Hän ei kävele koskaan [English translation]

His face is sculpted out of marble

his stomach is made of ivory

And when I touch his neck

I don't think about anything else

His hands know how

to do unconditional good

His eyes are a swamp

deep, making you sink

He never walks

but his soul is rushing

like a wild Indian

on a glistening mountainside

He never walks

that's possible only in his dreams

But much more important

is everything else about him

His hair is a bunch of weaved rope

his back is made of silk-wood (?)

and when I caress his fronthead

I don't long for anything else

His lips are so true

and they whisper about tenderness

With him I have learned

the most wonderful (things) about a human

He never walks...

He runs without legs

He enjoys and rejoices

more than many of those

who really walk

He never walks...