Kuolemanvakavaa [English translation]

There is no man, no woman

lost here

who could

change you

There is no song more beautiful

or a hymn more plain

beneath this sky

What do the works of one man weigh?

What do you gain from the world

when you knock a little boy off his feet

with your stone-hard fist?

Ripe corn on the verge of life

I chant quietly

a hymn deathly solemn

Who can

count these days?

They are, after all,

too many

The playing of too many a child

in the sandbox

means to separate sand from ice.