Ma kõnnin hallil lõpmata teel
kesk nurmi, täis valmivat vilja,
ma kõnnin ja kõnnin otsata teel,
ju lapsena teesid armastas meel -
teed laulavad õhtu hilja.
Need teed, kuis on nad nii kõvad kui keed,
need otsata kutsuvad jooned, -
ma kõnnin ja kõnnin, teed kõvad kui keed,
nii hallid ja tolmused kõik need teed,
need rändaja eluhooned.
Ju lapsena teesid armastas meel,
ju lapsena kuulda tee juttu -
ju lapsena kõndi armastas meel,
oma laulu nii laulda hallil teel,
kui polekski ilmas ruttu.
Tund hiline nüüd, laulab lõpmata -
meel igatseb tolmuta randa,
tund hiline, tee on kõva kui kee,
mind hoiab kui mõrsjaks enesele -
ei siiski saa pärale kanda.
Ma kõnnin hallil lõpmata teel
kesk nurmi, täis valmivat vilja,
ma kõnnin ja kõnnin otsata teel,
kui teede laul, tee helisev meel,
ja kõik on õhtu nii hilja.
Treading an endless grey road
between the fields of ripening grain,
treading and treading on an endless road,
I was drawn to roads early on -
roads that sing late at night.
How hard these roads are, they are like chains,
these endless inviting lines -
treading and treading, these roads hard as chains,
so grey and dusty, all these roads,
the living quarters of a rover.
Early on my mind was drawn to roads,
early to listen to the roads speak,
early my mind was drawn to tread,
to sing my own song on a grey road,
as if there's no hurry.
The late hour sings endlessly -
my mind's longing for a shore without dust,
the late hour, the road hard as a chain
keeps me as a bride for itself -
but it cannot take me there.
Treading an endless grey road
between the fields of ripening crops,
treading and treading on an endless road;
the song of roads, the ring of roads
and everything is so late at night.
Translated by Airi Looman, edited by Les Wilson
