Song Of The Sage

No man nor a god, with a sword he carved

With a feather he conjured

An instrument from the bone of fish

A kantele from the jaws of a pike

Sat on a golden rock, on a bank of a golden river

By the brink of golden falls, under the golden sun



The birds flew to the singer

The wildfowl from the open sea



The fingers plucked the brightest chord

Tolled the fangs of a pike

The colours of rainbow lighted

Above the silent waters



Came forth the woodland creatures, the spirits great and small

The mistress and the master of Tapiola, forest folk



Behind a cloud of blue, the moon wove the strands of silver

On the edge of the cloud of red, the daylight gilded the cloth



The small fish in the shallows, the big ones under the surface

The king of waters, on the waves, the queen on an open sea



From distant fens came the swans

An eagle from its heaven high



Each one comprehended and understood

Each one shed a tear, they wept and cried



Each and every tear, tears of everyone

All joined to flow into the silent waters

The golden stream of life carried the tears to the sea

To oceans' deep keeps the pearls were concealed.