Saaremaa valss [English translation]

There, birches smell like (on) a Saturday evening

when you press your blazing face into them,

and Sunday in your soul lets you believe

that cuckoos in a distance only cuckoo happiness

Ch. Oh, spin her, make her fly, that flaxen-haired maiden1

from whose eyes sparks so elvishly fly.

Nowhere in the world can you find a hayfield

like the ones of Saaremaa on a June night.

And in the dusk a bird-cherry as white as snow

is full of cheery nightingales for you

Why else would your lips and glowing face

seem so alike to an apple-blossom?

Ch.

Oh, dewy laps of grasslands of Saaremaa,

the meadow that rings due to songs in the silence of night!

The sky, luminous due to clouds, is above you

and the first allure of a passionate kiss.

Ch.

We are having a party on a hayfield, that is just like this,

where Twilight holds out her hand to Dawn.2

Everyone's thoughts and deeds have been joined

by this day full of chores and joys.

Ch. Oh, spin, coo some cunning story,

you, the youngish soldier with a golden star.

These nights are so light/white and pass quickly

that you cannot chase a flaxen-haired girl.

1. might be both vocative or the object2. Two lovers from Estonian artificial mythology (by Fr. R. Faehlmann) who can only meet once a year on St John's Night. Dawn is the boy.