To Freedom: Concert Program

Special project of art and live music to humanize a region of recent conflicts
In this Section
Stout Choirs Present "To Freedom": Choral Music from Ukraine, Poland, and Estonia / Jerry Hui

Saturday, Dec. 3, 7:00pm
Our Savior’s Lutheran Church (910 E 9th St)

Dr. Jerry Hui, Director
Michaela Gifford, Keyboard


* Symphonic Singers
† Chamber Choir
‡ Schola Cantorum of Eau Claire
♦ Menomonie Middle School Treble Singers
◊ Ganna Ensemble

Maxsim Berezovsky (1745-1777) — I Will Take This Cup of Salvation *
Mykola Leontovych (1877-1921) — Щедрик (Shchedryk; Bountiful Evening) *◊♦
Trad. Polish, arr. Hui — Hej sokoły (Hey Falcons) *
Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849) — Śpiew z mogiły (Hymn from the Grave) *
Dmitri Bortniansky (1751-1825) — Heruvimskaya pesn' *

Maria Kõrvits (b.1987) — Akvarell III (Watercolor III) † 
Veljo Tormis (1930-2017) — Raua Needmine (Curse Upon Iron) †

Trad. Ukrainian, arr. Pikkardiyska Tertsiya — Пливе кача (Plyve Kacha; Hey Duckling) †◊
Trad. Ukrainian, arr. Pamela Ruiter-Feenstra — Kyrie Eleison †*

Mikolaj Zielenski (1575?-1625?) — Vox in Rama (A Voice In Rama) ‡
Erkki-Sven Tüür (b.1959) — Ukrainale (To Ukraine) †‡
Pärt Uusberg (b.1986) — Kodutee (Journey Home) †

Tormis — Laulusild (Bridge of Song) †*◊


From Our Partners

The arts offer a means to expand our understanding of the nature and character of conflict through the application of a different lens, and, crucially, a means to understand society’s changing attitudes to war and peace. We’re excited and proud to have played a role alongside our Estonian and Polish friends in celebrating the unique artistic and living cultures of our respective heritages in To Freedom. Your rich University setting contributes substantially to wide audience participation affording valuable conversations between thought-provoking objects and music. Really great art really engages and regenerates the perception of reality. - Kathy Nalywajko, President, Ukrainian Institute of America

The Estonian Consulate in New York is delighted to collaborate with the University of Wisconsin-Stout on a project which sheds light on the powerful role culture plays in fighting for democratic values and connecting people from different walks of life. It’s not every day we get to work with so passionate a professor as Dr. Jerry Hui who initiated 'To Freedom' and has been leading the project so wonderfully. If even just a fragment from a melody from an Ukrainian song, a visual from an Estonian artist’s painting, or a single word from the Polish language would stay lingering in a student’s mind, this could be a stepping stone to a much more in depth inquiry into the role of culture as a tool for transformation.

Since its foundation, the Polish Cultural Institute New York (PCINY) worked with various universities and we always value working with academics and educators because public education and especially educating young generation is the main purpose of cultural diplomacy. We hope that through To Freedom project, the students at UW-Stout as well as residents of the greater Eau Claire-Menomonie, will learn about and relate to Ukrainian cultural heritage and its universal democratic values embraced and emphasized by Polish and Estonian cultures. We anticipate that the project participants will connect with the broader humanitarian and reconciliatory message that the work of Monika Weiss contributes to this project.

Program Notes

The Information Age makes it easy for us to learn of the news quickly, but often with flattened context, glossing over the actual people who are affected. Their livelihood, emotions, and suffering are subsumed in statistics, graphs, and sound bites. As artists and musicians, we have the means and the duty to express what’s left out, and in doing so, open the door for more people to ponder the issues at hand.

This concert, part of the comprehensive project To Freedom, focuses on Ukraine as well as neighboring Poland and Estonia. All three countries have had their long history to seek their cultural identities and their freedom. Through our music selection, we seek not to dwell on the misery caused by the Russian invasion in Ukraine, but to humanize those who live in the region.

