In this age of pandemic we often turn to science for answers and clarity. But it often can be the arts that “fill in the blanks,” bringing joy into our lives and giving us a break from the tidal wave of news that can easily swamp us. This month Hearts in the Highlands has posted poems by Robert Burns, Robert Louis Stevenson, and Bob Dylan. Each is about the Highlands–not ours, but theirs. Perhaps reading how home has inspired, we too can come to appreciate our Highlands home which gives us some modicum of security and stability in these challenging times. If any of you are inspired to write your own poem or compose an essay about our Highlands, please share with one of the editors for possible posting in Hearts in the Highlands. The editors: Anne Cornell (AnneCornell@gmail.com), Peg Hambrick (peg.hambrick@gmail.com), Gary Miller (gem7@psu.edu), Eric White (erw2@psu.edu)
My Heart’s in the Highlands
by Robert BurnsMy 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.Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North,
The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth ;
Wherever I wander, wherever I rove,
The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.Farewell to the mountains, high-cover’d with snow,
Farewell to the straths and green vallies below;
Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods,
Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods.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.In the Highlands
by Robert Louis StevensonIn the highlands, in the country places,
Where the old plain men have rosy faces,
And the young fair maidens
Quiet eyes;
Where essential silence cheers and blesses,
And for ever in the hill-recesses
Her more lovely music
Broods and dies—O to mount again where erst I haunted;
Where the old red hills are bird-enchanted,
And the low green meadows
Bright with sward;
And when even dies, the million-tinted,
And the night has come, and planets glinted,
Lo, the valley hollow
Lamp-bestarr’d!O to dream, O to awake and wander
There, and with delight to take and render,
Through the trance of silence,
Quiet breath!
Lo! for there, among the flowers and grasses,
Only the mightier movement sounds and passes;
Only winds and rivers,
Life and death.Highlands
by Bob DylanWell my heart’s in The Highlands, gentle and fair
Honeysuckle blooming in the wildwood air
Bluebells blazing where the Aberdeen waters flow
Well my heart’s in The Highlands
I’m gonna go there when I feel good enough to go
Windows were shaking all night in my dreamsEverything was exactly the way that it seems
Woke up this mornin’ and I looked at the same old page
Same old rat race, life in the same old cage
I don’t want nothin’ from anyone, ain’t that much to take
Wouldn’t know the difference between a real blonde and a fake
Feel like a prisoner in a world of mystery
I wish someone’d come and push back the clock for meWell my heart’s in The Highlands wherever I roam
That’s where I’ll be when I get called home
The wind it whispers to the buckeye trees of rhyme
Well, my heart’s in The Highlands
I can only get there one step at a time
I’m listening to Neil Young, I gotta turn up the sound
Someone’s always yellin’ “Turn it down”
Feel like I’m driftin’, driftin’ from scene to scene
I’m wonderin’ what in the devil could it all possibly meanInsanity is smashin’ up against my soul
You could say I was on anything but a roll
If I had a conscience, well I just might blow my top
What would I do with it anyway, maybe take it to the pawn shop?
My heart’s in The Highlands at the break of dawn
By the beautiful lake of the Black Swan
Big white clouds like chariots that swing down low
Well my heart’s in The Highlands, only place left to goI’m in Boston town in some restaurant
I got no idea what I want
Or maybe I do but I’m just really not sure
Waitress comes over, nobody in the place but me and her
Well it must be a holiday, there’s nobody around
She studies me closely as I sit down
She got a pretty face and long white shiny legsI said “Tell me what I want”
She say “You probably want hard boiled eggs”
I said “That’s right, bring me some”
She says “We ain’t got any, you picked the wrong time to come”
Then she says “I know you’re an artist, draw a picture of me”
I said “I would if I could but
I don’t do sketches from memory”
Well she’s there, she says “I’m right here in front of you
Or haven’t you looked?”I say “All right, I know but I don’t have my drawin’ book”
She gives me a napkin, she say “You can do it on that”
I say “Yes I could but I don’t know where my pencil is at”
She pulls one out from behind her ear
She says “Alright now go ahead draw me I’m stayin’ right here”
I make a few lines and I show it for her to see
Well she takes the napkin and throws it back and says
“That don’t look a thing like me”I said “Oh kind miss, it most certainly does”
She say “You must be joking”, I said “I wish I was”
She says “You don’t read women authors do ya?”
At least that’s what I think I hear her say
Well I say “How would you know, and what would it matter anyway?”
Well she says “Ya just don’t seem like ya do”
I said “You’re way wrong”
She says “Which ones have you read then?”, I say “Read Erica Jong”
She goes away for a minute, and I slide out, out of my chair
I step outside back to the busy street, but nobody’s goin’ anywhereWell my heart’s in The Highlands with the horses and hounds
Way up in the border country far from the towns
With the twang of the arrow and the snap of the bow
My heart’s in The Highlands, can’t see any other way to go
Every day is the same thing, out the door
Feel further away than ever before
Some things in life it just gets too late to learn
Well I’m lost somewhere, I must have made a few bad turnsI see people in the park, forgettin’ their troubles and woes
They’re drinkin’ and dancin’, wearin’ bright colored clothes
All the young men with the young women lookin’ so good
Well, I’d trade places with any of ’em, in a minute if I could
I’m crossin’ the street to get away from a mangy dog
Talkin’ to myself in a monologue
I think what I need might be a full-length leather coat
Somebody just asked me if I’m registered to voteThe sun is beginnin’ to shine on me
But it’s not like the sun that used to be
The party’s over and there’s less and less to say
I got new eyes, everything looks far away
Well my heart’s in The Highlands at the break of day
Over the hills and far away
There’s a way to get there, and I’ll figure it out somehow
Well I’m already there in my mind and that’s good enough for now