When the blazing sun hangs low in the western sky,
when the wind dies away on the mountain,
when the song of the meadowlark turns still,
when the field locust clicks no more in the field,
and the sea foam sleeps like a maiden at rest,
and twilight touches the shape of the wandering earth,
I turn home.
Through blue shadows and purple woods,
I turn home.
I turn to the place that I was born,
to the mother who bore me and the father who taught me,
long ago, long ago, long ago.
Alone am l now, lost and alone, in a far, wide, wandering world.
Yet still when the blazing sun hangs low,
when the wind dies away and the sea foam sleeps,
and twilight touches the wandering earth,
I turn home.
when the wind dies away on the mountain,
when the song of the meadowlark turns still,
when the field locust clicks no more in the field,
and the sea foam sleeps like a maiden at rest,
and twilight touches the shape of the wandering earth,
I turn home.
Through blue shadows and purple woods,
I turn home.
I turn to the place that I was born,
to the mother who bore me and the father who taught me,
long ago, long ago, long ago.
Alone am l now, lost and alone, in a far, wide, wandering world.
Yet still when the blazing sun hangs low,
when the wind dies away and the sea foam sleeps,
and twilight touches the wandering earth,
I turn home.
𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐠
𝐒𝐧ø 𝐨𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐨𝐠 𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐠
𝐅𝐫å 𝐟𝐲𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐯å𝐫𝐭
𝐅ø𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭, 𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐧ø 𝐨𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐨𝐠
𝐇𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐢 𝐨𝐬𝐬,
𝐎𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚
𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐣𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐧 𝐤𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦ø𝐫𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞,
𝐃𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐬𝐬
𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐢 𝐯å𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞,
𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚.
𝐎𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭, 𝐡𝐚𝐫 𝐯𝐢 𝐬𝐧ø 𝐨𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐨𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐝
𝐉𝐚, 𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐧ø, 𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐬å 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫
𝐊𝐯𝐚𝐫 𝐯𝐢 𝐞𝐫, 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢 𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭
𝐎𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐫 𝐢 𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐧𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐦 å 𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦
𝐊𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦, 𝐠å 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢 𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐁ø𝐲𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐠 𝐤𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐬å 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐟æ𝐫 𝐢 𝐞𝐢𝐧
𝐊𝐯𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐫 å 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐡ø𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐥.
𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚
𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐥å𝐤𝐭 𝐢 𝐯å𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐣𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞.
-Tarjei Vesaas.
𝐒𝐧ø 𝐨𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐨𝐠 𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐠
𝐅𝐫å 𝐟𝐲𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐯å𝐫𝐭
𝐅ø𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭, 𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐧ø 𝐨𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐨𝐠
𝐇𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐢 𝐨𝐬𝐬,
𝐎𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚
𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐣𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐧 𝐤𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦ø𝐫𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞,
𝐃𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐬𝐬
𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐢 𝐯å𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞,
𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚.
𝐎𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐭, 𝐡𝐚𝐫 𝐯𝐢 𝐬𝐧ø 𝐨𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐨𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐝
𝐉𝐚, 𝐥𝐢𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐧ø, 𝐨𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝐬å 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐭 𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐫
𝐊𝐯𝐚𝐫 𝐯𝐢 𝐞𝐫, 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐢 𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐭
𝐎𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐫 𝐢 𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐧𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐦 å 𝐤𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦
𝐊𝐨𝐦𝐚 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐦, 𝐠å 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢 𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐁ø𝐲𝐠𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐠 𝐤𝐣𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐬å 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐟æ𝐫 𝐢 𝐞𝐢𝐧
𝐊𝐯𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐫 å 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐡ø𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐥.
𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐚
𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐥å𝐤𝐭 𝐢 𝐯å𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐣𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞.
-Tarjei Vesaas.
Translation:
𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐬
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐀 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝,
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐬
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬,
𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐈𝐟 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐭
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
𝐓𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠.
𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥.
𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐬
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐀 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝,
𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐬
𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬,
𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐈𝐟 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬
𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞
𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐭
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
𝐓𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭
𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠.
𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫
𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥.