ๋
น์ค ์ค๋ฒ์คํธ๋ฆฌํธ๊ณ
์ฌ๊ธฐ๊ฐ ๋๋ฒ๋ฆฌ ๊ฐ ๋ง์ฃ ? ์ณํธ ๋ง๋๋ฌ ์ค์
จ๋์?
๊ณ ๋ง๋ค, ํฌ๋ฆฌ์ค ์ ๊ฐ ๋๋ฒ๋ฆฌ ๋ถ์ธ์ด์์ |
You must be Knox. Yes.
Back by 9? Please, come on in.
Chris, come on. What are you doing?
Chet, I'm coming. Knox.
How are you? Joe Danburry. Nice to meet you, sir. | ๋ค๊ฐ ๋
น์ค๊ตฌ๋ ๋ค
9์์ ๋ฐ๋ฆฌ๋ฌ ์ค์ธ์ ์, ์ด์ ๋ค์ด์๋ผ
ํฌ๋ฆฌ์ค! ๋ญ ํด!
์ณํธ, ์ง๊ธ ๊ฐ
๋
น์ค, ์ ์์๋? ๋ ์กฐ ๋๋ฒ๋ฆฌ๋ค ๋ง๋ ๋ต๊ฒ ๋ผ ๋ฐ๊ฐ์ต๋๋ค |
Well, he's the spitting image of his father, isn't he?
How is he? Come on in. Chris.
He's great. He just did a big case for GM.
-Well, I know where you're headed. - I'm coming.
Like father, like son, huh? | ์ด๋ฐ, ์๋ฒ์ง๋ฅผ ์ฐธ ๋ง์ด ๋ฎ์๊ตฐ
์๋ฒ์ง๋ ์ ๊ณ์ ๊ฐ? ์ด์ ๋ค์ด์ค๊ฒ
ํฌ๋ฆฌ์ค ์ต๊ทผ GM์ฌ ์์ก์ ์น๋ฅด์
จ์ด์
- ๊ฐ๋ค๊ณ - ์๋ค๊ฐ ๋ญ๊ฐ ๋ ์ง ์๊ฒ ๊ตฐ
๋ถ์ ์์ ์ด์ผ |
-Yes. -Bishop to queen six.
-All right, I think that's good. -Another game?
Just replace these numbers here with X... For X and Y.
Of course. Of course, so, what's the problem? | - ์ข์์ด! - ์ฃผ๊ต๊ฐ ์ฌ์์๊ฒ
- ๋ ํ ๋? - ๋ฌด์จ ๋ป์ด์ผ?
์ด ์ซ์๋ค์ x, y๋ก ๋์น์์ผ ๋ด
๋น์ฐํ์ง ์ ์๋ฉด์ ๋ญ ๋ฌป๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ? |
Do you think I can get in there? You've been hogging it all day.
How was dinner?
Terrible.
Awful. Why? What happened?
Tonight I met the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my entire life. | ๋ด๊ฐ ํ ์ ์๊ฒ ๋? ์จ์ข
์ผ ๋ญ๊ฐ์์
์ ๋
์ด๋ ๋๊ณ
๋์ฐํ์ด
๋ถ์พํ๊ณ ์? ๋ฌด์จ ์ผ ์์์ด?
์ค๋ ๋ฐค, ๋ ๋ด ์ธ์์์ ์ ์ผ ์์ ์๋
๋ฅผ ๋ง๋ฌ์ด |
Are you crazy? What's wrong with that?
She's practically engaged... to Chet Danburry.
The guy could eat a football. Too bad.
Too bad? It's worse than too bad, Pitts, it's a tragedy. | ์ ์ ์ ์ด์ผ? ๊ทธ๊ฒ ์ด์จ๋ค๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ?
๊ทธ ์๋
๋ ์ณํธ ๋๋ฒ๋ฆฌ์ ์ฝํผ์์ผ
๊ทธ ๋
์์ ์ถ๊ตฌ ์ ์์์ ์๋๋ค
์๋๋ค๊ณ ? ๊ทธ ์ด์์ด๋ผ๊ณ ์ด๊ฑด ๋น๊ทน์ด์ผ |
A girl this beautiful in love with such a jerk.
All the good ones go for jerks. You know that.
Yeah, forget her. Open your trig book and try and figure out Problem five.
I can't just forget her, Cameron. And I certainly can't think about trig. | ๊ทธ ์๋ฆ๋ค์ด ์๋
๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ฐ ๋ฐ๋ณด๋ฅผ ์ฌ๋ํ๋ค๋
์์ ์ ๋ค์ ๋ฐ๋ณด๋ฅผ ์ฌ๋ํ๊ธฐ ๋ง๋ จ์ด๋ผ๊ณ
์์ด๋ฒ๋ ค, ์ผ๊ฐํจ์ ์ฑ
์ด๋ ํด๊ณ 5๋ฒ ๋ฌธ์ ํ์ด ๋ด
๊ทธ๋
๊ฐ ์๊พธ ์๋ฅธ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๋๋ฐ ์ผ๊ฐํจ์๊ฐ ๋์ ๋ค์ด์ค๊ฒ ๋? |
We got it. Holy cow! Turn that up.
All right, gentlemen. Five minutes.
Let's go. Did you see her naked?
Very funny, Dalton.
That wouldn't be a radio in your lap, would it, Mr. Pitts? | ์ ํธ๊ฐ ์กํ๋ค!
์, ์ฌ๋ฌ๋ถ, 5๋ถ ๋จ์๋ค ์ด์ ๊ฐ์
๊ทธ ์ฌ์ ๋์ฒด๋ ๋ดค์ด?
์ฅ๋์น์ง ๋ง, ๋ํด
์๋ค ๋ฌด๋ฆ์ ์๋ ๊ฒ ๋ผ๋์ค๋ ์๋๊ฒ ์ง, ํผ์ธ ๊ตฐ? |
No, sir. Science experiment. Radar.
Gentlemen, open your texts to Page 21 of the introduction.
Mr. Perry, will you read the opening paragraph of the preface, entitled "Understanding Poetry"? | ๋ค, ๊ณผํ ์คํ ์ค์ธ ๋ ์ด๋์
๋๋ค
์ฌ๋ฌ๋ถ, 21ํ์ด์ง์ ์๋ ์๋ฌธ์ ํด ๋ด๋ผ
ํ๋ฆฌ ๊ตฐ, ์๋ฌธ์ ์ฝ์ด ๋ณด๊ฒ ๋? '์์ ์ดํด' ๋ง์ด์ผ |
"Understanding Poetry, by Dr. J. Evans Pritchard, Ph.D.
To fully understand poetry, we must first be fluent with its meter, rhyme and figures of speech, then ask two questions.
How artfully has the objective of the poem been rendered?
How important is that objective? Question one rates the poem's perfection. | '์์ ์ดํด' ์๋ฒ์ค ํ๋ฆฌ์ฒ๋ ๋ฌธํ๋ฐ์ฌ ์
'์ด์จ, ์์กฐ, ๋น์ ๋ฅผ ์ดํดํ๋ผ' '๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ 2๊ฐ์ง ์ง๋ฌธ์ ํ๋ผ'
'์ฒซ์งธ, ๋์์ ์์ ์ ํํ๋'
'๋ ๋ฒ์งธ, ๋์์ ์ค์๋์ด๋ค ์ฒซ์งธ๋ ์์ ์์ฑ๋ ์ธก์ ์ด๋ฉฐ' |
Question two rates its importance.
And once these questions have been answered, determining the poem's greatness becomes a relatively simple matter.
A sonnet by Byron might score high on the vertical, but only average on the horizontal.
A Shakespearean sonnet, on the other hand, would score high both horizontally and vertically, yielding a massive total area, thereby revealing the poem to be truly great. | '๋ ๋ฒ์งธ๋ ์ค์๋์ ํ๋จ์ด๋ค'
'์ด ๋ ์ง๋ฌธ์ ๋ํ ๋ต์ด ๋์ค๋ฉด' '์์ ์๋ํจ์ด ์ฝ๊ฒ ํ๋ณ๋๋ค'
'๋ฐ์ด๋ฐ์ ์๋ ์ค์๋๋ ๋์ง๋ง ์์ฑ๋๋ ๊ฒจ์ฐ ๋ณดํต์ ๋๋๋ค'
'๋ ๊ฐ์ง ๋ฉด์์ ๋ชจ๋ ๋๋ค๊ณ ๋ณผ ์ ์๋ค' '๊ณ ๋ก ๋งค์ฐ ๋ฒ์๊ฐ ๋์ผ๋ฏ๋ก ์ค๋ก ์๋ํ ์๊ฐ ๋๋ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค' |
As you proceed through the poetry in this book, practice this rating method.
Excrement.
That's what I think of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard.
We're not laying pipe. We're talking about poetry.
How can you describe poetry like American Bandstand? | '์ด ์ฑ
์ ์๋ก๋ ์๋ฅผ ์ฝ๋ ๋์ ์ด ํ๊ฐ ๋ฐฉ๋ฒ์ ์ฐ์ตํ๋๋ก ํด๋ผ'
์ฐ๋ ๊ธฐ!
๊ทธ๊ฒ ์๋ฒ์ค ํ๋ฆฌ์ฒ๋์ ๋ํ ๋์ ๊ฒฌํด์ด๋ค
์ฌ๋ ๊ฒ์ด ์๋๋ค ์๋ฅผ ์ด๋ป๊ฒ
'์๋ฉ๋ฆฌ์นธ ๋ฐด๋์คํ ๋'์ฒ๋ผ ํ๊ฐํ ์ ์๊ฒ ๋? |
"I like Byron. I give him a 42, but I can't dance to it."
Now, I want you to rip out that page. Go on. Rip out the entire page.
You heard me. Rip it out. Rip it out!
Go on. Rip it out.
Thank you, Mr. Dalton.