We begin this concert with music depicting daily lives (I Will Take the Cup of Salvation; Shchedryk) and how they are devastated quickly by wars (Hej sokoły; Śpiew z mogiły). The beauty of nature (Akvarell) is taken over by terror and violence (Raua Needmine). We grieve privately (Plyve Kacha; Vox in Rama) and collectively (Kyrie eleison; Kodutee), and forcefully condemn the war (Ukrainale). In parting, we offer hope as we wish for a world built in human connection (Laulusild).  – Jerry Hui, Director of Choral Activities, UW-Stout

Text and Translation

I Will Take the Cup of Salvation

Maxsim Berezovsky (1745-1777)

I will take the cup of salvation: and call upon the name of the Lord.

Щедрик (Shchedryk; Bountiful Evening)

Mykola Leontovych (1877-1921)
Sung in Ukrainian

Ще́дрик, щедри́к, ще́дрівочка,
При́летіла ла́стівочка,
Ста́ла собі́ ще́бетати,
Го́сподаря ви́кликати:
«Ви́йди, вийди́, го́сподарю,
По́дивися на кошару́ —
Там овечки́ покотили́сь,
А ягнички́ народили́сь.
В те́бе това́р весь хороши́й,
Бу́деш мати́ мі́рку гроше́й,
В те́бе това́р весь хороши́й,
Бу́деш мати́ мі́рку гроше́й,
Хоч не гроші́, то полова́,
В те́бе жінка́ чорноброва́.»
Ще́дрик, щедри́к, ще́дрівочка,
При́летіла ла́стівочка.
Bountiful evening, bountiful evening, a New Year's carol;
A little swallow flew into the household
and started to twitter,
to summon the master:
"Come out, come out, O master,
look at the sheep pen,
there the ewes have given birth
and the lambkins have been born
Your goods [livestock] are great,
you will have a lot of money, by selling them.
Your goods [livestock] are great,
you will have a lot of money, by selling them.
If not money, then chaff from all the grain you will harvest
you have a dark-eyebrowed beautiful wife."
Bountiful evening, bountiful evening, a New Year's carol,
A little swallow flew.

Hej sokoły (Hey Falcons)

Traditional Polish, arr. Jerry Hui
Sung in Polish

Hej, tam gdzieś z nad czarnej wody
Siada na koń kozak młody.
Czule żegna się z dziewczyną,
Jeszcze czulej z Ukrainą.

Hej, hej, hej sokoły!
Omijajcie góry, lasy, doły.
Dzwoń, dzwoń, dzwoń dzwoneczku,
Mój stepowy skowroneczku

Lo, there, somewhere near black waters
A young cossack mounts his horse.
Sadly he parts with his girl,
But even more sadly with Ukraine.

Hey, hey, hey falcons!
Fly past the mountains, forests and valleys.
Ring, ring, ring little bell.
My little steppe skylark

Wiele dziewcząt jest na świecie,
Lecz najwięcej w Ukrainie.
Tam me serce pozostało,
Przy kochanej mej dziewczynie.
There are many girls in the world,
But most of them are in Ukraine.
There, I left my heart
With my beloved girl.
Żal, żal, za dziewczyną,
Za zieloną Ukrainą,
Żal, żal, serce płacze,
Już jej więcej nie zobaczę.
Sorrow, sorrow, for that girl,
And for green Ukraine;
Sorrow, sorrow, heart is stricken,
I'll never see her again.
Wina, wina, wina dajcie!
A jak umrę pochowajcie
Na zielonej Ukrainie
Przy kochanej mej dziewczynie
Wine, wine, give me wine!
And when I die bury me
In green Ukraine,
By my dear girl.

Śpiew z mogiły (Hymn from the Grave)

Frédéric Chopin (1810-1849)
Sung in Polish

Leci liście z drzewa,
Co wyrosło wolne!
Znad mogiły śpiewa
Jakieś ptaszę polne.

