An elderly person and a boy
On the still open sea
The sun and the nets are rising
The child is quiet and his fingers stiff from the cold
When the heavy
Words are breaking the stillness
Hear little boy, this is our trip
The bigger picture are for the others
Do you finally understand why I smile rarely?
It's not my fault to hear bad things in everything
Only my legacy
It's not my fault that the winds in the Eastern Finland
From Russia and against
The city is sleeping when a woman next to me whispers
"The road is open, use to travel"
Still it always feels like I'm a child on the lake
lost, little fingers stiff from the cold
Do you finally understand why I smile rarely?
Earth under the nails
On the lips the tast of Pielinen
The eastern frost will still come
The freazing weather of the North