Gentlemen, tell you what, don't just tear out that page, tear out the entire introduction. | '์ค, ๋ ๋ฐ์ด๋ฐ์ ์๊ฐ ์ข์ผ๋ 42์ ์ ์ค๋'
์, ์ด์ ๊ทธ ์ฅ์ ์ฐข์ด ๋ฒ๋ ค๋ผ ์ด์, ๋ชฝ๋
์ฐข์ด ๋ฒ๋ ค
์ ๋ค๋ฆฌ๋, ์ด์ ์ฐข์ด๋ด๋ผ๊ณ
์ด์, ์ฐข์ด ๋ฒ๋ฆฌ๋ผ๋๊น
๊ณ ๋ง๋ค, ๋ํด ๊ตฐ
์ฌ๋ฌ๋ถ, ๊ทธ ํ์ด์ง ๋ง๊ณ ๋ ์๋ฌธ ์ ์ฒด๋ฅผ ์ฐข์ด ๋ฒ๋ ค๋ผ |
I want it gone, history. Leave nothing of it. Rip it out. Rip!
Be gone, J. Evans Pritchard, Ph.D.
Rip, shred, tear. Rip it out! I want to hear nothing but ripping of Mr. Pritchard. | ์๋ฌธ์ ์ค๋๋ก ๋์ด๋ ์์ ํ ์ฐข์ด ๋ด ๋ฒ๋ ค๋ผ, ์ฐข์ด ๋ด ๋ฒ๋ ค!
ํ๋ฆฌ์ฒ๋ ๋ฐ์ฌ๋์ ์์ ๊ฑฐ๋ผ
์ฐข์ด ๋ด ๋ฒ๋ ค, ํ๋ฆฌ์ฒ๋ ๋ฐ์ฌ๋์ ์ซ์๋ด๋ ์๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ๋ฃ๊ณ ์ถ๋ค |
We'll perforate it, put it on a roll.
It's not the Bible. You're not gonna go to Hell for this.
Go on. Make a clean tear. I want nothing left of it.
We shouldn't be doing this. Rip, rip, rip.
Rip it out. Rip! | ์ฐข์ด ๋ด์ ํ์ฅ์ง๋ก ์จ์ผ๊ฒ ๋ค
์ด๊ฑด ์ฑ๊ฒฝ์ด ์๋์ผ ์ด๋ฐ๋ค๊ณ ์ง์ฅ์ ์ ๊ฐ
์ด์ ์ฐข์ด, ๊นจ๋์ด ์ฐข์ด ๋ฒ๋ ค๋ผ ํ๋๋ ๋จ๊น์์ด
์ฑ
์ ์ฐข์ด ๋ด๋ฉด ์ ๋ผ ์ฐข์ด! ์ฐข์ด! ์ฐข์ด ๋ฒ๋ ค
์ฐข์ด ๋ด ๋ฒ๋ ค! |
What the hell is going on here?
I don't hear enough rips.
Mr. Keating. Mr. McAllister.
I'm sorry. I didn't know you were here.
Ah. So you are. Excuse me. | ๋๋์ฒด ๋ฌด์จ ์ง๋ค์ด์ง?
์ฐข๋ ์๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ์ ๋ค๋ ค!
ํคํ
์ ์๋ ๋งฅ์นผ๋ฆฌ์คํฐ ์ ์๋
์ฃ์กํฉ๋๋ค ์ฌ๊ธฐ ๊ณ์ ์ค ๋ชฐ๋์ต๋๋ค
๊ทธ๋ ๊ตฐ์, ์ค๋กํ์ต๋๋ค |
Keep ripping, gentlemen.
This is a battle, a war. And the casualties could be your hearts and souls.
Thank you, Mr. Dalton.
Armies of academics going forward measuring poetry. No. We'll not have that here. No more of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard. | ์, ๊ณ์ ์ฐข์ด๋ผ
์ด๊ฑด ์ ํฌ์, ์ ์์ด๋ค ์ง๋ฉด ๋ง์๊ณผ ์ํผ์ด ๋ค์น๋ค
๊ณ ๋ง๋ค, ๋ํด ๊ตฐ
์ฐ์ํ ํ์๋คํํ
์๋ฅผ ์ธก์ ํ๊ฒ ๋ง๋ค๋ค๋, ์ ๋์ง! ์ฌ๊ธฐ ๋ด๋ฒ๋ ค ๋ฌ์ ์ ๋ผ ์๋ฒ์ค ํ๋ฆฌ์ฒ๋์ฌ, ์ฌ๋ผ์ ธ๋ผ |
Now, in my class, you will learn to think for yourselves again.
You will learn to savor words and language.
No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world. | ์ฌ๋ฌ๋ถ ์ด์ ์ฌ๋ฌ๋ถ์ ์๊ฐํ๋ ๋ฒ์ ๋ค์ ๋ฐฐ์ฐ๊ฒ ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ
์ฌ๋ฌ๋ถ์ ๋ง๊ณผ ์ธ์ด์ ๋ง์ ๋ฐฐ์ฐ๊ฒ ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ
๋๊ฐ ๋ฌด์จ ๋ง์ ํ๋ ์ง ์ธ์ด์ ์์ด๋์ด๋ ์ธ์์ ๋ฐ๊ฟ๋์ ์ ์๋ค |
Now, I see that look in Mr. Pitts' eye, like 19th-century literature has nothing to do with going to business school or medical school. Right? Maybe.
Mr. Hopkins, you may agree with him, thinking,
I have a little secret for you. Huddle up. Huddle up! | ํผ์ธ ๊ตฐ์ 19์ธ๊ธฐ ๋ฌธํ์ด ์๋์ ๊ฐ๋ ๊ฒ๊ณผ๋ ์๋ฌด ์๊ด ์๋ค ์ฌ๊ธฐ๋๊ตฐ ๊ทธ๋ฐ๊ฐ?
ํํจ์ค ๊ตฐ ์๋ค๋ ๊ฐ์ ์๊ฐ์ธ๊ฐ ๋ณด๊ตฐ
๋น๋ฐ์ ํ๋ ์๊ธฐํด ์ฃผ์ง ๊ฐ๊น์ด ๋ชจ์ฌ๋ผ! ๊ฐ๊น์ด ๋ชจ์ฌ! |
We don't read and write poetry because it's cute.
We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race.
And the human race is filled with passion. | ์๊ฐ ์๋ฆ๋ค์์ ์ฝ๊ณ ์ฐ๋ ๊ฒ์ด ์๋๋ค
์ธ๋ฅ์ ์ผ์์ด๊ธฐ ๋๋ฌธ์ ์๋ฅผ ์ฝ๊ณ ์ฐ๋ ๊ฒ์ด๋ค
์ธ๋ฅ๋ ์ด์ ์ผ๋ก ๊ฐ๋ ์ฐจ ์์ด |
To quote from Whitman...
""O me! O life! Of the questions of these recurring;"
Of the endless trains of the faithless... Of cities filled with the foolish;
What good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here...
That life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on And you may contribute a verse. | ํํธ๋จผ์ ์๋ฅผ ์ธ์ฉํ์๋ฉด
'์ค, ๋์ฌ! ์ค, ์๋ช
์ด์ฌ! ์์์ด ๋์ง๋ ์ด ์๋ฌธ!'
'๋ฏฟ์ ์๋ ์๋ค๋ก ์ด์ด์ง๋ ๋์ ๋ฐ๋ณด๋ค๋ก ๋์ณํ๋ฅด๋ ๋์'
'์๋ฆ๋ค์์ ์ด๋์ ์ฐพ์๊น?' '์ค, ๋์ฌ, ์ค, ์๋ช
์ด์ฌ! ๋๋ต์ ๋ค๊ฐ ๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ์ ์๋ค๋ ๊ฒ'
'์๋ช
๊ณผ ์กด์ฌ๊ฐ ์๋ค๋ ๊ฒ'
'ํ๋ คํ ์ฐ๊ทน์ ๊ณ์๋๊ณ ๋ ๋ํ ํ ํธ์ ์๊ฐ ๋๋ค๋ ๊ฒ' |
"That the powerful play goes on And you may contribute a verse."
What will your verse be?
Amen.
Quite an interesting class you gave today, Mr. Keating.
Sorry if I shocked you, Mr. McAllister. | 'ํ๋ คํ ์ฐ๊ทน์ ๊ณ์๋๊ณ ๋ ๋ํ ํ ํธ์ ์๊ฐ ๋๋ค๋ ๊ฒ'
์ฌ๋ฌ๋ถ์ ์๋ ์ด๋ค ๊ฒ์ด ๋ ๊น?
์๋ฉ
์ค๋ ์์
์ฐธ ์ฌ๋ฏธ์๋๊ตฐ์ ํคํ
์ ์๋
๋๋ผ๊ฒ ํด ๋๋ ธ๋ค๋ฉด ์ฃ์กํฉ๋๋ค |
There's no need to apologize. It was very fascinating. Misguided though it was. You think so?
You take a big risk by encouraging them to become artists, John.
When they realize that they're not Rembrandts, Shakespeares or Mozarts, they'll hate you for it. | ์ฌ๊ณผํ ํ์๋ ์์ ๋ฐฉํฅ์ ํ๋ ธ์ด๋ ์ฌ๋ก์ก์ ๋งํ์ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ์๊ฐํ์ญ๋๊น?
ํ์๋ค์ ์์ ๊ฐ๊ฐ ๋๋๋ก ๋ถ์ถ๊ธฐ๋ ๊ฑด ์ํํ ์ผ์ด์ค
์์ ๊ฐ๊ฐ ์๋๋ ๊ฑธ ๊นจ๋ฌ์ผ๋ฉด ๋น์ ์ ๋ฏธ์ํ ๊ฑฐ์ |
We're not talking artists, George, we're talking free thinkers.
Free thinkers at 17?
Funny, I never pegged you as a cynic.
""But only in their dreams Can men be truly free"
"'Twas always thus And always thus will be."
Hey, I found his senior annual in the library. | ์์ ๊ฐ๊ฐ ์๋๋ผ ์์ ๋ก์ด ์ฌ์๊ฐ๊ฐ ๋๋ผ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ฃ
17์ด์ ์์ ๋ก์ด ์ฌ์๊ฐ๋ผ?
