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OXFORD WORLD'S CLASSICS

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OXFORD WORLD'S CLASSICS

The Kalevala

AN EPIC POEM AFTER ORAL TRADITION BY

ELIAS LÖNNROT

Translated from the Finnish with an Introduction and Notes by

KEITH BOSLEY

and a Foreword by

ALBERT B. LORD

OXFORD WORLD'S CLASSICS

THE KALEVALA

THE KALEVALA is an epic poem published in its final form in 1849, though much of its material goes back to the first millennium of our era. It is based on Finnish oral poetry, some of the richest and best-documented in the world. It begins with an account of the Creation from broken eggs, and ends with a strange interpretation of the Virgin Birth; in between, a northern people's negotiation with its environment and the conduct of its affairs is set forth in a text that is by turns epic, lyrical, ritual, and magical. The poem's overall structure is the work of Elias Lönnrot, the most famous of the Finnish scholars who saw in their oral tradition an expression of national identity.

ELIAS LÖNNROT(1802-84) was both a scholar and a district health officer covering a wide area of north-eastern Finland. In 1835 he published the first edition of the Kalevala, and in 1840-1 the Kanteletar,

a companion volume of lyrics still almost unknown to the English-speaking world; in 1849 he published the second and final edition of the epic, nearly twice the length of its predecessor. In Finland, a province of Sweden from 1155 till 1809, when it became a Grand Duchy of Russia, he was hailed as a national figure, and the Kalevala as the national epic.

KEITH BOSLEY has published several collections of poems and a good deal of translations, mainly from French, Portuguese, German, and Finnish. Besides the Kalevala, his translations from Finnish include books of oral poetry, Eino Leino, Aleksis Kivi, a selection from the Kanteletar, and a historical anthology, Skating on the Sea. In 1991 he was made a Knight, First Class, of the Order of the White Rose of Finland.

ALBERT B. LORD worked with Milman Parry in the 1930s, revolutionizing Homeric scholarship in the light of their study of oral epic among the South Slavs. He was Arthur Kingsley Porter Professor of Slavic and Comparative Literature, Emeritus, in Harvard University.

CONTENTS

Foreword

Dedication

Finnish Pronunciation

Introduction

Select Bibliography

THE KALEVALA

1 In the Beginning

2 Felling and Sowing

3 The Singing Match

4 The Drowned Maid

5 The Mermaid

6 A Brother's Revenge

7 The Castaway

8 The Wound

9 Iron and Blood

10 Forging the Sampo

11 A Bond Made

12 A Bond Broken

13 The Demon's Elk

14 Elk, Horse, Swan

15 Resurrection

16 To Build a Boat

17 Inside the Giant

18 The Rivals

19 Vipers, Beasts, Pike

20 Slaughtering and Brewing

21 The Wedding

22 Laments

23 Instructions and a Warning

24 Departure

25 Homecoming

26 A Perilous Journey

27 Magic and Mayhem

28 Into Hiding

29 Conquests

30 Jack Frost

31 Feud and Serfdom

32 To Guard a Herd

33 The Broken Knife

34 Father and Mother

35 Brother and Sister

36 The Cowbone Whistle

37 The Golden Bride

38 Girl into Gull

39 Sailing to Northland

40 The Pike

41 The Pikebone Kantele

42 Stealing the Sampo

43 Battle at Sea

44 The Birch Kantele

45 Death's Daughter Gives Birth

46 The Bear

47 Fire from Heaven

48 Fishing for Fire

49 Moon and Sun

50 The Newborn King

Notes

Appendix: Sibelius and the Kalevala

FOREWORD

THE Finnish epic in English translation has been part of my consciousness of heroic poetry since my undergraduate and graduate days, and it has informed my teaching as well as my scholarly activities for some years. It draws one to revisit it frequently, because it has elements of subject and a general atmosphere that are not found in epic and romance as I know them in the European tradition from Homer through the eighteenth century. For the key to an understanding of the Kalevala is the power of the word, the power of incantation and of the story that brings power. Its heroes are word-masters and wonder-workers.

In the early 1950s I introduced the Kalevala into a course of Comparative Epic. The English translation of the Kalevala that I used for teaching at that time was W. F. Kirby's(1907). In the fifties there was little in English beyond Domenico Comparetti's The Traditional Poetry of the Finns(1892) to aid one in understanding how this strangely haunting epic from the North came into being. But that book, written by a classicist, was especially helpful for students of Homer, because it explained how Elias Lönnrot had not only collected but also assembled and shaped the great epic from its constituent shorter traditional songs.

In time in my course, Kirby's translation was superseded by that of Francis Peabody Magoun, Jr.(1963), who had been my teacher in Anglo-Saxon; it was during those years that he was working on his translation of the Kalevala. After Comparetti's book, Martti Haavio's Väinämöinen, Eternal Sage(1952), with its study in depth of several of the songs used for the composition of the Kalevala, was of very great help, for it also adduced comparative thematic material from all over the world and throughout time. With the appearance of Finnish Folk Poetry: Epic(1977), and now with Keith Bosley's new and exciting translation, the student and scholar, as well as the more general reader, have acquired the means for a rich perspective on the Kalevala.

