Here awa', there awa' wandering, Willie,
  Here awa', there awa', haud awa' hame;
Come to my bosom, my ae only deary,
  Tell me thou bring'st me my Willie the same.

Loud tho' the winter blew cauld on our parting,
  'Twas na the blast brought the tear in my e'e:
Welcome now Simmer, and welcome my Willie;
  The Simmer to Nature, my Willie to me.

Rest, ye wild storms, in the cave o' your slumbers,
  How your dread howling a lover alarms!
Wauken, ye breezes! row gently, ye billows!
  And waft my dear Laddie ance mair to my arms.

But oh, if he 's faithless, and minds na his Nanie,
  Flow still between us, thou wide roaring main:
May I never see it, may I never trow it,
  But, dying, believe that my Willie 's my ain!

J. Haydn sets stanzas 1, 3-4

About the headline (FAQ)

Note: in some editions, "Nanie" is spelled "Nannie"
Here awa' = hither
There awa' = thither
Haud awa' hame = come away home
Trow = believe

Authorship

• by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796), "Wandering Willie" [author's text checked 1 time 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 (Franz) Joseph Haydn (1732 - 1809), "Here awa there awa", Hob. XXXIa:257bis, JHW XXXII/4 no. 293, stanzas 1,3-4 [sung text checked 1 time]

Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:

• Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Wilhelm Christoph Leonhard Gerhard (1780 - 1858) , "Der wandernde Willie" ; composed by Heinrich Esser, Heinrich August Marschner.
  • Go to the text.
    

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

• CZE Czech (Čeština) (Josef Václav Sládek) , "Willie ve světě"
• FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , copyright © 2014, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Ferdinando Albeggiani

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 136

Svět kříž a křížem prošels, můj Willie,
   teď, znaven poutí navrať se již,
pojď na má prsa, nejdražší ze všech,
   rci, že's mi domů vrátil se týž.

Zimní dul vítr, když jsi se loučil,
   svět celý slzami byl mi jak v tmě,
teď vítáno léto a vítán bud, Willie,
   přírodě léto a, Willie můj, mně!

Divoké bouře, spěte v své sluji,
   milenky srdce jak děsí váš hlas!
zbuďte se, vánky, zticha, vy vlny,
   přineste v náruč mi drahého zas.

Nevěren však-li zapomněl na mne,
   pak, větře, jen mořem na věky duj,
ať už ho nespatřím; však nevěřím tomu,
   a mrouc ještě myslím, že Willie je můj.