Luontoni Kopiklaani finnish lyrics

"This song tells a story about a very spiritual journey to a hiisi, a sacred place behind the forest on the top of a high hill. During the journey the traveller sees his surroundings through the eyes of a wolf, a deer and even a pike. At the beautiful hiisi there are three birches that connect our world with the underworld. The roots of the birches are in Tuonela, where we all will end up one day." (from Noita album's booklet)

Translated lyrics

My nature

The gates of the north are showing
The evil wickets shining
The decks glimmering in many colours
In my night, the light [comes] from fire
From fire [comes] the night above my head
From the head [comes] my family to an island
From under the family to under a pike

There are three birch trees in there
Four white dead pine trees
From under one I lift the cover of the sky
From under two the song of the morning
There are three birch trees in there
Four white dead pine trees
The third owns my whole family
The golden mind, my little feather

And the wolf doesn't run for worry
The pale gray from the back of the lands
It looks with stagnant eyes
With the sight of a blue sky
The lands of the brass bird of the lands
The roads of my golden cuckoo
The trees are passing over my head already
Making an arch on my deer tail
A white muzzle being my protection
A jackfish being my eye
Being the home of my hard life
The birth of my doom soul
The birth of my doom soul

There are three birch trees in there
Four white dead pine trees
From under one I lift the cover of the sky
From under two the song of the morning
There are three birch trees in there
Four white dead pine trees
The third owns my whole family
The golden mind, my little feather

There are three birch trees in there
Four white dead pine trees
From under one I lift the cover of the sky
From under two the song of the morning
There, a song from under the wind
The cold wind from a surge of my blood
Above the quiet waters
Only a dark song of wind is playing
There are three birch trees in there
Four white dead pine trees
From under one I lift the cover of the sky
From under two the song of the morning
There are three birch trees in there
Four white dead pine trees
The third owns my whole family
The golden mind, my little feather

My lands are falling behind me
My trees being trees of netherworld
Leaves of the crop are becoming yellow
The cottages are staying dark