In Matti Kuusi's introduction to Finnish Folk Poetry: Epic and Michael Branch's to the 1985 edition of the Kirby translation of the Kalevala, one reads of the stages through which Finnish folk poetry has gone from that of myth to that which it had assumed when Lönnrot shaped the epic finally in 1849. It is remarkable how well-documented this epic is, thanks to the vast efforts of collecting that have brought together so many variants of so many songs. Variants are indispensable for the investigation of how singers in an oral tradition of sung narrative learn and compose their songs, and the Kalevala, with the large collections made since Lönnrot's day, makes ideal material available to comparatists for such research. We are also fortunate in having the earlier forms of Lönnrot's epic, the Proto-Kalevala(manuscript 1833-4, published 1929) and the Old Kalevala(the first edition, 1835).

Elias Lönnrot collected the songs that he used, among others, in composing the Kalevala by writing them down from the dictation of singers of the epic. That is the hard way. Those who have done extensive collecting in the field in these days of sophisticated, lightweight, portable sound equipment may find the concept of collecting with pen and paper, and nothing more, primitive in the extreme. It has its disadvantages, of course. When the pause at the end of a line is lengthened in the process of dictating beyond the customary interval, the rhythm of sequences of ideas is interrupted, and the singer finds himself in an awkward position in respect to the tempo of composition. Moreover, the musical element is often absent, and the context is not exactly that of regular performance. Yet dictation permits a closer and more 'uncluttered' communing with the singer than does electronic recording. There is no strange apparatus to take the attention of both singer and collector, the former wondering what is going on and the latter wondering if the electric box is operating properly, whether there is enough current of the right kind, and so forth. There is no crowd of wondering onlookers to make the singer feel uncomfortable.

Elias Lönnrot simply sat down with his singer and wrote; there were no complications. I have seen such collecting 'events' many times in the thirties in Yugoslavia, and with the years I have come to appreciate their directness. Texts collected in that way may, indeed, be better, truer to the singer's regular performance, than texts obtained with video cameras and sound equipment under artificially staged circumstances.

Lönnrot, as any other collector thoroughly versed in his tradition and not a mere novice, had heard many singers, and did not need to reproduce the 'normal' performance every time that he wanted to collect a song text. At any rate, ordinarily when a singer is asked to dictate a

song he will have with him a few friends to listen to him and keep him company. They usually are the people who hear him whenever he sings, and he feels at ease with them. He is 'performing', therefore, to a small group that is not unlike his regular audience, so that the greatest lack that he may feel - and it is a real one, I admit - is the music and the rhythm afforded by the instrumental accompaniment and the singing. Our great collections from the past, from the Homeric poems to the medieval songs and epics, have very probably been set down in just this way. In the hands of a skilled scribe and/or collector such a performance has in the past produced great poetry. Prime examples are the Iliad and the Odyssey of Homer! Lönnrot knew his tradition, was constantly learning more and more about it as he wrote, and he knew the minds and the art of the Finnish singers. Keith Bosley has also penetrated into the singers' way of thinking and of expressing thought and feeling in the images, music, and rhythm of great poetry. All of that comes once more to life in his translation of the Kalevala.

Harvard University

December 1987

ALBERT B. LORD

DEDICATION

To Ben, Sebastian, Gabriel, my sons

big gentle brother to two little boys

your author dedicates another's lines

though this would not have taken by surprise

Lönnrot, our Finnish rhapsode who begins

and ends with those on whom a bard relies

to hold dear in a day beyond his knowing -

the youngsters rising and the people growing.

Do you remember Imatra, the town

built where the waters of a dozen lakes

slide off the granite table and tumble down

roaring to Russia till a man's hand takes

and turns them into power? Genius home-grown

blushed unseen till for all his people's sakes

one man took, turned it so that they would know

pressed between leaves, its colours still aglow

Kalevala. The people's heritage

is proved: again it comes before the world

as the last flower of a heroic age

when words meant more than iron, when they told

of holy origins, each word a gage

for what it named - the kind of truth unrolled

when Orpheus sang, till Homer came along

reporting blood and guts to prove him wrong.

Mallarmé, who said that, remains my guide:

poems are made of words, of phrases too

for bards who have no letters. I have tried

to show you how they sang, working anew

what they received - a mix to set beside

literature with its names and dates. And you?

Read, for your mix was made from two tongues' meeting

and any pudding's proof is in the eating.

