The waves of the lake splash 
And pines hum 
The frost of the north hurts 
Finnish grief in signs
Woods bleak and stony, unlit
There my mind rests
There I will forget the pain
Stars and moon us bless
O my native land, stand proud, facing the future
You were never broken down, banished into the night
O my native land, stand proud, facing the future
You will never be broken down

Not weather can frighten us
Not to shrivel us winters
Not to [bad word] of the woods
Take our blood and life
Frothy rapids roar
And the hills high
Woods of pine and forests of birch
Over the wide rocks