Текст песни
Who say that music reckon that the kantele
Was fashioned by a god
Out of a great pike's shoulders
From a water-dog's hooked bones:
It was made from the grief
Moulded from sorrow
It's belly out of hard days
It's soundboard from endless woes
It's strings gathered from torments
And it's pegs from other ills
Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense
It's belly out of hard days
It's soundboard from endless woes
It's strings gathered from torments
And it's pegs from other ills
Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense
So it will not play, will not rejoice at all
Music will not play to please
Give off the right sort of joy
For it was fashioned from cares
Moulded from sorrow
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