Kirkkomuan Kansoo [English translation]

From a field raped by frost

From a meadow plowed by rocks

Echoes from a forest of spruces

Deep from inside of swamps

Comes from the places of fears

Rises from the depths

Sorrow mind, murderer

Cold, hazy mist

They're getting us one by one

To grave goes everyone

One folk of the church grounds

Sounds in the thick fog

Speaking the language of dead

Cursing the bad fortune

Cries, hating the living ones

Without sound appears

folk from the mist

Dead hands risen in the air

Folk of the church grounds