My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
My heart’s in the Highlands a chasing the deer;
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
(Robert Burns, "My Heart’s in the Highlands").
The year that from Asia I had to depart,
I promised its image to keep in my heart,
To love and to value the place of my birth.
Although now I live in the land further north,
The Highlands of Asia have always been dear,
Time their image in my heart could not blear,
My memory of them remains bright and clear.
Although there have passed many a year,
My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here.
I dream of the mountains and neighbouring hills,
Far marked with the courses of clear, winding rills.
I dream of the forests and wild-hanging woods,
I dream of the torrents and loud-pouring floods.
In visions of Asia that in my dreams appear
I go to the hills and feel no fear
To climb the mountains till the snow peaks are near,
And there in the quiet my heartbeat I hear…
My heart’s in the Highlands, a chasing the deer.
And when in the morning I awake from my dreams,
I think of the murmuring mountain streams,
Of tall, ancient pines and of crimson-tipped flowers, -
I daydream away many long quiet hours.
I think of the mountains, high-covered with snow,
I think of the straths and green valleys below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow.
I think of the land where I lived long ago,
Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe.
I promise myself, that wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands forever I love.
And when from my dreams I come back to earth,
I find myself in the land further north,
Where mountains are few, and green hills are low,
Where spring brooks in the valleys quietly flow,
Where in forests young oaks and maple trees grow.
I love you, oh North, but I want you to know:
My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go.
Àïðåëü 2002 ã.