๋น๊ผฌ๊ณ ๊ณ์๋๊ตฐ์
'ํ์ง๋ง ์ง์ ํ ์์ ๋ ๊ทธ๋ค์ ๊ฟ์์๋ง ๊ฐ๋ฅํฉ๋๋ค'
'ํญ์ ๊ทธ๋ฌํ๊ณ ํญ์ ๊ทธ๋ด ๊ฒ์
๋๋ค'
์๋ค์, ๋์๊ด์์ ์ ์๋์ ์กธ์
์จ๋ฒ์ ์ฐพ์๋์ด |
Captain of the soccer team, editor of the school annual, Cambridge bound, thigh man, and the Dead Poets Society.
'Man most likely to do anything.'
Thigh man." Mr. K was a hell-raiser.
What's the Dead Poets Society? Is there a picture? Nothing, no other mention of it. | ์ฐ๊ฐ ํธ์ง๋ถ์ฅ ์ผ์๋ธ๋ฆฌ์ง ๋ํ ์
ํ ์์ ์ฌ์ ๊ฐ์ ๋ฏธ, ์ฃฝ์ ์์ธ์ ์ฌํ
๋ญ๋ ์ง ํ ์ ์๋ ๋จ์
๊ฐ์ ๋ฏธ๋ฅผ ์ข์ํ๋ค๊ณ ? ๋ง์ฝ๊พธ๋ฌ๊ธฐ์๊ตฐ
์ฃฝ์ ์์ธ์ ์ฌํ๊ฐ ๋ญ์ง? ์กธ์
์จ๋ฒ์ ์๋ฌด๋ฐ ์ฌ์ง๋ ์ธ๊ธ๋ ์์ด |
That boy there, see me after lunch.
Mr. Keating.
Sir? Say something. O Captain, My Captain?
Gentlemen.
We were just looking in your old annual. | ๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ ํ์๋ค! ์์ฌ ํ ๊ต์ฅ์ค๋ก ์ค๋๋ก!
ํคํ
์ ์๋?
์ ์๋? ์ค, ์บกํด, ๋ง์ด ์บกํด?
๋ ๋ถ๋ ๋?
์ ์๋์ ์กธ์
์จ๋ฒ์ ๋ดค์ด์ |
No, that's not me.
God. What was the Dead Poets Society?
I doubt the present administration would look too favorably upon that.
Why? What was it? | ์ค, ์ด๋ฐ, ์ด๊ฑด ๋ด๊ฐ ์๋
์ฃฝ์ ์์ธ์ ์ฌํ๊ฐ ๋ญ์ฃ ?
ํ์ฌ ํ๊ต ๋น๊ตญ์ ์ ๋๋ก ์ฉ๋ฉํ์ง ์์ ๊ฑธ์ธ
์์ฃ ? ๊ทธ๊ฒ ๋ญ์์ฃ ? |
Gentlemen, can you keep a secret?
Sure.
The Dead Poets were dedicated to sucking the marrow out of life.
That's a phrase from Thoreau we would invoke at the beginning of every meeting. | ๋น๋ฐ๋ก ํด์ค ์ ์๊ฒ ๋?
๋ฌผ๋ก ์ด์ฃ
์ฃฝ์ ์์ธ์ ์ฌํ๋ ์ถ์ ์ ์๋ฅผ ๋นจ์๋ค์์ง
์๋ก ์์์ ๋ฐ์จ ๊ฑด๋ฐ ํํฉ ๋๋ง๋ค ๊ทธ๊ฑธ ์ฝ๊ณค ํ์ง |
See, we would gather at the old Indian cave and take turns reading from Thoreau, Whitman, Shelley, the biggies.
Even some of our own verse.
And in the enchantment of the moment, we'd let poetry work its magic. | ์ฐ๋ฆฐ ์ค๋๋ ์ธ๋์ธ ๋๊ตด์ ๋ชจ์ฌ์ ์ฐจ๋ก๋๋ก ์๋ก, ํํธ๋จผ, ์
ธ๋ฆฌ ๊ฐ์ ์๋ํ ์์ธ์ ์๋ฅผ ๋ญ์กํ์ด
์ฐ๋ฆฌ ์์์๋ ํจ๊ป
ํํฌ๋ก ๋ชจ๋ ์์ ๋ง๋ฒ์ ๊ฑธ๋ฆฐ ๊ธฐ๋ถ์ด์์ง |
You mean it was a bunch of guys sitting around reading poetry?
No, Mr. Overstreet. It wasn't just guys.
We weren't a Greek organization. We were romantics. | ํจ๊ป ์์์ ์๋ฅผ ๋ญ์กํ๋ ๋จ์๋ค ๋ชจ์์ด์๋จ ๋ง์ธ๊ฐ์?
์๋์ผ, ์ค๋ฒ์คํธ๋ฆฌํธ ๊ตฐ ๋จ์๋ค๋ง ์์๋ ๊ฒ ์๋์ผ
์ฐ๋ฆฐ ๋จ์๋ค๋ง์ ๋ชจ์์ด ์๋๋ผ ๋ญ๋ง์ฃผ์์๋ค์ ๋ชจ์์ด์์ด |
And we didn't just read poetry. We let it drip from our tongues like honey.
Spirits soared, women swooned, and Gods were created, gentlemen.
Not a bad way to spend an evening, eh? | ์๋ง ๋ญ์กํ๋ ๊ฒ์ด ์๋๋ผ ์๊ฐ ๊ฟ์ฒ๋ผ ํ๋ฌ๋์๋ ๊ฑฐ์์ด
์ํผ์ด ํ๋ฌ๋์๊ณ ์ฌ์๋ค์ ํฉํํดํ๊ณ ์ ๋ค์ด ์ฐฝ์กฐ๋์์ง
๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ์ ๋
์ ๋ณด๋ด๋ ๊ฒ ๋ฉ์์ง ์๊ฒ ์ด? |
Thank you, Mr. Perry, for this stroll down amnesia lane.
Burn that. Especially my picture.
Dead Poets Society. What?
I say we go tonight.
Tonight? Wait a minute. Everybody in? Where's this cave he's talking about? | ์ ์ถ์ต์ ๋์ด๋ ค ์ค์ ๊ณ ๋ง๋ค ํ๋ฆฌ ๊ตฐ
ํ์๋ฒ๋ฆฌ๊ฒ, ํนํ ๋ด ์ฌ์ง์
์ฃฝ์ ์์ธ์ ์ฌํ ๋ญ?
์ค๋ ๋ฐค์ ๊ฐ์
์ค๋ ๋ฐค? ์ ๊น... ๋ชจ๋ ๊ฐ ๊ฑฐ์ง? ๊ทธ ๋๊ตด์ ์ด๋ ์์ง? |
It's beyond the stream. I know where it is. That's miles.
-Sounds boring to me. - Don't go.
You know how many demerits we're talking, Dalton? So don't come, please.
Look, all I'm saying is that we have to be careful. We can't get caught. No shit, Sherlock.
You boys there, hurry up! | ๊ฐ ๊ฑด๋์ ์์ด, ๋ด๊ฐ ์์ ๋๋ฌด ๋ฉ์์
- ๋ ๋ณ๋ก ๊ด์ฌ ์์ด - ๊ทธ๋ผ ์ค์ง ๋ง
๊ท์จ์ ์ด๊ฒจ ๊ฐ์ ๋นํ ๊ฑฐ์ผ ๊ทธ๋ผ ์ ๋ฐ ์ค์ง ๋ง
์ฐ๋ฆฌ ๋ชจ๋ ์กฐ์ฌํด์ผ ํ๋ค๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ ์กํ๋ฉด ํฐ์ผ ๋๋ค๊ณ ๋ปํ ๋ง์ ํ๋๊ตฐ
๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ ํ์๋ค! ์๋๋ฌ! |
All right. Who's in?
Come on, Neil. Hager's there... Forget Hager. No.
I'm in.
I'm warning you. Move!
Me too. I don't know, Neil.
What? Pitts. His grades are hurting, Charlie. | ์ข์์ด, ๊ฐ ์ฌ๋!
๋, ๊ต์ฅ์ด ๋ณด์ด์์ ์ ๊ฒฝ ์ฐ์ง ๋ง, ์ฌ ์ฌ๋?
๋ ๊ฐ ๊ฑฐ์ผ
๊ฒฝ๊ณ ํ๋ค, ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ๋ค์ด์!
๋๋ ๋ ์ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ด
์? ํผ์ธ ํผ์ธ , ์ ๊ทธ๋? ์ฑ์ ์ด ๋จ์ด์ก์์ |
You can help him, Meeks. What is this, a midnight study group?
Forget it, Pitts, you're coming. Meeks, your grades hurting too?
-I'll try anything once. -Except sex.
I'm in as long as we're careful. -What about you, Knox? -I don't know, Charlie. | ๋์์ค, ๋ฏน์ค ์ด๋ฐ ๋ฐค์ค์ ๋ชจ์์ผ๋ก?
ํผ์ธ , ๋๋ ์ค๊ฒ ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ ๋ฏน์ค, ๋๋ ์ฑ์ ์ด ๋จ์ด์ก์์
- ๋ ๋ญ๋ ์ง ํ ๋ฒ์ ํด๋ณผ ๊ฑฐ์ผ - ์ฑ๊ด๊ณ๋ง ๋นผ๊ณ
- ์กฐ์ฌ๋ง ํ๋ค๋ฉด ๊ฐ๊ฒ, ๋
น์ค ๋? - ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ด |
Come on, Knox. It'll help you get Chris.
Yeah? How?
Women swoon. But why do they swoon? Charlie, tell me why they swoon. Charlie!
You're not listening. Look, you follow the stream to the waterfall.
It's right there. It's got to be like... | ๋
น์ค, ํฌ๋ฆฌ์ค๋ฅผ ์ฌ๊ท๋ ๋ฐ ๋์์ด ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ
๊ทธ๋? ์ด๋ป๊ฒ?
