Raudsoonestik hargneb Ja elulätteks saab. Raudruun sünnitab küla Ja kaotab vahemaad. Poetrepil istub vanataat. Üks tüdruk mööda tõttab. Noor ema rinnalapsega Kusagile ruttab. Paar poissi asju ajavad Paljajalu ojavees. Saeraami õuel mehed Palgil, suitsud ees. Mis toimub kaugel ilmaveerel, Ei huvita üks põrm. Ei aima veel, et rauda mööda Hiilimas on surm. Elu tuiksoon juuniööl Mürgiastlaks sai. Ent raud ei olnud määraja, Kes viidi ja kes jäid. On kalmul ammu vanataat Ja üles võetud relsid. Vaid ojapõhjas endiselt Veenire tuhmilt helgib. [motheriron] The matrix of iron veins branches out, Becoming a spring of life. The iron gelding gives birth to a village And obliterates distances. On the steps of a shop, an old man sits. A girl hurries past. A young mother carrying a babe in arms Hastens on her way somewhere. Barefoot in ditchwater, A couple of boys busy themselves. In the yard of the sawmill Men sit on a girder, smoking. What happens in some far fringe of the world, No-one cares a dime about. No-one can foresee Death creeping on the rails. On a june night The life-vein became a poison sting. Yet it was not for the iron to say Who was to leave, who could stay. The old man is long in his grave, now, And the rails have been removed. Only a rivulet of water still dully gleams In the bottom of the ditch.