Nie było, nie było,
Polsko, dobrze tobie!
W szystko, w szystko się prześniło,
A twe dzieci w grobie.

Popalone sioła,
Rozwalone miasta,
A w polu dokoła
Zawodzi niewiasta.

Wszyscy poszli z domu,
Wzięli z sobą kosy,
Robić nie ma komu,
W polu giną kłosy.

Kiedy pod Warszawą
Dziatwa się zbierała,
Zdało się, że z sławą
Wyjdzie Polska cała.

Bili zimę cała, 
Bili się przez lato, 
Lecz w jesieni zato
I dziatwy nie stało.

Skończyły się boje,
Ale pusta praca,
Bo w zagony swoje
Nikt z braci nie wraca.

Jednych ziemia gniecie,
A inni w niewoli,
A inni po świecie
Bez chaty i roli.

Ni pomocy z nieba,
Ani ludzkiej ręki,
Pusta leży gleba,
Darmo kwitną wdzięki.

O polska kraino, gdyby ci rodacy,
Co za ciebie giną wzięli się do pracy
I po garstce ziemi z ohczyzny zabrali,
Już by dłońmi swymi Polske usypali.

Lecz wybić się siłą
To dla nas już dziwy,
Bo zdrajców przybyło,
A lud zbyt poczciwy,

Leaves are falling off
Trees that once grew freely.
A little bird sings
On top of a grave.

Poland is in great sorrow.
It was all as a dream.
The land is draped in black,
Your children dead.

Burned hamlets,
Destroyed towns,
And a homeless woman
Cries in a field.

People have fled
and taken their scythes.
Crops shrivel and die,
With no one to harvest them.

Brave men gathered to defend
the walls of Warsaw
Poland began to rise
In glory and honor.

They fought through blizzard,
Through the summer heat.
Then came autumn, but there were
not enough young ones to continue.

The war is now over,
The struggle all in vain.
Many soldiers never came home
and the fields lay barren.

Some are buried;
Some rot in prison;
Some roam in exile,
without home or food

No help from heaven,
or human hands.
Unsown fields turn to waste,
Nature's gifts are nothing.

Oh Poland, If your sons,
That fought for your sake
had each taken a handful of soil
they could have built a new Poland.

But now, freedom through
force seems impossible,
Because traitors flourish and the
common people are too honest.

Heruvimskaya pesn' (Cherubic Hymn)

Dmitri Bortniansky (1751-1825)
Sung in Church Slavonic

Иже Херувимы тайно образующе,
и животворящей Тройцѣ трисвятую пѣснь припѣвающе.
Всякое нынѣ житейское отложимъ попеченіе.

Яко да Царя всѣх подымемъ,
Aнгельскими невидимо дори-носима чинми. Аллилуіa.

We, who mystically represent the Cherubim,
And chant the thrice-holy hymn to the Life-giving Trinity,
Let us set aside the cares of life

That we may receive the King of all,
Who comes invisibly escorted by the Divine Hosts. Alleluia.

Akvarell III (Watercolor III)

Maria Kõrvits (b.1987)
Text: Sirje Kadalipp; translated by Jerry Hui

Sung in Estonian

taevas ja meri on kaotanud eralduspiiri
rahnuparv koos virvendava peedeldusega
hõljumas taevamere taustal.
the sky and the ocean have lost their borders
a boulder with shimmering reflection
floating in the heaven-sea background.

Raua Needmine (Curse Upon Iron)

Veljo Tormis (1930-2017)
Text: Kalevala, August Annist, Paul-Eerik Rummo and Jaan Kaplinski; translated by Eero Vihman, adapted by Kristin Kuutma

Sung in Estonian and English

Ohoi sinda, rauda raiska,
rauda raiska, rähka kurja,

liha sööja, luu pureja,
vere süütuma valaja!
Kust said kurja, kange’eksi,
üleliia ülbe’eksi?