์ฌ์๋ค์ ํฉํํดํ๋๋ค ํ์ง๋ง ์ ํฉํํดํ์ง? ์ฐฐ๋ฆฌ ์ ํฉํํดํ๋์ง ์๋ ค์ค
ํผ์ธ , ์ ๋ค์ด, ์ง๋ฌธ ์๋ ์ฌ๋? ์ข์์ด, ํญํฌ๊น์ง ๊ฑฐ์ฌ๋ฌ ๊ฐ์
๊ทธ๋, ๋ฐ๋ก ์ฌ๊ธฐ์ผ, ์ฌ๊ธฐ ์์ชฝ ์ด๋๊ฐ ์์ ๊ฑฐ์ผ |
I don't know, guys, it's starting to sound dangerous.
Well, why don't you stay home? You're crazy.
For God's sake, stop chattering and sit down. | ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ด, ์ํํ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์
๊ทธ๋ผ ์ค์ง ๋ง ๋ญ? ์ ์ ๋๊ฐ๋?
์, ์ก๋ด ๊ทธ๋งํ๊ณ ์ ์๋ฆฌ์ ์์ |
Todd, are you coming tonight? No.
Why not? You were there. You heard Keating. Don't you want to do something about--
Yes, but, uh...
But what? | ํ ๋, ์ค๋ ๋ฐค์ ์ฌ ๊ฑฐ์ง? ์๋
์? ํคํ
์ ์๋ ์๊ธฐ ๋ค์์์? ๊ทธ๋ฐ ๊ฒ ํด๋ณด๊ณ ์ถ์ง ์๋?
๊ทธ๋, ํ์ง๋ง
ํ์ง๋ง, ๋ญ? |
Gosh, you really have a problem with that, don't you?
No, I don't have a problem. Neil, I just... I don't want to do it, OK? All right. What if you didn't have to read? What if you just came and listened? | ๋ง์์ฌ, ์ ๋ง ๊ทธ๊ฒ ๋ฌธ์ ๋ผ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ?
์๋, ๋ฌธ์ ๋ ์์ด ๊ทธ๋ฅ ํ๊ณ ์ถ์ง ์์ ๋ฟ์ด์ผ, ๋๋? ์ข์, ์ฝ์ง ์์๋ ๋๋ค๋ฉด ์ด๋กํ ๊ฑฐ์ผ? ๊ทธ๋ฅ ์์ ๋ฃ๊ธฐ๋ง ํด๋ ๋๋ค๋ฉด? |
That's not how it works. Forget how it works. What if- what if they said it was OK?
What? What, are you gonna go up and ask them if? No, no. I'll be right back.
Neil. Neil.
Oh, shut up, will you?
Spaz, why don't you check your pockets? | ํ์ง๋ง ๊ทธ๋ฐ ๊ฒ ์๋์์ ๊ทธ ์ ์ ์ผ๋ ค ๋ง, ๋ค๋ฅธ ์ ๋ค์ด ๊ด์ฐฎ๋ค๊ณ ํ๋ค๋ฉด ์ด์ฉ ๊ฑฐ์ผ?
๋ญ? ์ ๋คํํ
๋ฌผ์ด๋ณผ ๊ฑฐ์ผ? ์ ๋ผ, ๋ ๊ธ๋ฐฉ ๋์์ฌ๊ฒ
์ ๋ผ, ๋
์กฐ์ฉํ ํด
์คํจ์ฆ, ์ฃผ๋จธ๋ ์์ ๋ณด์ง ๊ทธ๋? |
Cut out that racket in there.
Yarr! I'm a dead poet. Jesus, Charlie.
You're funny. You're real funny.
It's too wet.
God, you trying to smoke us out of here? | ์๋ ํผ์ฐ์ง ๋ง๋ผ
์ผ! ๋ ์ฃฝ์ ์์ธ์ด๋ค!
์ฌ! ์๋ค์! ์ด์ชฝ์ด์ผ! ์๋ฌ๋ค, ์ ๋ง ์๋ฌ์ด
๋๋ฌด ์ถ์ถํ๋ฐ
๋ง์์ฌ, ์ฐ๊ธฐ ํผ์์ ๋ค ์ง์์ํฌ ์
์ด์ผ? |
No, the smoke's going right up this opening.
You OK? Arghh.
All right. All right. Forget the fire. Forget it. Forget it. Let's go, gentlemen. It's like trying to light a swamp.
I hereby reconvene the Dead Poets Society. | ์๋์ผ, ์ฐ๊ธฐ๋ ์ด์ชฝ์ผ๋ก ๋ค ๋น ์ ธ๋๊ฐ๋ค๊ณ
๊ด์ฐฎ์?
๋์ด, ๋ชจ๋ฅ๋ถ์ ๊ทธ๋ง๋์ ๊ทธ๋, ๊ทธ๋ง๋ฌ ์, ์์ํ์
์ด์ ์ฃฝ์ ์์ธ์ ์ฌํ ์ฌ๊ฒฐ์ฑ์ ์ ์ธํ๋ค |
The meetings will be conducted by myself and the other new initiates now present.
Todd Anderson, because he prefers not to read, will keep minutes of the meetings. | ์ด ๋ชจ์์ ํ์์ ๋์ ์ค๋ ๋ชจ์ธ ์ฌ๋๋ค์ด๋ค
ํ ๋ ์ค๋์จ์ ๋ญ์ก์ ํ์ง ์๊ธฐ ๋๋ฌธ์ ์๊ธฐ ์ผ์ ๋งก๋๋ค |
I'll now read the traditional opening message by society member Henry David Thoreau.
""I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately."
"I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."
I'll second that. | ์ด์ ํจ๋ฆฌ ์๋ก์ ์ ํต์ ์ธ ๊ฐํ ์๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ๋ญ์กํ๊ฒ ๋ค
'๋๋ ์์ ๋กญ๊ฒ ์ด๊ธฐ ์ํด ์ฒ์์ผ๋ก ๊ฐ๋ค'
'๊น์ด ํ๋ฌปํ ์ถ์ ์ ์๋ฅผ ๋นจ์๋ค์ด๋ฉฐ ์ด๊ณ ์ถ์๋ค'
๋์ํฉ๋๋ค |
And Keating's marked a bunch of other pages.
All right, intermission. Dig deep. Right here. Right here. Lay it down.
On the mud? We're gonna put our food on the mud? | ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ํคํ
์ ์๋์ด ์๋ฉ ํ์๋ฅผ ํด ๋์
จ์ด
์, ํด์์ด๋ค ์ฌ๊ธฐ ์ ๋ถ ์์ ๋
์งํ ์์? ๋ฌด์จ ์๋ฆฌ์ผ |
Meeks, put your coat down. Picnic blanket.
Don't keep anything back, either. You guys are always bumming my smokes.
Yuck.
Wait a minute. Who gave us half a roll? I'm eating the other half. | ๋ฏน์ค, ๋ค ์ฝํธ๋ฅผ ์์๋ค ๊น์
ํ๋๋ ์จ๊ธฐ์ง ๋ง๊ณ ๋ค ๊บผ๋ด ๋ํฌ๋ ํญ์ ๋ด ๋ด๋ฐฐ ํผ์ฐ์์
๊ฑดํฌ๋? ๊ทธ๋
์ ๊น! ๋๊ฐ ๋นต์ ๋ฐ์ชฝ๋ง ๋ด๋์ ๊ฑฐ์ผ? ๋ฐ์ชฝ์ ๋ด๊ฐ ๋จน๊ณ ์์ด |
Come on. What, you want me to put it back?
It was a dark and rainy night.
And this old lady who had a passion for jigsaw puzzles sat by herself in her house at her table to complete a new jigsaw puzzle. | ๊ทธ๋ฌ์ง ๋ง! ๋ญ, ๋จน๋ค ๋ง ๊ฒ์ ๋ด๋์ผ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ?
์ด๋ ์ด ๋ด๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๋น๊ฐ ๋ด๋ฆฌ๋ ๋ฐค์
์กฐ๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ฆผ ๋ง์ถ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ์ข์ํ๋ ํ ๋จธ๋๊ฐ ์ ์กฐ๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ฆผ์ ๋ง์ถ๋ ค๊ณ ์ฑ
์ ์์ ์์์ด |
The last thing that this old lady ever heard was the sound of breaking glass.
No shit. Yes. This is true. This is true.
I've got one that's even better than that. | ํ ๋จธ๋๋ ์ฐฝ๋ฌธ ๊นจ์ง๋ ์๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ๋ง์ง๋ง์ผ๋ก ๋ค์์ง
์ด๊ฑด ์คํ์ผ, ์คํ๋ผ๊ณ
๋ ์ข์ ์๊ธฐ๊ฐ ์์ด |
They run out of gas, and there's a madman... That thing with the hands? And he cuts her husband's head off?
I love that story. I told you that one. | ๊ธฐ๋ฆ์ด ๋จ์ด์ก์ด ๊ทธ๋ฐ๋ฐ ๊ทธ๊ณณ์ ๋ฏธ์น ๋จ์๊ฐ... ์์ด ๋ฌ๋ฆฐ ์๊ธฐ ๋ง์ด์ง?
๊ทธ ์๊ธฐ ์ข์! ๋ด๊ฐ ํด์ค ์๊ธฐ์์ |
You did not. I got that in, uh, camp in sixth grade.
""In a mean abode in the Shanking road Lived a man named William Bloat;"
Now, he had a wife, the plague of his life, who continually got his goat.
"And one day at dawn With her night shift on, he slit her bloody throat."
Oh, and it gets worse. You want to hear a real poem? | ์๋์ผ, 6ํ๋
๋ ์บ ํ์์ ๋ค์ ์๊ธฐ์ผ
'์๋ ์ ์๋ฆฌ์ ๋ธ๋กํธ๋ผ๋ ๋จ์๊ฐ ์ด๊ณ ์์๋ค'
'๊ทธ์๊ฒ ๋ถ์ธ์ด ์์๋๋ฐ ์์ฃผ ๊ณจ์นซ๋ฉ์ด๋ฆฌ์๋ค' 'ํญ์ ๊ทธ๋ฅผ ๊ดด๋กญํ๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ฌ๋ ์ด๋ ๋ ์๋ฒฝ ์ ์๋ ์๋ด์ ๋ชฉ์ ๋ฒ ์ด ๋ฒ๋ ธ๋ค'
์ด๋ฐ, ๊ฐ์๋ก ํ์ฐ์ด๊ตฐ ์ง์ง ์๋ฅผ ๋ค์ด๋ณผ๋? |
Want this? I don't need it. Get this out of here. Did you bring one? You memorized a poem? I didn't memorize a poem. Move up.
