Ode to the West Wind 서풍의 노래 - Percy Bysshe Shelley
Ode to the West Wind I O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The wing? seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure..
2008. 3. 20.