Hurjuh sinda, rauda raiska!
Tean ma sündi su sõgeda,
arvan algust su õela!

Ohoy villain! Wretched iron!
Wretched iron! Cursed bog ore!

You flesh-eater, Gnawer of bones,
You spiller of innocent blood!
Wicked, how did you get power?
Tell how you became so haughty!

Damn, you bastard! Wretched iron!
I know your birth, you purblind fool,
I know well your source, you evil!

Käisid kolme ilmaneitsit,
taeva tütarta tulista,
lüpsid maale rindasida,
soo pääle piimasida.
Üks see lüpsis musta piima,
sest sai rauda pehme’eda;
teine valgeta valasi,
sellest tehtud on teraksed;
kolmas see veripunasta,
sellest malmi ilma tulnud.

Once there walked three nature spirits,
Three fiery daughters of the sky.
They milked their swelling breast to earth,
They squeezed their milk onto the fens.
From the first maid spurted black iron,
This turned into soft wrought iron.
White milk squirted the second maid,
This was the source of tempered steel.
The third maid spouted blood-red milk,
This gave birth to bog iron ore.

Ohoi sinda, rauda raiska,
rauda raiska, rähka kurja!
Ei sa siis veel suuri olnud,
ei veel suuri, ei veel uhke,
kui sind soosa solguteldi,
vedelassa väntsuteldi.
Hurjuh sinda, rauda raiska!
Tean ma sündi su sõgeda,
arvan algust su õela!

Ohoy villain! Wretched iron!
Wretched iron! Cursed bog ore!
Then you were not high and mighty,
Not yet mighty, not yet haughty,
When you sloshed in swamps and marshes,
When in bogholes you were trampled.
Damn, you bastard! Wretched iron!
I know your birth, you purblind fool,
I know well your source, you evil!

Susi jooksis sooda mööda,
karu kõmberdas rabassa,
soo tõusis soe jalusta,
raba karu käpa alta.
Kasvid raudased orased,
soe jalgade jälile,
karu käppade kohale.
Ohoi rauda, laukalapsi,
rabarooste, pehme piima!
Kes su küll vihalle käskis,
kes pani pahalle tööle?

A wolf then ran across the fen,
A shambling bear walked in the moor.
And the swamp rose from the wolf tracks,
And the moor from under the bear’s paws.
And there sprouted iron seedlings
In traces of the wolf’s claws,
In the hollows of the bear tracks.
Ohoy, iron! Child of boghole!
Swamp’s red rust and gentle smooth milk!
Tell me, who made you so baleful!
Who decreed your works mischief?

(Surma sõitis sooda mööda,
taudi talveteeda mööda,
leidis soost terakse taime,
raua rooste lauka’alta.)

Death was riding through the marshes,
Plague was on a winter journey.
Seedling steel it found in swampland,
Rusty iron in a boghole.

Nii kõneles suuri surma,
taudi tappaja tähendas:
mäe alla männikussa,
põllulla küla päralla,
talu aitade tagana:
siin saab surma sepipada,
siia ahju ma asetan,
siia tõstan lõõtsad laiad,
hakkan rauda keetamaie,
raua roostet lõõtsumaie,
rauda tampima tigedaks.
Rauda, vaene mees, värises,
jo värises, jo võbises,
kuulis kui tule nimeda,
tule kurja kutsumista.

The great dead then began to talk,
The killer plague then spoke and said;
In a pine grove on a hillside,
In a field behind the village,
Far beyond the farmers’ granges,
Right here will be the forge of death.
Here I’ll build the forge’s furnace,
Here I’ll place the widest bellows,
Here I’ll start to boil the iron,
Fan and blast the rust-red bog ore,
Hammer anger into iron.
Iron, poor man, shivered, trembled,
Shivered, trembled, shuddered, quavered,
When he heard fire being called by name,
Heard the plea for wicked fire.