-An original piece by Charlie Dalton. -An original piece. | ์, ์ฌ๊ธฐ ์์ด ํ์ ์์ด, ๋ค๊ณ ์์ด ๋ ๊ฐ์ ธ์๋? ์๋ฅผ ์ธ์ ๋ฒ๋ ธ๋ค๊ณ ? ์ธ์ ๋ฒ๋ ธ์ด?
- ์ฐฐ๋ฆฌ ๋ํด์ ์์์์ง - ์์์๋ผ |
-Take center stage. -You know this is history, right?
Where did you get that?
"The God of Love If such a thing there be May learn to love from me."
Wow. Did you write that? | - ์ค์์ ์ - ์ด๋ด, ์ด๊ฑด ์ญ์ฌ์ผ
์ด๋์ ๊ตฌํ์ง?
'์ฌ๋์ ์ ์ด ์๋ค๊ณ ํ๋๋ผ๋ ๋ํํ
๋ ๋ฐฐ์์ผ ํ ๊ฑฐ๋ค'
์, ๋ค๊ฐ ์ด ๊ฑฐ์ผ? |
Abraham Cowley. OK, who's next?
Alfred Lord Tennyson. "Come, my friends
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
For my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset.
And though we are not now That strength which in old days Moved earth and heaven;
That which we are, we are One equal temper of heroic hearts | ์์ด๋ธ๋ฌํ ์นด์ธ๋ฆฌ ์, ๋ค์์ ๋๊ตฌ์ง?
์ํ๋ ๋ ํ
๋์จ ๊ฒฝ '์น๊ตฌ๋ค์ด์ฌ, ๋ด๊ฒ ์ค๋ผ'
'์ ์ธ๊ณ๋ฅผ ์ฐพ๋ ๋ฐ ๋ฆ์ง ์์๋๋ค'
'๋ด ๊ฒฐ์ฌ์ ํ๊ณ ํ๋ ์์ ๋๋จธ๋ก ํญํดํ์'
'์ฒ์ง๋ฅผ ์์ง์๋ ์์ ์ ํ์ ์ง๊ธ ์์์ง๋ผ๋'
'์ฐ๋ฆฌ๋ ์์ง๋ ์์
์ ๋ง์์ ๊ธฐ์ง์ ์๋๋ค' |
Made weak by time and fate But strong in will
"To strive, to seek, to find And not to yield."
""Then I had religion And then I had a vision. I could not turn From their revel in derision."
Then I saw the Congo Creeping through the black
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo Creeping through the black | '์ด๋ช
๊ณผ ์๊ฐ์ผ๋ก ์ฝํด์ก์ด๋ ์์ง๋ ๊ฐํ๋๋ค'
'๊ฐ๋งํ๊ณ ์ถ๊ตฌํ๊ณ ๊ตด๋ณตํ์ง ์๋๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋๋ ์ข
๊ต๋ฅผ ๊ฐ์ก๊ณ ๋ ์กฐ๋กฑ ์์ ์์๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค'
'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ์ฒ์์ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค' |
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo Creeping through the black
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo Creeping through the black
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo Creeping through the black | 'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ์ฒ์์ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค'
'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ์ฒ์์ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค'
'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ์ฒ์์ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค' |
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo Creeping through the black
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo Creeping through the black
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
Then I saw the Congo Creeping through the black | 'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ์ฒ์์ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค'
'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ์ฒ์์ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค'
'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ์ฒ์์ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค' |
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
Take it, Meeks. Take it away.
Cutting through the forest With a golden track.
"Then I saw the Congo creeping through the black."
A man is not very tired. He is exhausted.
And don't use "very sad," use... Come on, Mr. Overstreet, you twerp. | 'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค'
'ํฉ๊ธ์ ํต๋ก๊ฐ ์ฒ์์ ๊ฐ๋ก์ง๋ฅด๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์ด๋ ์์ ๋ํ๋ ์ฝฉ๊ณ ๋ฅผ ๋ณด์๋ค'
'๋งค์ฐ ์ง์ณค๋ค' ๋์ ์ '๋
น์ด๊ฐ ๋์๋ค' ํ๊ณ
'๋งค์ฐ ์ฌํ๋ค' ๋์ ์ ๋ฉ์ฒญ์ด ์ค๋ฒ์คํธ๋ฆฌํธ ๊ตฐ |
Mr. Anderson? Come on, are you a man or an amoeba?
Mr. Perry?
Uh, to communicate. No. To woo women.
Today we're gonna be talking about William Shakespeare. | ์ค๋์จ ๊ตฐ? ์, ๋งํด๋ด ์๋ค๋ ์ฉ๊ธฐ๊ฐ ์๋?
ํ๋ฆฌ ๊ตฐ
์ธ์ด ์ํต์ ์ํด์์ ์๋์ผ! ์ฌ์๋ฅผ ๊ผฌ์๊ธฐ ์ํด์์ผ
์ค๋ ์ฐ๋ฆฐ ์
ฐ์ต์คํผ์ด์ ์๋ฅผ ๋ฐฐ์ฐ๋๋ก ํ๊ฒ ๋ค |
Oh, God. I know. A lot of you look forward to this about as much as you look forward to root canal work.
We're gonna talk about Shakespeare as someone who writes something very interesting. | ๋ชจ๋ ์น๊ณผ์ ๊ฐ๋ ๊ฒ์ฒ๋ผ ์ซ์ดํ๋ค๋ ๊ฒ์ ์๊ณ ์๋ค
ํ์ง๋ง ์
ฐ์ต์คํผ์ด๊ฐ ์ ๋ง ์ฌ๋ฏธ์๋ ์๊ฐ์์ ์๊ฒ ๋ ๊ฑฐ๋ค |
Now, many of you have seen Shakespeare done very much like this:
"O, Titus, bring your friend hither."
But if any of you have seen Mr. Marlon Brando, you know Shakespeare can be different. | ์
ฐ์ต์คํผ์ด๊ฐ ์ด๋ฐ ๋ง์ ํ ๊ฒ์ ๋ค์ ์ ์ด ์์ ๊ฑฐ์ผ
'์ค, ํ์ดํฐ์ค ๋ค ์น๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ์ด๋ฆฌ ๋ฐ๋ ค์ค๋๋ผ'
ํ์ง๋ง ๋ง์ฝ ๋ง๋ฐ ๋ธ๋๋๊ฐ ์
ฐ์ต์คํผ์ด๊ฐ ํ ๋ง์ ํ๋ค๋ฉด ๋ฌ๋ผ์ง๊ฒ ์ง |
"Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears."
"Well, is this a dagger I see before me?"
""I do enjoy a good dog once in a while, sir."
You can have yourself a three-course meal from one dog.
Start with your canine cruditรฉs, go to your Fido flambรฉ for main course, and for dessert, a Pekingese parfait. | '์น๊ตฌ์ฌ, ๋ก๋ง์ธ์ด์ฌ ๋ํฌ์ฌ, ๋ด๊ฒ ๊ท๋ฅผ ๊ธฐ์ธ์ฌ๋ผ'
๋ ์กด ์จ์ธ์ด ๋งฅ๋ฒ ์ค๋ผ๋ฉด '๋ด ์์ ์๋ ๊ฒ ๋จ๊ฒ์ธ๊ฐ?'
'์ ๋ ๊ฐ๋์ ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ๋จน์ฃ '
'๊ฐ ํ ๋ง๋ฆฌ๋ผ๋ฉด ํ ๋ผ๋ฅผ ์ ๋จน์ ์ ์์ฃ '
'๊ฐ ํฌ๋ก์ผ์ ๋จน๊ณ ์ฃผ์์ ํ๋๋ฒ ๋ฅผ ๋ค๊ณ ' 'ํ์์ ๋ถ๊ฒฝ๊ฐ ํ๋ฅดํ์ฃ ' |
"And you can pick your teeth with a little paw."
Why do I stand up here? Anybody?
-To feel taller. -No. Thank you for playing, Mr. Dalton.
I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way. | '๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๋ฐํฑ์ผ๋ก ์ด๋นจ์ ์ค์ญ๋๋ค'
๋ด๊ฐ ์ ์ด ์์ ์ฐ๋์ง ์ด์ ๋ฅผ ์๋ ์ฌ๋?
- ํฌ๋ค๋ ๊ธฐ๋ถ์ ์๋ ค๊ณ ์ - ์๋์ผ, ๋ค์ ๊ธฐํ๋ก ๋ชจ์๊ฒ ์
์ด ์์ ์ ์ด์ ๋ ์ฌ๋ฌผ์ ๋ค๋ฅธ ๊ฐ๋์์ ๋ณด๋ ค๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ |
You see, the world looks very different from up here.
You don't believe me? Come see for yourselves. Come on. Come on.
Just when you think you know something, you have to look at it in another way. | ์ด ์์์ ๋ณด๋ฉด ์ธ์์ด ๋ฌด์ฒ ๋ค๋ฅด๊ฒ ๋ณด์ด์ง
๋ฏฟ๊ธฐ์ง ์๋๋ค๋ฉด ๋ํฌ๋ ํ๋ฒ ํด๋ด, ์ด์
์ด๋ค ์ฌ์ค์ ์๋ค๊ณ ์๊ฐํ ๋ ๊ทธ๊ฒ์ ๋ค๋ฅธ ์๊ฐ์์ ๋ด๋ผ |
Even though it may seem silly or wrong, you must try.
Now, when you read, don't just consider what the author thinks...
Consider what you think.
Boys, you must strive to find your own voice.
