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
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
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