You know how the one who stares at the ground gets lost.
And the path won't start to grow grass after it is made.
Steps are making a new path, even not knowing where is the road.
Thank you god in heaven, leading me astray.
Wind, catch her dress, lift her to her wings.
Carry her like a flower that belonged to the bygone summer.
I believe that love will carry this former autumn
on her bosom through darkness of the storm.
And tonight again we are born naturally high,
to be colors in the dark.
No, we do not know about tomorrow.
It is gratuitously waiting for us
sharpening it's lance.
How did I find you, how did we meet?
When a foreigner came towards, I climbed aboard a wagon.
(Original text: Syntymähumala by JP Leppäluoto)
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