Ohoi sinda, rauda raiska!
Ei sa siis veel suuri olnud,
ei veel suuri, ei veel uhke,
kui sa ääsilla ägasid,
vingusid vasara alla.
Taat see ahjulta ärises,
halliparda vommi päälta:

Rauda rasvana venikse,
ila kombel valgunekse,
veerdes alla ääsi’ilta,
voolates valutulesta.
Veel sa rauda pehmekene,
miska sind karastatakse,
terakseksi tehtanekse?
Toodi ussilta ilada,
musta maolta mürgikesta.
Ei see raud kuri olekski,
ilma usside ilata,
mao musta mürkideta.

Taat see ahjulta ärises,
halliparda vommi päälta:
Varja nüüd vägeva Looja,
kaitse kaunike Jumala,
et ei kaoks see mees koguni,
hoopistükkis ema lapsi
Looja loodusta elusta,
Jumala alustatusta.

Ohoy villain! Wretched iron!
Then you were not high and mighty,
Not yet mighty, not yet haughty,
When you moaned in the white-hot furnace,
Whined under beating hammers.
Scolded the old man from upon the oven,
The greybeard from the furnace roof:

Iron stretches, like blubber,
Spreads like saliva,
Oozing from the blazing furnace,
Flowing from the scorching fire.
Iron, you’re still soft and gentle.
How have you yet to be tempered
To make steel from you?
Saliva was brought from a viper,
venom from a black snake!
For iron wouldn’t harbor evil
Without saliva from vipers,
Without venom from black snakes.

Scolded the old man from upon the oven,
They greybeard from the furnace roof:
Shelter us now, supreme Creator!
Keep us safe, God Almighty!
So that mankind would not perish,
Mother’s child vanish without trace
From life created by Creator,
Commenced by God.

(Uued ajad. Uued jumalad.
Kahurid, lennukid,
tankid, kuulipildujad.
Uus raud ja teras,
uhiuued targad,
täpsed, vägevad tapjad,
automaatsete sihtimisseadmetega
tuumalaengut kandvad,
tõrjerelvadele kättesaamatud raketid.
Noad, odad,
kirved, taprid, saablid,
lingud, tomahawkid, bumerangid,
ammud, nooled, kivid, kaikad,
küuned, hambad, liiv ja sool,
tuhk ja tõrv, napalm ja süsi.
Uus ja kõige kaasaegsem tehnika,
elektroonika viimane sõna,
valmis liikuma igasse punkti,
kõrvalekaldumatult sihti tabama,
peatama, rivist välja lööma,
võitlusvõimetuks tegema,
haavama, teadmata kaotama,
tapma, tapma, raua, terase,
kroomi, titaani, uraani, plutooniumi
ja paljude teiste elementidega.)

New eras. New gods.
And cannons and airplanes
And tanks, and machine guns.
New iron and steel.
Brand-new, intelligent,
Precise powerful killers,
Equipped with automated guiding devices,
Armed with nuclear warheads.
Missiles invulnerable to defensive rocketry.
Knives and spears,
Axes, halberds, sabres,
And slings and tomahawks and boomerangs,
Bows and arrows, rocks and warclubs,
And claws and teeth, sand and salt,
Dust and tar, napalm and coal.
Brand-new and up-to-date technology,
The ultimate word in electronics,
Ready to fly in any direction,
Stay undeflected on its course, hit the target,
Paralyse, and knock of action,
Wound, list missing,
And kill, kill with iron and steel,
With chromium, titanium, uranium, plutonium,
And with multitude of other elements.

Ohoi sinda, rauda kurja,
mõõka sõja sünnitaja,
rauda rähka, kulda kilpi,
sina teras, nurja tõugu!
Hurjuh sinda, rauda raiska,
Oleme ühesta soosta,
ühest seemnest me siginud,
sina maasta, mina maasta,
musta mulda me mõlemad,
ühe maa pääl me elame,
ühe maa sees kokku saame,
maad meil küllalt siis mõlemal.
Ohoy villain! Evil iron!
Blade of the sword, mother of war!
Boghole ore’s golden shield,
You, steel, of vile breed!
Damn you, bastard! Wretched Iron!
We are kinsmen, of the same breed,
Of the same seed we have sprouted,
You are earth-born, I am earth-born,
We are both black soil
For we both live on the same Earth
And in that earth we two will merge.
Then there will be land enough for both.

