Vaari [English translation]

When the evening comes, grandpa plays his mandoline.

I remember how daddy told that, in his lungs

he still carries fragments, memories from his youth.

Again he tries his silenced violin.

Points out that "they ordered me there",

otherwise he never talks about those years.

Slowly into sleep, he relaxes,

a child's heavy head in his lap.

Soon the boys wake up to the morning

and get to achieve all their dreams size of a football field.

When the evening gets colder he stirs up the fire,

after sauna he puts the children to sleep,

the adults continue they talk for a while more,

the cousin reads his book till dawn.

Night gets dark, peace of the cottage lingers,

and the smell of dad's pipe still floats in the air.