Hemlängtan [English translation]

I am tired, I am weary of the factory

I yearn for my soil shrouded nest,

for my cabin by Blodsten's mire,

amid the green hideaways' peace.

I would live on bread and water,

if I only soon could swap

all the gaslights and buzz for the night

where the hours silently pass.

I yearn for my home by Pajso valley,

for the grass-grown marsh of So,

where forests, in dark ivy,

stand in a ring around mossy moor,

where sedges grow in the mist

by springs that never dry up

and where the soil's plants weave

their silky roots.

I yearn for my home by Kango valley,

where the heather stands blazingly red

like a stubbornness in fiery flames

before fall's menacing death —

where butterflies, colorfully jovial

with floury wings hover

and heavy, singing bumblebees

in the lush earth dig.

I yearn for my home with the penniless people

who sweat in the summers' heat,

who awake in bitter nights

in their strife against cold and need. —

I yearn for where the clouds walk laboriously

under the sky where stars shine,

and where the wild's rapids sing

to the beat of my ditties.