The stars are far brighter Than gems without measure, The moon is far whiter Than silver in treasure; The fire is more shining On hearth in the gloaming Than gold won by mining, So why go a-roaming? O! Tra-la-la-lally Come back to the Valley.

With hope or without hope we will follow the trail of our enemies. And woe to them, if we prove the swifter!

Still round the corner there may wait A new road or a secret gate And though I oft have passed them by A day will come at last when I Shall take the hidden paths that run West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

Voiceless it cries, Wingless flutters, Toothless bites, Mouthless mutters.

It [discovering Finnish] was like discovering a wine-cellar filled with bottles of amazing wine of a kind and flavour never tasted before. It quite intoxicated me.

The world was fair, the mountains tall In Elder Days before the fall.

Where there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together may perhaps find wisdom.