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Oh Pocheon-Si,
My home a new found land,
True love I have
For the people, oh so grand
Offhand they gaze and
What do they see?
But the beautiful countryside
They call Pocheon-si.



¿À, Æ÷õ½Ã¿©
³ªÀÇ °íÇâ, »õ·Î ãÀº °÷ÀÌ¿©
³»°¡ ½Ã¹Îµé¿¡°Ô
ÁøÁ¤ÇÑ Å« »ç¶ûÀ» °¡Á³³ª´Ï
±×µéÀº ±×´ë·Î ¼­¼­ ÀÀ½ÃÇϴµ¥,
±×µéÀº ¹«¾ùÀ» º¸´Â °ÍÀΰ¡
±×·¯³ª ±×µéÀÌ Æ÷õ½Ã¶ó ºÎ¸£´Â °÷Àº
¾Æ¸§´Ù¿î °÷À̶ó

Ah, to live in Pocheon or not to live in Pocheon? That is just one of the questions Shakespeare never had the privilege to address, but I do. In articles to follow I hope to paint a picture for you that will exhibit the true nature of my love for this home I now call, Pocheon-Si.
As I gaze out my window at the wondrous vista of nature and man¡¯s coexistence; am I doing this through the eyes of a Seoulite? No, I am originally from Canada and have lived in the Pocheon area for the past seven years. Many of my friends, both Korean and others from different countries, often ask me, ¡°What the heck are you doing way up there, why aren¡¯t you living in Seoul?¡± It¡¯s simple, there¡¯s a natural beauty here that doesn¡¯t exist in Seoul.
In fact, I am fortunately away from that noisy bastion of concrete and steel. Instead, I get to share the fertile ground and flowing streams that breathe a peaceful energy and where the people take a certain pride in knowing how special this area is. Special in a way that its history dates back to the Goryeo dynasty and its people retain a pride that places the importance of cultural diversity and prosperity within its subtle musings.
To backtrack a bit, I had my first taste of Pocheon through the magical elixir that is considered a national treasure by beverage aficionados who proclaim the conjuring qualities of makgeolli. That¡¯s right! Who, in Korea, has not had or heard of Pocheon makgeolli? Once considered the beverage of choice for the hard working farmers in the area and given names like ¡®takju¡¯ and ¡®nongju¡¯,
Pocheon maekgeolli is a little bit of Korean heaven in a bottle. There is nothing like sitting down with friends on a rainy day and consuming a few bottles of Pocheon maekgeolli and eating copious amounts of Idong Galbi, and that¡¯s the point. Pocheon maekgeolli acts as a catalyst for friendly banter and selectable Korean cuisine. In fact, I recall a time when I was slowly making my way through the Sin-Eup market when all of a sudden I heard a cry, ¡°Hey Waeguk, come eat, drink with us!¡± How could I resist the invitation? It turned out to be one of the best market daze I ever had.
I¡¯ve seen the people who live here welcome and nurture those who decide to call Pocheon their home. A twinkle in their eyes, that is infectious, and bleeds a gleaming smile to those who are fortunate to participate in the richness of this area. Many of us are caught up in life¡¯s blazing trail and have no time to stop and smell the roses, but in Pocheon, even with life¡¯s swirling demands, nature commands you to just stop and stare! Leisure What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars like skies at night.
No time to turn at beauty¡¯s glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance. No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began. A poor life this if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.
but rather¡¦.looking through the wondrous eyes of an environment that screams: Pocheon-si!!!

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Á¶±Ý µÇµ¹¾Æ°¡¸é ³ª´Â ¸¶·ÂÀ» Áö´Ñ ¸·°É¸®¸¦ ³ªÅ¸³»´Â ÃÖ°íÀÇ À½·á·Î ±¹°¡Àû º¸¹°·Î¼­ °£ÁֵǴ ¸¶¼úÀûÀÎ ¸¸º´ÅëÄ¡¾àÀ» ÅëÇØ¼­ Æ÷õÀÇ ÃÖÃÊÀÇ ¸ÀÀ» À½¹ÌÇÏ¿´´Ù. ±×·¸´Ù! Çѱ¹¿¡¼­ ´©°¡ Æ÷õ¸·°É¸®¸¦ ¸¶½ÃÁö ¾Ê¾Ò°Å³ª µé¾îº¸Áö ¸øÇÑ »ç¶÷ÀÌ Àְڴ°¡. ÇÑ ¶§´Â µé¿¡¼­ ¿­½ÉÈ÷ ÀÏÇÏ´Â ³óºÎµéÀ» À§ÇÑ Å¹¿ùÇÑ À½·á·Î ¿©°Ü¼­ ¡®Å¹ÁÖ¡¯ ±×¸®°í ¡®³óÁÖ¡¯·Î ÀÏÄþú´Ù.

Æ÷õ¸·°É¸®´Â º´ ¾È¿¡ ÀÖ´Â ÀÏÁ¾ÀÇ Çѱ¹Àû õ±¹ÀÌ´Ù. ¾î´À °Íµµ ºñ¿À´Â ³¯¿¡ Ä£±¸µé°ú ÇÔ²² ¾É¾Æ¼­ ¸î º´ÀÇ Æ÷õ¸·°É¸®¸¦ ¸¶½Ã¸é¼­ À̵¿ °¥ºñ¸¦ ¶â´Â °Í¿¡ ºñÇÒ°Ô ¾ø´Ù. ±×°Ô ¹Ù·Î ¿äÁ¡ÀÌ´Ù. Æ÷õ¸·°É¸®´Â Ä£±ÙÇÑ ³ó´ã°ú ¼±ÅÃÇÒ¸¸ÇÑ Çѱ¹ À½½Ä¿¡ ´ëÇÑ ½Ã±Ý¼® ³ë¸©À» ÇÑ´Ù. »ç½Ç, ³»°¡ ½ÅÀ¾ ½ÃÀåÅëÀ» °É¾î°¡°í ÀÖÀ» ¶§ °©Àڱ⠿ÜÄ¡´Â ¼Ò¸®°¡ µé·Á¿Ô´Ù.
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What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?
No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.
No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.
No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars like skies at night.
No time to turn at beauty¡¯s glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.
No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

W. H. Davies (1871-1940)


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±× ¹ßÀ» ºÁ¶ó, ¾î¶»°Ô ÃãÀ» Ãߴ°¡¸¦
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¿ì¸®´Â ¼­¼­ ¹Ù¶óº¼ ½Ã°£ÀÌ ¾øÀ¸´Ï

W. H. µ¥À̺ñ½º (1871~1940)


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