Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense
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Who say that music reckon that the kantele
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Was fashioned by God
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Out of a great pike's shoulders
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From a water-dog's hooked bones:
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It was mouldered from sorrow
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It's belly out of hard days
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Its sound board from endless woes
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Its strings gathered from torments
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And it pegs from other ills
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Truly they lie, they talk utter nonsense
|
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So it will not play, will not rejoice at all
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Music will not play to please
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Give off the right sort of joy
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For it was fashioned from cares
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Mouldered from sorrow
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-----------------
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My Kantele (acoustic)
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| Amorphis |
