The lyrics of
Tonttu are based on Valter Juva's 1906 Finnish translation of Viktor Rydberg's 1881 Swedish-language poem called Tomte. A
tomte or
tonttu is nowadays primarily understood to mean one of Santa's elves, but originally referred to a supernatural guardian spirit from Nordic mythology who appeared as a diminutive and benign old man inhabiting individual lots and buildings. Although this poem's ancient concept of a
tonttu predates (and is tangentially a partial source of!) the modern concept of Santa Claus and his elves, the setting of the poem by composer Lyyli Wartiovaara-Kallioniemi in the 1940s has since come to have strong connotations with Christmas. (
note thanks to yoarastrophe@lyricstranslate)
It's a frosty night, and as though aflame, the northern sky is lit up
The folk of a silent farmhouse are getting their midnight slumber
Silently the moon goes on its way; the trees are white with snow
The rooftops are covered with snow, yet still the elf cannot sleep
He comes from the barn and stops in the snow, a gray figure by the doorframe
As is his old habit, he squints up towards the sky and the moon
He then looks towards the forest, where pinewoods shelter the farmhouse from wind
And turns around in his mind his eternal problem
Caressing his beard he ponders, shakes his head and his hair
"No, I cannot understand this. No, this is quite the problem indeed!"
Reasonable as he is, he casts off these troubles of the mind again
And sets off to do his task and his work, to do his chores in the night
He inspects the granaries and storehouses, pulls on their locks to test them
The cows, bound to their shackles as they are, dream of groves
The gelding dreams as well, of when reins and lashes do not strike his back
While napping against the wall and chewing hay in his corral
The elf makes his way to the sheep in their stall, where they are lying down
The chickens watch him from their rungs; on the highest one sits the rooster
The watchdog is doing well in its kennel; it wakes up and wags its tail affectionately
The guardian of the house is already very familiar indeed with the gray-coated elf
The old man sneaks inside the farmhouse where the family resides
The elf has known these folk to venerate him since a very long time ago
He tiptoes to the children to see a glimpse of the little darlings
After all, who could blame him? They are a source of great joy to him
He has witnessed generations of fathers and sons
Slumbering here, but from whence did the path of the innocent ones lead here?
Generations upon generations have grown up, grown old, and left - but gone where?
This is the problem for which he is once more burning for answers
He makes his way to the barn attic, which is where he has made his home
On his stack of hay close to the eaves, he is the neighbor to a swallow
Even though the swallow is gone now, the scent of hackberries in the spring
Will surely bring it back, accompanied by its beloved spouse
The swallow will then sing of many memories from its travels
Though certainly the swallow is not familiar with the problem that troubles the elf's mind
The moon shines in from a crack in the wall and casts its light upon the elf's beard
His beard moves and flutters in the draught as he ponders his problem
The forest is silent under a layer of ice; all living things are at rest
The rapids alone still foam away, humming from beyond the forest
The elf, half asleep, imagines himself traversing the stream of time
He ponders where it leads to, where its source might be
It's a frosty night, and as though aflame, the northern sky is lit up
The folk of the silent farmhouse slumber till the morn
Silently the moon begins to set; the trees are white with snow
The rooftops are covered with snow, yet still the elf cannot sleep
