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ÇØ´Â ¾ÆÁ÷µµ Ãâ±ÙÇÏÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù

 

´ëÁö(ÓÞò¢)´Â ¾ÆÁ÷µµ µÚµ¹¾Æ ´©¿öÀÖ´Ù

 

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¸ø µéÀº ô µÚµ¹¾Æ ¾É¾Æ ÀÖ´Â »çȸ(Þäüå)°¡ ±âÀÎ(ÐôìÑ)°°´Ù

 

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1100°³ÀÇ ½Ã(Poem)°¡ º°(Star)ÀÌ µÇ¾î ¿ìÁÖ(éÔñµ)¿¡ ºû³ª°í ÀÖ´Ù @

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One thousand and one hundred  stars

JuAh. Sang C Rey

 

Still dark morning

The moon leaves work early

and the sun still does not go to work.

 

The earth is still lying back

 

The sky

wakes up so that the throat rests,

but a society that pretends not to hear it and sits back is like magic.

 

He said, ¡°Let there be light, and it was good.¡±

Even though the soil collapsed, the spirit became clearer,

and 1,100 poems became stars, shining in the universe.@

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