Työt ja päivät [English translation]

A storm was predicted, I was awake for the journey

Sat up high and wondered what to do

Seven in the morning, in no year

No day of the week, in no month

Grain rots on the fields as one reflects

Birds as dark shadows rise on autumn skies

And the corpse in the bed, still warm

But how many years, how many months

At night I hear the bells ring

In this empty house

I dream of a great healer

I wish you'd sleep

You tame four black birds in the bath

Ugly, helpless, devil's spawn

All this death precedes our deeds

Writes newer poetry, silently speaks our last words

Though it is spring, wind strips the trees

Its sound as lover's laughter among them

"You I only trusted so much to be disappointed"

Now I hold my tears until I shall choke

And the ground is light to tread, snow-white