Because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. | ํ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ๋ฐ๋ณด ๊ฐ์ ์ผ์ผ์ง๋ผ๋ ์๋๋ฅผ ํด๋ด์ผ ํด
์ฑ
์ ์ฝ์ ๋ ์ ์์ ์๊ฐ๋ง ๊ณ ๋ คํ์ง ๋ง๊ณ
๋ํฌ ์๊ฐ๋ ๊ณ ๋ คํด ๋ณด๋๋ก ํด
๋ํฌ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๋ฅผ ์ฐพ์ ์ ์๋๋ก ํฌ์ํด์ผ ํด
๋ฆ๊ฒ ์์ํ ์๋ก ์ฐพ๊ธฐ๊ฐ ๋ ํ๋ค ๊ฒ์ด๋ค |
Don't be resigned to that. Break out. Don't just walk off the edge like lemmings, look around you.
There. There you go, Mr. Priske. Thank you. Yes. | ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ๋ฌผ๋ฌ๋์ง ๋ง๋ผ ๋ฒ์ด๋, ๊ทธ๋ฅ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ๊ฐ์ฅ์๋ฆฌ๋ง ๋น๋น ๋์ง ๋ง๊ณ ์ฃผ์๋ฅผ ๋๋ฌ๋ด๋ผ
์ํ๋ค, ํ๋ฆฌ์คํค ๊ตฐ ๊ณ ๋ง๋ค, ๊ทธ๊ฑฐ์ผ |
Dare to strike out and find new ground.
That's right.
You have to deliver it aloud in front of the class on Monday.
Bonne chance, gentlemen.
Mr. Anderson?
Don't think that I don't know that this assignment scares the hell out of you, you mole.
Take a power train in two. Three. Keep your eyes in the boat. Stroke. | ๊ณผ๊ฐํ๊ฒ ๋ถ๋ช์ณ ์๋ก์ด ์ธ๊ณ๋ฅผ ์ฐพ์๋ผ
๊ทธ๋ ์ง
์์์ผ ์์
์๋ ๊ฐ์์ ์๋ฅผ ์ง์ ๋ญ๋
ํ๋๋ก ํ๋ค
ํ์ด์ ๋น๋ค
์ค๋์จ ๊ตฐ
์ด ์์ ๋ฅผ ๊ฒ๋ด๊ณ ์๋ค๋ ๊ฑฐ ์์ ์ด ๋๋์ง ๊ฐ์ ์น๊ตฌ
2๋ฒ์ ๋ฐ๋ณตํด์ ํ์ฐจ๊ฒ ์ ์ด๋ผ 3๋ฒ, ๋๋ฐ๋ก ๋ชป ํ๋ |
Radio Free America.
-I found it. -You found what?
What I want to do right now. What's really, really inside of me.
-What is that? -It's a play, dummy. | ๋๋์ด ๋ฐฉ์ก์ด ์กํ์ด
- ์ฐพ์์ด - ๋ญ ์ฐพ์๋ค๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ?
์ง๊ธ ๋ด๊ฐ ์ ๋ง, ์ ๋ง๋ก ํ๊ณ ์ถ์ ์ผ์ ์ฐพ์๋จ ๋ง์ด์ผ
- ๊ทธ๊ฒ ๋ญ๋ฐ? - ์ฐ๊ทน์ด์์ |
I know that. What does it have to do with you?
All right. They're putting it on at Henley Hall. Open tryouts. Open tryouts.
Yes, so? So...
I'm gonna act. Aha! Yes. Yes. I'm gonna be an actor. | ๊ทธ๊ฑด ์์ ๊ทธ๊ฒ ๋์ ๋ฌด์จ ์๊ด์ด์ง?
๊ทธ๋, ํจ๋ฆฌํ์์ ๊ณต์ฐํ ๊ฑด๋ฐ ์ค๋์
์ ํ ๊ฑฐ๋ ๊ณต๊ฐ ์ค๋์
์ ํ๋ค๊ณ ๊ทธ๋์?
๊ทธ๋์!
์ฐ๊ทน์ ํด๋ณผ ๊ฑฐ์ผ! ๊ทธ๋! ๋ฐฐ์ฐ๊ฐ ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ! |
Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to try this.
I even tried to go to summer stock auditions last year, but, of course, my father wouldn't let me. | ๋ ํญ์ ์ฐ๊ทน์ ํ๊ณ ์ถ์์ด
์ง๋์ฌ๋ฆ ์ค๋์
์๋ ๋๊ฐ๋ ค ํ๋๋ฐ ์๋ฒ์ง๊ฐ ๋ฐ๋ํ์
จ์ด |
For the first time in my whole life, I know what I want to do.
And for the first time, I'm gonna do it!
Whether my father wants me to or not. Carpe diem! | ๋ด ์ธ์ ์ฒ์์ผ๋ก ๋ด๊ฐ ๋ญ ํ๊ณ ์ถ์์ง๋ฅผ ์์๋์ด
๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์ฒ์์ผ๋ก ์๋ฒ์ง๊ฐ
์ฐฌ์ฑํ๋ ๋ง๋ ๋ ๋ด๊ฐ ํ๊ณ ์ถ์ ๊ฒ์ ํ ๊ฑฐ์ผ! '์นด๋ฅดํ ๋์ '! |
Neil. Neil, hold on. How are you gonna be in a play if your father won't let you?
First, I gotta get the part, then I can worry about that.
Won't he kill you if he finds out you went to an audition and didn't tell him?
No. As far as I'm concerned, he won't have to know about any of this. | ๋, ์ง์ ํด, ์๋ฒ์ง๊ฐ ์น๋ํ์ง ์์ผ๋ฉด ์ด๋ป๊ฒ ํ ๊ฑฐ์ผ?
๋ฐฐ์ญ์ ๋ฐ๊ณ ๋ณผ ๊ฑฐ์ผ ๊ฑฑ์ ์ ๋ค์์ ํ์ง
์ด์ฉ๋ฉด ๋ ์ฃฝ์ด๋ ค๊ณ ํ์ค ํ
๋ฐ ๋ง์๋ ์ ๋๋ ธ๋ค๋ ๊ฑธ ์์ ๋ค๋ฉด
์๋, ์๋ ์๋ฒ์ง๋ ์์ค ํ์๊ฐ ์์ด |
That's impossible. Bullshit, nothing's impossible.
Why don't you just call him and ask him? Maybe he'll say yes.
That's a laugh.
If I don't ask him, at least I won't be disobeying him.
Yeah, but if he said no... Jesus, Todd. Whose side are you on? | ๊ทธ๊ฑด ๋ถ๊ฐ๋ฅํด ์๊ธฐ์ง ๋ง, ๋ถ๊ฐ๋ฅ์ ์์ด
์ด๋ด, ์ ํํด์ ๋งํด๋ด ํ๋ฝ์ ํ์ค์ง ๋๊ฐ ์๋?
๋ง๋ ์ ๋ผ
๋ง์ ์ ๋๋ฆฐ๋ค๊ณ ํด๋ ์๋ฒ์ง๋ฅผ ๊ฑฐ์ญํ๋ ๊ฑด ์๋
๊ทธ๋, ํ์ง๋ง... ์ ๊ธธ, ํ ๋, ๋ ๋๊ตฌ ํธ์ด์ผ? |
I mean, I haven't even gotten the part yet.
Can't I even enjoy the idea for a little while?
You're coming to the meeting this afternoon? I don't know. Maybe. | ์์ง ๋ฐฐ์ญ๋ ์ ๋์ง๋ง
์๊ฐ๋ง, ๊ทธ๋ฅ ์๊ฐ๋ง ํด๋ ๊ธฐ๋ถ์ด ์ข๋ค๊ณ
์ค๋ ์คํ ๋ชจ์์ ์ฌ ๊ฑฐ์ง? ํ์คํ ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ด |
Nothing Mr. Keating has to say means shit to you, does it, Todd?
What does that mean? You're in the club. Being in the club means being stirred up by things.
You look about as stirred up as a cesspool. So you want me out? No, I want you in.
But being in means you gotta do something, not just say you're in. | ํคํ
์ ์๋์ ๋ง์์ ์ดํด ๋ชป ํ๋ ๊ฑด ์๋๊ฒ ์ง
๊ทธ๊ฒ ๋ฌด์จ ๋ป์ด์ผ? ์ฐ๋ฆฌ ๋ชจ์์ ํ์์ด๋ผ๋ฉด ๋ฐ์์ ๋ณด์ฌ์ผ ํ๋๋ฐ
๋ ์ ํ ๋์๊ฐ ์๋ค๊ณ ๋๋ณด๊ณ ๋น ์ง๋ผ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ? ์๋, ๋ ๋ค๊ฐ ์์์ผ๋ฉด ํด ํ์ง๋ง ํ์์ธ ์ด์
๋๋ ๋ญ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ํด์ผ ํ๋ค๊ณ ๊ทธ๋ฅ ๋ง๋ก๋ง ํ์์ด ์๋๋ผ |
Well, listen, Neil. I appreciate this concern, but I'm not like you, all right?
You say things and people listen.
I'm not like that. Don't you think you could be? | ๋, ๋ค ๋ง์์ ์ดํดํ์ง๋ง ๋ ๋ํ๊ณ ๋ฌ๋ผ, ์๊ฒ ๋?
๋ค๊ฐ ๋งํ๋ฉด ์ฌ๋๋ค์ด ๊ท ๊ธฐ์ธ์ฌ ๋ค์ด์ฃผ์ง๋ง
๋ ์๋๋ผ๊ณ ๋๋ ๊ทธ๋ ๊ฒ ํ ์ ์๋ค๊ณ ๋ ์๊ฐํ์ง ์์? |
No. I... I don't know, but that's not the point.
The point is that there's nothing you can do about it.
So you can just butt out. I can take care of myself just fine. All right? | ์ ๋ผ, ๋ชจ๋ฅด๊ฒ ์ด ํ์ง๋ง ๋ฌธ์ ๋ ๊ทธ๊ฒ ์๋
์ค์ํ ๊ฑด ๋ค๊ฐ ์ด์ฉ ์ ์๋ ์ผ์ด๋๊น
๊ทธ๋ฅ ๋ ๋ด๋ฒ๋ ค ๋๋ผ๊ณ ๋ ์์ ์ ๋ด๊ฐ ๋๋ณผ ํ
๋๊น ์๊ฒ ์ด? |
No.
