He happened to be born
completely innocent,
To this cold and northern land,
Where his forefathers already,
drunk, of course,
beat up their wives and children, if they could catch them.
That boy wanted to avoid
The traditional fate of a man
"I'll never buy me an axe,
and I'll never drink booz...
otherwise I'll drink the house away."
The snowbanks call to the family in the winter,
but I never want to do the way daddy did,
but when you can't get work from the bureau
the hand of fate him pours a glass.
Thus Tommi of Turmiola is resurrected,
and the manners of masters are caught by the servants;
Gallop, towards the wineshop.
It drives a man to despair,
when frost harvest the fields,
from beneath the cold earth
a cold eyes is staring;
When the axe rises up...
From midst the barrows,
from the earth of the land,
fathers look proudy upon their sons;
unemployment, booze, the axe and the family,
the snow bank, police and the final mistake.
This land of a thousand melancholy songs
that runs into a thousand lakes,
A junipery fold, whose amount of self-pity
can't be measured by reason and can't be set by Kärki,
in whose songs drown the winning cards of life,
and in which the gates of Heaven are closed:
they tell about Einari Despair.