Lapland summer

In Lapland everything flowers quickly
Land, grass, barley, even dwarven birch
This, I have often felt heavily
While looking at the phases of our people

Why does everything beautiful wish to die here
And the great wither into the sordid
Why do we have so many madmen
Why so few players of the kantele

Why do men fall here, at every turn
Like grass, hopeful men indeed
Men of thoughts, men of emotion, all turn to earth
Or sever in the midst of their chores
Elsewhere the gray-haired beam with fire
The sun of spirit glows in the elderly
With us babes are born as old men
And a young man is already for the grave

And myself, why do I ponder these things?
It is a sign of early old age
Why don't I follow the call of blood, instinct
But sigh over the destinies of nations

There's but one answer, the summer of Lapland
Thinking of it, the mind grows gloomy
In Lapland birdsong, amusement is short
And the bloom of flowers, and other joy

But only the reign of winter is long
For a moment ideas rest here, as if in mid-flight
When they beging again their sunny trek
And leave behind a frozen Lapland

Oh whitebirds, guests of Lapland's summer
Great notions, I greet you
Oh, stay here, to make your nests
Even if you'll move to southern lands

Oh learn from the swans
They leave in autumn, return in spring
It's calm on our shores
And safe is the side of the fell

Fly through the air, with wuthering flutter
Create deeds, illuminate lands
But when you see winter has left here
I beg you, I ask, please return