Plyve Kacha

Traditional Ukrainian, arr. Pikkardiyska Tertsiya
Sung in Ukrainian

Гей, пливе кача по Тисині,
Пливе кача по Тисині.
Мамко ж моя, не лай мені,
Мамко ж моя, не лай мені.
Oh, duckling floats on Tisyna
Duckling floats on Tisyna.
My mother, don’t scold me.
My mother, don’t scold me.
Гей, залаєш ми в злу годину,
Залаєш ми в злу годину.
Сам не знаю де погину,
Сам не знаю де погину.
Oh, if you will scold me at dark hour,
If you will scold me at dark hour.
I don't know where I'll die,
I don't know where I'll die.
Гей, погину я в чужім краю,
Погину я в чужім краю.
Хто ж ми буде брати яму?
Хто ж ми буде брати яму?
Oh, I'll die on foreign lands
I will die on foreign lands.
Who will prepare a grave for me?
Who will prepare a grave for me?
Гей, виберут ми чужі люди,
Виберут ми чужі люди.
Ци не жаль ти, мамко, буде?
Ци не жаль ти, мамко, буде?
Oh, strangers will prepare,
Strangers will prepare.
Won't you regret, mother?
Won't you regret, mother?
Гей, якби ж мені, синку, не жаль?
Якби ж мені, синку, не жаль?
Ти ж на моїм серцю лежав,
Ти ж на моїм серцю лежав.
Oh, my son, how could I not regret?
My son, how could I not regret?
You were laying on my heart,
You were laying on my heart.
Гей, пливе кача по Тисині,
Пливе кача по Тисині.
Oh, duckling floats on Tisyna
Duckling floats on Tisyna.

Kyrie Eleison

Traditional Ukrainian, arr. Pamela Ruiter-Feenstra
Sung in Latin

Kyrie eleison.
Christe eleison.

Dona nobis pacem.

Lord, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Grant us peace.

Vox in Rama (A voice is heard in Ramah)

Mikolaj Zielenski (1575?-1625?)
Sung in Latin

Vox in Rama audita est
ploratus et ululatus,
Rachel plorans filios suos,
Et noluit consolari, quia non sunt.
A voice is heard in Ramah
of weeping and lamentation.
Rachel is weeping for her children,
and will not be comforted because they are no more.

Ukrainale (For Ukraine)

Erkki-Sven Tüür (b.1959)

Го́ре тому́,
хто буду́є місто в крові,
хто засно́вує го́род на зло́чині! 

Бо́же, Україну храни́! 

Го́ре тим,
що зло добро́м звуть, а добро́ – злом; 
що з пітьми́ ро́блять світло,
а зі світла – пітьму́; 
що гірке́ ро́блять соло́дким,
а соло́дке гірки́м! 

Бо́ же, Україну храни́ ! 

Го́ре то́бі,
спусто́шнику, яко́го не спусто́шено! 
Зра́днику, з яки́ м по-зра́ дницькому не повели́ся! 

Коли́ скінчи́ ш пусто́шити,
то й тебе́ спусто́шать, 
і коли́ вто́мишся зра́джуати,
то й тебе́ зра́джувати бу́дуть. 

Го́споди, поми́луй нас!

Ми на те́бе упова́ємо. 
Будь нам раме́ном щора́нку,
на́шим ряту́нком у час скру́ти! 

Го́споди, поми́луй нас!

Woe to him,
Who builds a town with bloodshed
Who establishes a city by iniquity!

God, save Ukraine!

