
[Production Note] "Gwisin-gak" is not merely a ghost story intended to frighten. It is a record of a soul sentenced to the deepest punishment of all: being forgotten. The pavilion in the song, 'Gwisin-gak,' transcends its physical form to become a symbolic realm where the hearts of all erased beings reside. As you listen to this song, you are not a mere audience member but the sole guest invited into her narrative. When you lend your ear to her story in exchange for your "deepest sigh," she finally regains the meaning of her existence. This song is a sad yet beautiful invitation, posing questions about our compassion for the forgotten and the profound power of memory. '๊ท์ฌ๊ฐ'๋ ๋จ์ํ ๋ฌด์์ด ๊ท์ ์ด์ผ๊ธฐ๊ฐ ์๋๋๋ค. ์ด๊ฒ์ '์ํ'์ด๋ผ๋ ๊ฐ์ฅ ๊น์ ํ๋ฒ์ ๋ฐ์ ํ ์ํผ์ ๋ํ ๊ธฐ๋ก์ ๋๋ค. ๋ ธ๋ ์ ๋๊ฐ '๊ท์ฌ๊ฐ'์ ๋ฌผ๋ฆฌ์ ์ธ ๊ณต๊ฐ์ ๋์ด, ์ธ์์์ ์ง์์ง ๋ชจ๋ ์กด์ฌ์ ๋ง์์ด ๋จธ๋ฌด๋ ์์ง์ ์ธ ์ฅ์์ ๋๋ค. ์ด ๋ ธ๋๋ฅผ ๋ฃ๋ ๋น์ ์ ๋จ์ํ ์ฒญ์๊ฐ ์๋๋ผ, ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ด์ผ๊ธฐ์ ์ด๋๋ฐ์ ์ ์ผํ ์๋์ ๋๋ค. ๋น์ ์ 'ํ์จ'์ ๋๊ฐ๋ก ๊ทธ๋ ์ ์ด์ผ๊ธฐ์ ๊ท๋ฅผ ๊ธฐ์ธ์ผ ๋, ๋น๋ก์ ๊ทธ๋ ๋ ์กด์ฌ์ ์๋ฏธ๋ฅผ ๋์ฐพ์ต๋๋ค. ์ด ๊ณก์ ์ํ ์กด์ฌ๋ค์ ๋ํ ์ฐ๋ฏผ๊ณผ ๊ธฐ์ต์ ํ์ ๋ํ ์ง๋ฌธ์ ๋์ง๋, ์ฌํ๊ณ ๋ ์๋ฆ๋ค์ด ์ด๋์ฅ์ ๋๋ค. [ํ๊ตญ์ด] ์ด์ ์ค์๊ฒโฆ ์ด ๋๊ฐ์ ์ํ ํผ์ด ๊น๋ ์ ์. ๊ทธ๋์ ๊ฐ์ฅ ๊น์ ํ์จ์ ๋๊ฐ๋ก, ๋ฌ๋น์ ๊ธธ๋ค์ฌ์ง ์ด์ผ๊ธฐ๋ฅผ ๋ค๋ ค์ฃผ์ง. ๊ณ ์ํ ๊น๋ ์ ๋ฑ๋ถ ์๋, ๋๊ฐ ๊ทธ๋ค๋ฅผ ๋ฐ๊ณ ์๋๊ฐ ๋ฌ๋น์ ๋น์น ํฐ ์น๋ง์๋ฝ, ์ธ์ง ์์ผ๋ ค ์ ์ ์ ๊นจ๋ฌผ์ด ๋ก์ ์ฐฝํธ ๋๋จธ๋ก ๋๊ฐ ์๊พธ ๋ฌธ์ ๋๋๋ฆฌ๋ (๋๋ตํ๋ฉด ์ ๋ผ) ๋ถ์ฑ ์ ๊ทธ๋ฆผ์ ํ๋, ๋ฐฉ์ธ ์๋ฆฌ๋ก ์ด๋ฆ์ ๋ถ๋ฅด๋ฉด ๊ฑฐ์ธ์ ๊ฑฐ๊พธ๋ก ๋น์ถ๊ณ ์์ ๋ค์ ๋๋ฌผ์ด ์จ์ด ์์ด ์ฅ๋จ ์์ ๋ค์ํจ ๋ฐ์๊ตญ, ์์์ธ์ง ์ธ์์ธ์ง ๋ชจ๋ฅผ ๋ฉ์๋ฆฌ ๊ฝ์ ๋, ํ๋ณต๋, ํ๋ ๋ชจ๋ ๋ฒ๊ฒจ์ ธ ๋จ๋ ๊ฑด ์ํ ๋ง์์ ๋ ธ๋๋ฟ ๋๋ ์ฌ์ฐ์๊ณ , ํ๋๋ ์ฌ๋์ด์์ง ๋ถ์ ๋น๋ , ๊ธ๊ฐ๋ฝ์ง ๋ชจ๋ ๋ฒ๋ฆฐ ๋ฐค ๊ฐ์ ๋ ์ฌ์ด๋ก ํผ๋ ๊ฝ์์ฒ๋ผ ๊ธฐ๋ค๋ฆผ์ ์ง๊ณ , ๊น์ ํ๋ง ๋จ์๋ค ๊ฟ์ธ ๋ฏ, ์์์ธ ๋ฏ โํจ๊ป ๋์์ค๋?โ ์๋ฆฌ ์๋ ์ธ์นจ์ด ๋ ํฌ๊ฒ ์ธ๋ฆฌ๊ณ ์ง์ฌ์ ๊ฒฐ์ฝ ๊ฐ๋ ค์ง์ง ์๋ ๋ฒ ๊น์ ์ฐ์ค ์ธ๋ด ๋๊ฐ์ ์์ง๋ ์์ด์ ์๋ฆฌ๊ฐ ํฉ๋ ๋ ค ์ฅ๋จ ์์ ๋ค์ํจ ๋ฐ์๊ตญ, ์์์ธ์ง ์ธ์์ธ์ง ๋ชจ๋ฅผ ๋ฉ์๋ฆฌ ๊ฝ์ ๋, ํ๋ณต๋, ํ๋ ๋ชจ๋ ๋ฒ๊ฒจ์ ธ ๋จ๋ ๊ฑด ์ํ ๋ง์์ ๋ ธ๋๋ฟ โ์๋ฌด๋ ์ค์ง ์๋ ๋ , ๋๋ ์ค์ค๋ก ์ํ๋ ๋ฒ์ ๋ฐฐ์ ๋ค. ๊ทธ๋ฐ๋ฐ ๊ทธ๋โฆ ์ ๋ด ๋ ธ๋๋ฅผ ๊ธฐ์ตํ๊ณ ์๋๊ฐ?