Metals

Let's go, let's go, let's walk, let's walk,
    ee, kresla,
let's go down this road,
down this dotted path,
the land of berry stalks,
where slaves have walked,
slaves walked, oxen stamped,
sometimes orphans have gone,
sisters wandered late,
and poor man's farmhands.
What is left in the footsteps?
Gold is left in the footsteps.
Who was the fool to pick the gold?
I was the fool and picked the gold,
I set the gold grow, 
to hatch under the lid.
It grew for a month, grew for two,
and a few days more –
and from there grew a girl.

Let's go down that road,
the made road, a piece of land.
Where the Lord has walked before,
Mary-mother has come to the Earth.
The Lord has walked, the traces are left,
    the Lord has walked, the traces are left.
What's left on his traces
or in his footstep?
The gold is left on the trail,
silver has fallen in his step.
I clenched the gold in my hand,
I wrapped the silver in my sleeve.
I took it home to my brother,
    I took it home to my brother.
I put it on the glass table,
on the lid of the pewter jug.