Woe to those,
Who call evil good and good evil
Who replaces darkness with light
And light with darkness;
Who replace bitter with sweet
And sweet with bitter!

God, save Ukraine!

Woe to you,
Destroyer, you who have not been destroyed!
Traitor, you who have not been betrayed!

When you have finished your work of destroying,
You will be destroyed;
And when you have completed your betrayal,
You will be betrayed.

Lord, be gracious to us.

For we wait for you,
Be our strength every morning,
And rescue us when trouble comes.

Lord, be gracious to us.

Kodutee (Journey Home)

Pärt Uusberg (b.1986)

Text: Kristjan Üksküla (b. 1987)

Laskub öö ja hingab paati,
Ümber avamere siid,
Lapsuke on sünnist saati
Näinud unenägusid.

Hälli ees on jäänud ema
Oma laulu magama,
Oma aega vananema,
Teda ei saa segada.

Isa seisab kaevu ääres,
Väsimusest rasked käed,
Ainult mõte liigub nii,
Et aega mõtelda ei jää.

Meenub kevad, kõige algus,
Suve lämbe vihmahoog,
Tuleb nagu vana sõber
Läbi tumma ajaloo.

Mõni tund ja tõuseb tuli,
Kirgas hommik tõstab käe,
Kunagine lapsepõli
Ujub üle taeva, näe!

Minu armsa pilgus paistab
Igavene kodutee,
Üle elu, üle aja,
Üle surma sildade.

Night falls and breathes into a boat,
Surrounded by a sea of silk,
A little baby has, since birth,
Been dreaming solemnly.

The mother by the cradle
Has fallen asleep singing,
Aging in time,
She cannot be interrupted.

The father stands by the well,
His hands weary from exhaustion,
Only his thoughts in such a way travel,
That no time is left for thought.

I remember the spring, the beginning,
And the sultry rainfall of summer,
Which arrived like an old friend,
Through the silent history.

Hours pass and there is light,
The bright morning waves her hand,
And look, distant childhood
Drifts away across the sky!

There, in the eyes of the one I love,
is the eternal path home,
Over life, over time,
Over the bridges of death.


Veljo Tormis (1930-2017)
Sung in Finnish and Estonian

Mielen minun tekevi,
aivoni ajattelevi
lähteäni laulamahan,
saa'ani sanalemahan,
sukuvirttä suoltamahan,
lajivirtta laulamahan.
Sanat suussani sulavat,
puhe'et putoelevat,
kielelleni kerkiävät,
hampahilleni hajoovat.

Veli kulta, veikkoseni,
kaunis kasvin kumppalini!
Lahe nyt kanssa laulamahan,
saa kera sanelemahan
yhtehen yhyttyamme,
kahta' alta käytyämme;
harvoin yhtehen yhymme,
saamme toinen toisihimme
nailla raukoilla rajoilla,
poloisilla Pohjan mailla.

Lyökämme käsi kätehen,
sormet sormien lomahan,
lauloaksemme hyvia,
parahia pannaksemme,
kuulla noien kultaisien,
tietà mielitehtoisien,
nuorisossa nousevassa,
kansassa kasuavassa.

(In Finnish)

I have a good mind
take into my head
to start off singing
begin reciting
reeling off a tale of kin
and singing a tale of kind.
The words unfreeze in my mouth
and the phrases are tumbling
upon my tongue they scramble
along my teeth they scatter.

Brother dear, little brother
fair one who grew up with me
start off now singing with me
begin reciting with me
since we have got together
since we have come from two ways!
We seldom get together
and meet each other
on these poor borders
the luckless lands of the North.

Let's strike hand to hand
fingers into finger-gaps
that we may sing some good things
set some of the best things forth
for those darling ones to hear
for those with a mind to know
among the youngsters rising
among the people growing.

Kui ma hakkan laulemaie,
alleaa, alleaa

Laulemaie, laskemaie,
alleaa, alleaa

(In Estonian)

When I start to sing,

To sing, to spin a yarn...