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by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 - 1894)
Translation © by Salvador Pila

Home no more home to me, whither must I...
Language: English 
Our translations:  CAT GER ITA LIT
Home no more home to me, whither must I wander?
Hunger my driver, I go where I must.
Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather:
Thick drives the rain and my roof is in the dust.
Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree,
The true word of welcome was spoken in the door -
Dear days of old with the faces in the firelight,
Kind folks of old, you come again no more.

Home was home then, my dear, full of kindly faces,
Home was home then, my dear, happy for the child.
Fire and the windows bright glittered on the moorland;
Song, tuneful song, built a palace in the wild.
Now when day dawns on the brow of the moorland,
Lone stands the house, and the chimney-stone is cold.
Lone let it stand, now the friends are all departed,
The kind hearts, the true hearts, that loved the place of old.

Spring shall come, come again, calling up the moorfowl,
Spring shall bring the sun and rain, bring the bees and flowers;
Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley,
Soft flow the stream through the even-flowing hours.
Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood -
Fair shine the day on the house with open door;
Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney -
But I go for ever and come again no more.

About the headline (FAQ)

First published in Scots Observer, January 1889

Text Authorship:

  • by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 - 1894), no title, appears in Songs of Travel and other verses, no. 16, to the tune of Wandering Willie, first published 1896 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

  • by John Theodore Livingston Raynor (1909 - 1970), "Home no more home to me", op. 210 (1948) [ voice and piano ] [sung text not yet checked]
  • by Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872 - 1958), "Whither must I wander?", 1901, published 1902, rev. 1912?, orchestrated 1962, from Songs of Travel, no. 7 [sung text checked 1 time]

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • CAT Catalan (Català) (Salvador Pila) , "On haig d’anar?", copyright © 2016, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (David Paley) , "Wohin muss ich wandern?", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • ITA Italian (Italiano) (Ferdinando Albeggiani) , "Dove mi tocca andare?", copyright © 2008, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • LIT Lithuanian (Lietuvių kalba) (Giedrius Prunskus) , "Kur turiu keliauti?", copyright © 2023, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 234

On haig d’anar?
Language: Catalan (Català)  after the English 
La casa ja no és una llar per a mi. On haig d’anar?
Amb la fam com guiatge, aniré on cal que vagi.
Fred bufa el vent d’hivern damunt brucs i tossals:
copiosa cau la pluja i la meva teulada està feta pols.
Preuada pels homes il·lustres era l’ombra de la meva porxada,
una sincera paraula de benvinguda s’enunciava a la porta,
dies estimats d’antany de cara al foc de la llar,
bona gent de temps passats que mai més tornaran.

Estimada, en aquell temps la casa era una llar, plena de cares amables,
una llar veritable, estimada, feliç per als infants.
El foc i la llum de les finestres lluentejaven damunt l’ermàs;
cançons, cançons melodioses, bastien un palau al baterell.
Ara, quan apunta el dia al marge de l’ermàs,
la casa està solitària i freda la pedra de la xemeneia.
Deixa que resti sola ara que tots els amics han marxat,
aquells cors gentils i fidels que temps ha, aquest lloc estimaren.

La primavera tornarà, tornarà de nou, fent venir les aus a l’ermàs,
la primavera portarà sol i pluja, abelles i flors;
vermell florirà el bruc arreu a valls i tossals,
suaument correrà el rierol entre les hores calmes.
Esplèndid llueix el dia com ho feia a la meva infantesa, 
esplèndid llueix el dia a la casa amb les portes obertes;
allà criden i piulen els ocells a la xemeneia,
però jo me’n vaig per sempre i no tornaré mai més.

Text Authorship:

  • Translation from English to Catalan (Català) copyright © 2016 by Salvador Pila, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
    Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net

Based on:

  • a text in English by Robert Louis Stevenson (1850 - 1894), no title, appears in Songs of Travel and other verses, no. 16, to the tune of Wandering Willie, first published 1896
    • Go to the text page.

 

This text was added to the website: 2016-02-11
Line count: 24
Word count: 243

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This website began in 1995 as a personal project by Emily Ezust, who has been working on it full-time without a salary since 2008. Our research has never had any government or institutional funding, so if you found the information here useful, please consider making a donation. Your help is greatly appreciated!
–Emily Ezust, Founder

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