Up I shall stand and go
To the lake of Innisfree
Kellswater and Scarborough fair
Blackwaterside and Islay
If there was a place for me
I had not found it yet
And every step I took, I found
It easy to forget
Let me follow the footpath
To a crooked old oak tree
Where carriage weighted to the west
Stands a-waiting for me
Farewell to thee, bonny Dun Holm
I’ll see thy waters again
Born in the north, buried there I will be
When back I traverse my terrain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem