To be, or not to be

To be, or not to be, that is the question.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream
ay, there's the rub.
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause—there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th'oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of dispriz'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th'unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovere'd country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action.

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죽느냐 사느냐, 그것이 문제로다.
격노한 운명의 화살과 물맷돌을
마음 속으로 견뎌내는 것이 더 고귀한가,
아니면 무기를 들고 곤경의 바다에 맞서,
끝을 내는 것이 더 고귀한가. 죽는 것은, 잠드는 것,
그것 뿐. 잠으로 심장의 고통과 육신으로부터 지음 받은
천가지 천부적인 충동을 끝낼 수 있다면 그것이 독실히도 바라던 것 아닌가. 죽는 것은, 잠드는 것.
잠이 들면 꿈을 꾼다.
그것이 곤란하구나!
죽음의 잠에서, 어떤 꿈이 올지 모르기에.
그것이 우리를 주저 하도록 하고, 그것 때문에
이 재앙의 긴 삶을 사는 것이다.
그렇지 않다면 그 누가 이 세 사나운 채찍을 견디며, 권력자의 잘못과 세도가의 멸시,
경멸적인 사랑의 고통스러움과 끝없는 소송, 관리들의 오만
그리고 인내의 가치가 하찮은 자들에게 받는 멸시를,
이 모든 것은 어떻게 참고 지내겠는가?
빼어 든 단검 한 자루면 스스로 삶에 종지부를 찍을 수 있는데
그 누가 무거운 짐을 진채 지친 삶 속에서 땀을 흘릴 것인가?
죽음 뒤에 올 두려운 무언가,
경계에서 돌아온 여행자가 없는 발견되지 않는 나라가
의지를 교란시켜,
알 수도 없는 고난으로 가느니 차라리 지금 겪고 있는 고난을 견디게 한다면?
그렇게 깨달음이 우리 모두를 겁쟁이로 만들고
그리하여 결단의 생기 찬 빛깔은
사념의 창백한 기색으로 드리워지고
위대한 정점의 진취와 움직임도
이런 이유로 물길이 틀어져
행동이란 이름마저 잃는다.

To be, or not to be, Ay there's the point,
To Die, to sleep, is that all? Aye all:
No, to sleep, to dream, aye marry there it goes,
For in that dream of death, when we awake,
And borne before an everlasting Judge,
From whence no passenger ever returned,
The undiscovered country, at whose sight
The happy smile, and the accursed damn'd.
But for this, the joyful hope of this,
Who'd bear the scorns and flattery of the world,
Scorned by the right rich, the rich cursed of the poor?
The widow being oppressed, the orphan wrong'd,
The taste of hunger, or a tyrants reign,
And thousand more calamities besides,
To grunt and sweat under this weary life,
When that he may his full Quietus make,
With a bare bodkin, who would this endure,
But for a hope of something after death?
Which puzzles the brain, and doth confound the sense,
Which makes us rather bear those evils we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Aye that, O this conscience makes cowards of us all,
Lady in thy orizons, be all my sins remembered.

To be, or not to be, that is the question,
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outragious fortune,
Or to take Arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them, to die to sleep
No more, and by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir too; tis a consumation
Devoutly to be wish'd to die to sleep,
To sleep, perhance to dream, ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we haue shuffled off this mortal coil
Muſt giue vs pauſe, there's the reſpect
That makes calamitie of ſo long life:
For who would beare the whips and ſcorns of time,
Th'oppreſſors wrong, the proude mans contumly,
The pangs of deſpiz'd loue, the lawes delay,
The inſolence of office, and the ſpurnes
That patient merrit of the'vnworthy takes,
When he himſelfe might his quietas make
With a bare bodkin; who would fardels beare,
To grunt and ſweat vnder a wearie life,
But that the dread of ſomething after death,
The vndiſcouer'd country, from whose borne
No trauiler returnes, puzzels the will,
And makes vs rather beare thoſe ills we haue,
Then flie to others we know not of.
Thus conſcience dooes make cowards,
And thus the natiue hiew of reſolution
Is ſickled ore with the pale caſt of thought,
And enterpriſes of great pitch and moment,
With this regard theyr currents turne awry,
And loose the name of action. Soft you now,
The faire Ophelia, Nimph in thy orizons
Be all my ſinnes remembred.

To be, or not to be, that is the Question:
Whether ’tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outragious Fortune,
Or to take Armes against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them: to dye, to sleep
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The Heart-ake, and the thouſand Naturall ſhockes
That Flesh is heyre too? 'Tis a consummation
Deuoutly to be wiſh'd. To dye to sleepe,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; I, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we haue ſhufflel’d off this mortall coile,
Muſt giue us pause. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of ſo long life:
For who would beare the Whips and Scornes of time,
The Oppreſſors wrong, the poore mans Contumely,
The pangs of diſpriz’d Loue, the Lawes delay,
The inſolence of Office, and the Spurnes
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himſelfe might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would theſe Fardles beare
To grunt and ſweat vnder a weary life,
But that the dread of ſomething after death,
The vndiſcouered Countrey, from whoſe Borne
No Traueller returnes, Puzels the will,
And makes vs rather beare those illes we haue,
Then flye to others that we know not of.
Thus Conſcience does make Cowards of vs all,
And thus the Natiue hew of Resolution
Is ſicklied o’re, with the pale caſt of Thought,
And enterprizes of great pith and moment,
With this regard their Currants turne away,
And looſe the name of Action. Soft you now,
The faire Ophelia? Nimph, in thy Orizons
Be all my ſinnes remembred.

To be, or not to be. That is the question/Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer/The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
죽느냐, 사느냐. 그것이 문제로다. 가혹한 운명의 물맷돌과 화살을 마음 속으로 견뎌내는 것이 더 고귀한가.
→ In one of the Bard's best-thought-of tragedies, our insistent hero, Hamlet, queries on two fronts about how life turns rotten.
셰익스피어의 가장 잘 고안한 비극 중 하나에서, 우리의 고집 센 주인공 햄릿은 삶이 어떻게 부패하는지를 두 개의 관점에서 묻는다. 죽는 것과 사는 것의 관점으로