human
And the harp of Suomi's people Cannot really give us pleasure, Lulls us not to sleep when weary, Nor to rest does it incline us. Cast it forth upon the waters, Sink it down beneath the billows, Send it back to where it came from, And the instrument deliver 330 To the hands of those who made it, To the fingers which constructed.
gpt
No, I will not sink in water, Nor will rest beneath the billows, But will play for a musician, Play for him who toiled to make me.