(In Finnish: villi)
I was tired with everything: 
streets that were too hard 
buildings you have to lock 
difficult people, small conflicts 
hopes, disappointments, all things small and pitiful 
and so I remembered that out there, somewhere 
there's a much bigger world 
without structure, without agreements 
that just keeps going on, like waves 
rising, waning, changing, flowing 
without opinion about what it's supposed to be 
without fear of being insufficient 
full in itself, without meaning as such 
big and without boundaries, just waiting for someone to meddle 
only motivated by will and despair
And so I left, leaving everything behind 
all responsibilities I'd taken 
all people I loved or hated 
all dreams, big and small 
all compliments, things achieved 
and took the path to where water flows from 
to upper reaches, to roots, to the origin of everything 
to the shades, the highlands, dry plateaux 
and the clear, oligotrophic lakes there 
whose surface ripples in the harsh wind 
and the chasms in the lake basin fall into eternal oblivion 
to the forests on the high hills, to chilly gorges 
into small, wet cavities 
to boundless plains, whipped by rain 
to blazing rock fields, to the tops of mountains
It wasn't easy to get there 
it wasn't easy to go past the last house 
not easy to let the last road go 
not any easier to leave the paths 
worse to be on food you must find 
hardest to throw away the map 
it was far, untouched, the last one 
forgotten, void of meaning, empty 
and I took my place there, in my dreams 
that were as empty and wild as my surroundings 
as much without meaning, as useless 
my big, wonderful dreams 
in the big circulation of a magnificent world 
that benignly forgot all about me 
the small one, until my death 
and only left behind some remnants of me 
to the people who later came to overtake the wild