Sielulintu

The river of the dead is already taking him away
A sick man into forgetfulness
If only he could leave something behind
To give his son some comfort

The man carved a bird and gave his soul to it
Before he slept, he carried it to his son's pillow

For the father, Christmas was the last one
He carved it as a gift for his child
The soul bird, the soul bird
Its feathers were from the angels' wings

The boy is now a family man himself
They celebrate Christmas together
They hang a wooden bird on the tree
It brings the grandfather strongly into their hearts

The man carved a bird and gave his soul to it
Before he slept, he carried it to his son's pillow

For the father, Christmas was the last one
He carved it as a gift for his child
The soul bird, the soul bird
Its feathers were from the angels' wings

For the father, Christmas was the last one
He carved it as a gift for his child
The soul bird, the soul bird
Its feathers were from the angels' wings

The soul bird, the soul bird
Its feathers were from the angels' wings