These are the greetings for those under the bridges,
Among them are Jarkka, and Kalle Nieminen.
With a glow of zeal they went out to the world
As the sky was the roof for a man in adventure.
Both of them have drank for years already,
And made of themselves real men of the shores,*
Or perhaps they already have united with the soil
A small piece of heaven for the unhappy one.
If Helsinki has grace for an instant,
when the land is all white,
soon it's raining sleet again
If Helsinki has grace for an instant,
it's all just a dream,
a dream of no use.
So alone I visit the old locals now,
As the smudged walls gnaw the soul,
And burger's circled by this unnatural plastic
And Liisa at the butchers' is not young.