What do you mean, no?
No.
Give me... Neil, give that back. What is this? "We are dreaming of a..." What it this? Poetry. I'm being chased by Walt Whitman. | ์๋
์๋๋ผ๋ ๋ฌด์จ ๋ป์ด์ง?
์๋
๊ทธ๊ฑฐ ๋ด๋, ๋! ์ด์ ๋๋ ค ๋ฌ๋ผ๊ณ ! '์ฐ๋ฆฐ ๊ฟ๊พธ๊ณ ์๋ค', ๋ญ์ผ? ์์์, ํํธ๋จผ์ด ๋ ์ซ๊ณ ์๋ค |
OK. OK. What are you guys doing? I'm trying... You see this chemistry... Hey, give me... Neil, give me... Don't be immature. Come on. I need my...
Give it to me. Give it to me.
Charlie, help me.
OK, everybody on the bus. Let's go, boys.
Now, devotees may argue that one sport or game is inherently better than another. | ์์์ด! ์์๋ค๊ณ ! ๋ํฌ๋ค ๋ญ ํด? ๋ ์ง๊ธ ํํ ๊ณต๋ถ ํ๊ณ ์๋๋ฐ ์ด์ ๋ด ์ฑ
๋ด๋, ๋ ์ด์ ๋ฌ๋ผ๊ณ , ์ด๋ฆฐ์ ์ฒ๋ผ ๊ทธ๋ฌ์ง ๋ง๋ผ๊ณ , ๋นจ๋ฆฌ ๋ด๋
๋ํํ
์ค, ๋ํํ
์ด์ ๋๋ ค์ค
์, ๋ชจ๋ ๋ฒ์ค์ ํ ์ด์ ๋ฒ์ค์ ํ
์คํฌ์ธ ํฌ์ ์ด๋ค ๊ฒฝ๊ธฐ ์ข
๋ชฉ์ด ์ข๋ค ๋์๋ค ๋
ผ์ํ ์ ์์ง๋ง |
For me, sport is actually a chance for us to have other human beings push us to excel.
I want you all to come over here and take a slip of paper and line up single file. | ๋ ์คํฌ์ธ ๋ ํ์ธ์ ๋์์ผ๋ก ์์ ์ ํฅ์ํ ๊ธฐํ๋ผ๊ณ ์๊ฐํ๋ค
์, ๋ชจ๋ ์ฌ๊ธฐ์ ์์ ์ชฝ์ง๋ฅผ ํ๋์ฉ ๊ฐ์ง๊ณ ์ผ๋ ฌ์ข
๋๋ก ์ค์ ์๋ผ |
Mr. Meeks, time to inherit the earth.
Mr. Pitts, rise above your name. I want you to hand these out to the boys, one apiece.
You know what to do, Pitts.
"O to struggle against great odds To meet enemies undaunted."
Sounds to me like you're daunted. Say it like you're undaunted.
"O to struggle against great odds To meet enemies undaunted." | ๋ฏน์ค, ์ธ์์ ์ฐจ์งํด๋ผ
ํผ์ธ , ์ด๋ฆ์ ๊ตดํ์ง ๋ง๋ผ ์ ๋ค์๊ฒ ํ ์ฅ์ฉ ๋๋ ์ค๋ผ
์ด๋ป๊ฒ ํ๋์ง ์์ง, ํผ์ธ
'์น์ฐ ์๋ ์ธ์์ ๋์ ๊ฒ ์๋ ์ ์ ์๋ํ๊ธฐ ์ํด'
๊ฒ์ ์ง๋ฆฐ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฐ๋ฐ ๋ค์ ๊ฒ ์๋ ๋ชฉ์๋ฆฌ๋ก ํด๋ด
'์น์ฐ ์๋ ์ธ์์ ๋์ ๊ฒ ์๋ ์ ์ ์๋ํ๊ธฐ ์ํด' |
Now, go on. Yes! Next.
"To be a sailor of the world Bound for all ports."
Next. Louder.
""O while I live to be the ruler of life Not a slave."
Come on, Meeks. Listen to the music.
"To dance, clap hands, exult Shout, skip, roll on, float on!"
Yes. | ์, ๊ณต์ ์ฐจ ์ข์, ๋ค์
'์ธ๊ณ์ ๋ชจ๋ ํญ๊ตฌ๋ฅผ ๊ตฌ๊ฒฝํ ์ ์์ด ๋๊ธฐ ์ํ์ฌ'
๋ค์, ๋ ํฌ๊ฒ
'์ค, ๋ ์ธ์์ ๋
ธ์๊ฐ ์๋ ์ง๋ฐฐ์๊ฐ ๋๊ธฐ ์ํด ์ฐ๋ค'
์, ์์
์ ๋ค์ด๋ผ, ๋ฏน์ค
'์ถค์ถ๊ณ ์๋ผ ์น๋ฉฐ, ๊ธฐ๋ปํ๊ณ ๋ฐ๊ณ ์๋ฆฌ์น๊ณ ๋ ๋ค๋๊ธฐ ์ํ์ฌ'
๊ทธ๋ ์ง! |
"O to have life henceforth. A poem of new joys."
Aw, pbbt. Boo. Come on, Charlie. Let it fill your soul.
"To indeed be a God."
Charlie, I got the part. Rah! | '์ค, ์ง๊ธ๋ถํฐ ์๋กญ๊ณ ์ฆ๊ฑฐ์ด ์์ ์ธ์์ ๊ฐ๊ธฐ ์ํ์ฌ'
ํ๋ด๋ผ, ์ฐฐ๋ฆฌ! ์๋ ํ์ ๋คํด๋ผ!
'์ฐธ๋ ์ ์ด ๋๊ธฐ ์ํ์ฌ!'
์ฐฐ๋ฆฌ, ๋ ๋ฐฐ์ญ์ ๋์ด |
I'm gonna play Puck. I'm gonna play Puck.
-What did he say? -Puck?
-The main part. -Great, Neil.
Charlie, I got it. -Congratulations. -Good for you, Neil. Good for you.
OK. OK. OK.
Neil, how are you gonna do this? | ๋ด๊ฐ ํฝ์ ๋งก๊ฒ ๋์ด ํฝ์ ๋งก๊ฒ ๋์ด
- ๋ญ๋ผ๊ณ ํ์ง? - ์ฟ ๋จน์ด๋ผ!
- ์ฃผ์ฐ์ ๋งก์์ด! - ๋ฉ์ง๋ค, ๋!
- ์ฐฐ๋ฆฌ, ๋ ํด๋์ด - ์ถํํด, ๋ ์ข๊ฒ ๋ค, ๋
์, ์ง์ ํ๊ณ
๋, ์ด์ ์ด๋ป๊ฒ ํ ๊ฑฐ์ผ? |
They need a letter of permission from my father and Mr. Nolan.
-You're not gonna write it. -Oh, yes, I am. Oh, Neil, you're crazy.
"Neil Perry."
This is great. | ์๋ฒ์ง์ ๊ต์ฅ ์ ์๋์ ํ๊ฐ์๊ฐ ํ์ํด
์ค๋ง, ๋ค๊ฐ ์์ฑํ ๊ฑฐ๋? - ๊ทธ๋, ๋ด๊ฐ ํ ๊ฑฐ์ผ - ๋, ์ ์ ์ ์ด์ผ?
'ํธ์ง๋ฅผ ์๋๋ค'
๋๋ด์ค๋ค |
"To Chris." Who's Chris? Mmm. Chris.
""I see a sweetness in her smile."
Bright light shines from her eyes.
But life is complete Contentment is mine
Just knowing that...
"Just knowing that... She's alive."
Sorry, captain. It's stupid. No. No. It's not stupid.
A major theme not only in poetry, but life. | 'ํฌ๋ฆฌ์ค์๊ฒ' ํฌ๋ฆฌ์ค๊ฐ ๋๊ตฌ์ผ? ์, ํฌ๋ฆฌ์ค
'๊ทธ๋
์ ๋ฏธ์์๋ ๋ฌ์ฝคํจ์ด ์๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋
์ ๋์์ ๋น๋๋ ๋ฐ์ ๋น์ด์ฌ'
'ํ์ง๋ง ์ธ์์ ์๋ฒฝํ๋ค ๋ด ์ธ์์ ์์ ํ๋ค๋ค'
'๊ทธ๋
๊ฐ...'
'๊ทธ๋
๊ฐ ์ด์ ์๋ค๋ ๊ฒ์ ์๋ ๊ฒ๋ง์ผ๋ก๋'
์ฃ์กํฉ๋๋ค, ์ํฐ๋ฆฌ์
๋๋ค ์๋์ผ, ์ํฐ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ์๋
์๋ฟ๋ง ์๋๋ผ ์ธ์์ ์์ด์๋ ์ค์ํ ์ฃผ์ ์ง |
Mr. Hopkins, you were laughing. You're up.
"The cat sat on the mat."
Congratulations, Mr. Hopkins.
You have the first poem to ever have a negative score on the Pritchard scale. | ํํจ์ค ๊ตฐ, ์๋ค๊ฐ ์์์ผ๋๊น ์๋ค๊ฐ ํด๋ด
'๊ณ ์์ด๊ฐ ๋งคํธ ์์ ์์๋ค'
์ถํํ๋ค, ํํจ์ค ๊ตฐ
ํ๋ฆฌ์ฒ๋ ์ฑ์ ์ ์ฒซ ๋ง์ด๋์ค ์ ์๋ฅผ ๋๋ค |
We're not laughing at you. We're laughing near you.
I don't mind that your poem had a simple theme.
The most beautiful poetry can be about simple things like a cat, or a flower, or rain.