โ (๋๋ ๋ ๊ธฐ์ตํ๋?) ์ฅ๋จ ์์ ๋ค์ํจ ๋ฐ์๊ตญ! ์์์ธ์ง ์ธ์์ธ์ง ๋ชจ๋ฅผ ๋ฉ์๋ฆฌ! ๊ฝ์ ๋, ํ๋ณต๋, ํ๋ ๋ชจ๋ ๋ฒ๊ฒจ์ ธ! ๋จ๋ ๊ฑด ๊ทธ๋ ๊ธฐ๋ค๋ฆฐ ๋ด ๋ ธ๋๋ฟ! ๋ค์ ๋ณด๋ฆ๋ฌ์ด ๋จ๋ ๋ฐค, ๋ด ๋ ธ๋๋ฅผ ์์ง ์๋๋ค๋ฉดโฆ โฆ๊ทธ๋๋, ๋ฌธ์ ์ด๊ณ ๋ค์ด์ฌ ํ ๊ฐ? ===================== [English] Come inโฆ This pavilion is where a forgotten soul resides. For the price of your deepest sigh, I'll tell you a tale tamed by moonlight. Beneath the silent lantern light, Who is pushing the swing? A white skirt's hem, reflected in the moonlight, Biting my lip to keep from crying. Beyond the old paper door, Who keeps on knocking? (You mustn't answer) A single shadow within the fan, When my name is called by the sound of a bellโฆ The mirror reflects everything backwards, And behind the laughter, tears are hiding. Footsteps tangled in the rhythm, An echo of laughter or a cry, I can't tell. The flower shoes, the hanbok, the mask, all stripped away, Only the song of a forgotten heart remains. I was a fox, and once, I was human. The night I threw away the red hairpin and golden rings. Like a flower that bloomed between closed eyes, The waiting withered, and only a deep sorrow (Han) was left. As if in a dream, or in realityโฆ โWill you play with me?โ A silent scream echoes even louder, A true heart can never be concealed. In this lone pavilion deep in the mountains, The voice of a child still scatters on the wind. Footsteps tangled in the rhythm, An echo of laughter or a cry, I can't tell. The flower shoes, the hanbok, the mask, all stripped away, Only the song of a forgotten heart remains. โOn the days when no one came, I learned how to forget myself. But youโฆ Why do you remember my song?โ (Do you remember me?) Footsteps tangled in the rhythm! An echo of laughter or a cry, I can't tell! The flower shoes, the hanbok, the mask, all stripped away! Only my song, which waited for you, remains! On the night of the next full moon, If you don't forget my songโฆ โฆWill you still open the door and come in?

