The Voices Of The Wind
I listen to the voices of the wind.
She speaks to me through the trees.
I do not understand her words. Squirrel, hare, red fox, you hear her too.
Do you understand what she tells us?
Is she laughing? Is she crying? Is she dancing?
I long for the day that I cal feel the true meaning of her words.
For now I just listen and listen and listen to the voices of the wind.
Blue sky, High mountain.
I climb, I climb, But the top is the top.
After the top, There is none.
Downhill all the way.
Why go up? Why come down?
When you reach the top, Continue climbing.
The river flows gracefully. A rock is dropped.
She is disturbed. The waves fade away.
The river flows gracefully.
Sitting in a bar at 09.20, just drinking coffee.
I am the only one, drinking coffee.
The 12 others are, drinking beer.
Finland at its best.