You see, poetry can come from anything with the stuff of revelation in it. | ์๋ค๋ฅผ ๋น์๋ ๊ฒ์ด ์๋๋ผ ์๋ค ๊ณ์์ ์๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ
์ฃผ์ ๊ฐ ๊ฐ๋จํ๋ค๊ณ ํด๋ ๋ฌธ์ ๋ ๊ฑด ์๋ค
๋๋ก ๊ฐ์ฅ ์๋ฆ๋ค์ด ์๋ ๋จ์ํ ์ฃผ์ ์ผ ์ ์์ผ๋๊น ๊ณ ์์ด๋ ๊ฝ ์๋๋ฉด ๋น ๊ฐ์ ๊ฑฐ๋ก
์๋ ๊ณ์๋ฅผ ์ง๋๊ณ ์ด๋์๋ ์ฐ๋ฌ๋์ค์ง |
Just don't let your poems be ordinary.
Now, who's next?
Mr. Anderson, I see you sitting there in agony.
Come on, Todd. Step up. Let's put you out of your misery. | ํ๋ฒํ๊ฒ๋ ์ฐ์ง ๋ง๋ผ
์, ๋ค์์ ๋๊ฐ ํ ๊น?
์ค๋์จ ๊ตฐ, ์๋ค๋ ๊ฑฐ๊ธฐ ์์์ ๊ณ ๋์ ์ฐจ ์๊ตฐ
์, ํ ๋, ์์ผ๋ก ๋์ค๊ฒ ์๋ค ๋ฌธ์ ๋ฅผ ํด๊ฒฐํด ์ฃผ๊ฒ ๋ค |
I didn't do it. I didn't write a poem.
Mr. Anderson thinks that everything inside of him is worthless and embarrassing.
Isn't that right, Todd? Isn't that your worst fear? Well, I think you're wrong. | ์ ์๋ฅผ ์ ์ผ์ด์
์ค๋์จ ๊ตฐ์ ์์ ์ ๋ด๋ฉด์ ์๋ ๊ฒ์ ๋ชจ๋ ๊ฐ์น ์๊ณ ์์น์ค๋ฝ๊ฒ ๋ณด๋๊ตฐ
์ ๊ทธ๋ฐ๊ฐ? ๊ทธ๊ฒ ์๋ค ๋๋ ค์์ด์ผ ๋ ์๋ค๊ฐ ์๋ชป๋๋ค๊ณ ์๊ฐํ๋ค |
I think you have something inside of you that is worth a great deal.
W.W. Uncle Walt again.
Now, for those of you who don't know, a yawp is a loud cry or yell. | ์๋ค ๋ด๋ฉด์๋ ๋งค์ฐ ๊ฐ์น ์๋ ๊ฒ ๋ค์ด์๋ค
๋ค์ ํํธ๋จผ ์์ ์จ ๋ง์ด์ผ
์, ์ฌ๊ธฐ์ '์ฅ'์ด๋ ์ปค๋ค๋ ์ธ๋ถ์ง์์ด๋ค |
Now, Todd, I would like you to give us a demonstration of a barbaric yawp.
Come on, you can't yawp sitting down. Let's go. Come on. Up.
Gotta get in yawping stance. | ํ ๋, ์ด๋ฆฌ ๋์์ ์ฐ๋ฆฌ์๊ฒ '์ฅ'์ด ๋ญ์ง ๋ณด์ฌ์ฃผ๊ฒ
์ด์, ์์์ '์ฅ'์ ๋ณด์ฌ์ค ์ ์์ง ์ผ์ด์, ์ด์ ์์ผ๋ก ๋์
'์ฅ'์ ์์ธ๋ฅผ ์ทจํด๋ผ |
A-a yawp. No, not just a yawp. A barbaric yawp.
Yeah. Yeah. Right. Yawp. Come on. Louder. Yawp. Oh, that's a mouse. Come on. Louder. Yawp.
-God, boy. Yell like a man. -Yawp! | ์ด, ์ฅ ๊ทธ๋ฅ '์ฅ'์ด ์๋๋ผ ์ธ๋ถ์ง์ผ๋ผ๋๊น
์ฅ ๋ ํฌ๊ฒ ์ฅ ์ฅ์๋ผ ์๋ฆฌ๋ง ํ๋ค, ๋ ํฌ๊ฒ ์ฅ
- ์ด๋ฐ, ๋ ์ฌ๋์ด๋ต๊ฒ - ์ฅ! |
There it is. You see, you have a barbarian in you after all.
Now, you don't get away that easy. There's a picture of Uncle Walt up there.
What does he remind you of? Don't think, answer. Go on.
A-a-a madman. What kind of madman? Don't think about it. Answer again. A crazy madman.
You can do better. Free up your mind. Use your imagination. | ๋ฐ๋ก ๊ทธ๊ฑฐ์ผ, ๋ค ๋ด๋ฉด์๋ ์ผ์ฑ์ ์ธ ๋ฉด์ด ์์ด
๋ฒ์จ ๋ค์ด๊ฐ๋ฉด ์ ๋์ง ์ ๊ธฐ ํํธ๋จผ ์์ ์จ์ ์ฌ์ง์ด ์๋ค
์ ์ฌ์ง์ด ๋ญ ์ฐ์์ํค๋ ๋งํด๋ด ์๊ฐํ์ง ๋ง๊ณ ๊ทธ๋ฅ ๋งํด
๋ฏธ์น ์ฌ๋ ์ด๋ค ์ข
๋ฅ์ ๋ฏธ์น ์ฌ๋? ์๊ฐ๋๋ ๋๋ก ๋๋ตํด ์ ์ ๋๊ฐ ๋ฏธ์น ์ฌ๋
์ค, ๋ ๋์์ง๋๊ตฐ ๋ง์์ ์ด๊ณ ์์๋ ฅ์ ํผ์น๊ณ |
Say the first thing that pops into your head, even if it's gibberish.
A sweaty-toothed madman.
Good God, boy. There's a poet in you after all.
There, close your eyes. Close your eyes. Close them. | ๋จธ๋ฆฟ์์ ํผ๋ฉ ๋ ์ค๋ฅด๋ ๊ฑธ ์๊ธฐํด ๋ฐ๋ณด ๊ฐ์ ์๊ธฐ๋ผ๋ ์ข์
๋์ ์ ์ด ์ด๋ฅผ ๋๋ฌ๋ธ ์ฌ๋
์ข์, ์ํ์ด ๋ํํ
๋ ์์ ์ธ ๊ฒ ์๊ตฌ๋!
์, ์ด๋ฒ์ ๋์ ๊ฐ์ ๋์ ๊ฐ์ |
Now describe what you see.
Uh, I close my eyes. Yes?
-Uh, and this image floats beside me. -A sweaty-toothed madman.
A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain. | ๋์ ๊ฐ์ ๊ฐ๊ณ ๋ญ๊ฐ ๋ณด์ด๋์ง ๋งํด๋ผ
๋์ ๊ฐ์์ต๋๋ค ๊ทธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ?
- ๊ทธ์ ๋ชจ์ต์ด ๋ด๊ฒ๋ก ์์ - ๋์ ์ ๊ณ ์ด๋ฅผ ๋๋ฌ๋ธ ๊ทธ๊ฐ
๋์ ์ ๊ณ ์ด๋ฅผ ๋๋ฌ๋ธ ๊ทธ๊ฐ ๋์ ๋๋ฅผ ๋
ธ๋ ค๋ณด๊ณ ์์ด์ |
Oh, that's excellent. Now give him action. Make him do something.
His hands reach out and choke me. That's it. wonderful. Wonderful.
And all the time he's mumbling. What's he mumbling? | ์ค, ํ๋ฅญํด, ๊ทธ์๊ฒ ๋ญ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ์์ผ๋ด, ๋ญ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ์์ผ๋ณด๋ผ๊ณ
๊ทธ์ ์์ด ๋ป์ด์์ ๋ด ๋ชฉ์ ์ก์์ ๊ทธ๋ ์ง, ํ๋ฅญํด
๊ณ์ ๋ญ๊ฐ๋ฅผ ์ค์ผ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฝ๋๋ค ๋ญ ์ค์ผ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์์ง? |
Mumbling truth. Truth, like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.
Forget them. Forget them. Stay with the blanket. Tell me about that blanket.
You can push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. | ์ง์ค์ ์ค์ผ๊ฑฐ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์์ด์ ๊ทธ๋ ์ง์ค์ ๋ฐ์ ์ฐจ๊ฐ๊ฒ ํ๋ ์ด๋ถ ๊ฐ์ ๊ฒ์
๋๋ค
๋ฌด์ํ๊ณ ์ ๊ฒฝ ์ฐ์ง ๋ง ์ด๋ถ ์๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๊ณ์ํด๋ด
์ก์๋น๊ฒจ๋ ๋์ด๋จ๋ ค๋ ์ด๋ถ์ ๋ถ์กฑํฉ๋๋ค |
You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us.
From the moment we enter crying to the moment we leave dying, it'll just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream. | ๋ฌด์จ ์๋ฅผ ์จ๋ด๋ ์ด๋ถ์ ์ฐ๋ฆด ๋ฎ์ด์ฃผ์ง ๋ชปํฉ๋๋ค
์ธ๋ฉด์ ํ์ด๋ ๋ ๋ถํฐ ์ฃฝ์์ผ๋ก ๋ ๋๋ ๋ ๊น์ง ์ธ๊ณ ์ ๊ทํ๊ณ ์ ์ํ๋ ์ฐ๋ฆฌ์ ์ผ๊ตด๋ง์ ๋ฎ์ ๊ฒ๋๋ค |
Don't you forget this.
Atta boy, Pittsie, inhale deeply.
My dad collects a lot of pipes. - Really? Mine's got 30. -Your parents collect pipes? Oh, that's really interesting. | ์ค๋ ์์
์ ๊ธฐ์ตํด๋ผ
๋ฐ๋ก ๊ทธ๊ฑฐ์ผ, ๊น๊ฒ ๋นจ์๋ค์ฌ
- ์ฐ๋ฆฌ ์๋ฒ์ง ํ์ดํ๋ฅผ ์์งํ์
- ๊ทธ๋? ๋ ํ 30๊ฐ์ฏค ๋ ๊ฑฐ์ผ ํ์ดํ๋ฅผ ์์งํ์ ๋ค๊ณ ? ์ ๋ง ์ฌ๋ฐ๋ค |
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