FINNISH PRONUNCIATION

Spelling is almost entirely phonetic, so kantele has three syllables; a double vowel is long, a double consonant is lingered over - Kyl-lik-ki; accent is always on the first syllable; a and ä sound as the vowel in northern and southern English 'pat' respectively, so the first syllable of Aino rhymes with 'pie' and the first syllable of Väinämöinen with 'pay'; h is always sounded; j sounds as in 'hallelujah'; ö sounds as in German; u sounds as in 'put', so the first syllable of sauna rhymes with 'pow!'; y sounds as German ü.

INTRODUCTION

Romantic epic

Kalewala, taikka Wanhoja Karjalan Runoja Suomen kansan muinosista ajoista('The Kalevala, or old Karelian poems about ancient times of the Finnish people'): so reads the title-page of the first edition of the epic,

published in Helsinki in 1835. It was a work of literature based on the oral poetry of Karelia, the region that straddles the border of eastern Finland and north-western Russia; it was a compilation of heroic poetry edited to form a more or less continuous narrative by Elias Lönnrot(1802-84), a Finnish scholar and district health officer. Finland, a province of Sweden since the twelfth century, had been annexed in 1809 by Russia, which had made it an autonomous Grand Duchy; but it was beginning to think of itself as a nation in its own right. In his preface Lönnrot wrote of 'trying to set in some kind of order' poems about 'memorable ancestors', as the Greeks and the Icelanders had done. He was referring to Homer and the unknown thirteenth-century editor of the Elder Edda; but where the latter was little more than a compiler, as Lönnrot's Finnish predecessors had been, Homer had shaped some of his heritage into two monumental epics. Lönnrot's ambition was of this order, to present the Finnish nation and language as capable not only of poetry, but of epic. How far he succeeded in the eyes of his countrymen can be judged initially from the response of his colleagues, who placed material they had collected at his disposal: in 1840-1 he published the Kanteletar, a companion volume of lyrics and ballads, and in 1849 the second and final edition of the Kalevala, at 22,795 lines nearly twice the length of the first edition. The work became a rallying-flag for national aspirations, and is regarded as the 'national epic' by modern Finland, which celebrates Kalevala Day on 28 February, the date of Lönnrot's 1835 preface. How far he succeeded in the eyes of the world outside Finland can be judged from the fact that the epic has been translated into forty-seven languages; the present translation is one of five into English. Its status as one of the 'World's Classics' is enhanced by its informing presence in some of the greatest music of Sibelius, which is fully documented at the end of this book. The Kanteletar, though in many ways more representative of the tradition on which both works are based, has not had the same international success.

From a Western point of view the Kalevala is a double anachronism, an epic produced at a time when epic was regarded as a thing of the past, set in a world more archaic than that of Beowulf. To see the Kalevala as a work of European literature rather than an attractive curiosity, we need to adjust our sights. First, outside the mainstream of the Renaissance tradition, epic had a new lease of life thanks to Romanticism; second, in backwaters like Finland, oral tradition, long the Cinderella of Western culture, was still the major vehicle of talent. In other circumstances its unlettered bards and healers, with their prodigious memories, might have become leading figures in the arts and sciences.

Epic is about heroes making history, or what passes for history. The last heroes of Renaissance epic were Milton's Satan and Klopstock's Messiah: history had lost its nerve to pietism, and the large nations of Europe were settling down to the fruits of 'civilization'. But in this Age of Reason a new spirit was moving: Rousseau was singing the praises of the bon sauvage(after the 'noble savage' of seventeenth-century English fiction), and Herder, the future theorist of the Sturm und Drang('Storm and Stress') movement in Germany whose rising star was the young Goethe, was developing ideas of a world of nations defined by vernacular and by folk culture. He urged his disciples to refresh the muse at the pure spring of folk song: in Germany, and later in England, poets wrote the rough-hewn, 'artless' lyrics and ballads beloved of Lieder composers - what Schiller was to call naive(as against sentimentalische) Dichtung.

Among the models Herder proposed was Ossian, allegedly a third-century Gaelic epic bard, translated into English prose by James Macpherson. Dr Johnson had dismissed Macpherson's texts, published in the 1760s, as 'impudent forgeries'; but Scotland, still smarting after Culloden, had welcomed Ossian, while the response on the Continent had amounted to a craze. Modern research has shown that the texts are based on genuine material, but that Macpherson lacked the scholarship to do it justice. Such scholarship was, meanwhile, evolving on the other side of Europe, where the Finnish historian Henrik Gabriel Porthan and his students saw in Macpherson at least a kindred spirit.

Ossian marks the beginning of what might be called Romantic epic, though it was not always epic in form. In the wake of the French Revolution poets proclaimed ideals of universal brotherhood in epic fragments like L'Aveugle by Chénier, in which a group of shepherds rescues a blind wandering bard - originally Ossian, but Chénier changed him to Homer. The epic fragment gathered momentum, culminating with Victor Hugo, who used what he dubbed the petite épopée for La Légende des Siècles(1859-83); the type was to live on for another hundred years with the Canto general(1950) of Pablo Neruda. Conversely, Goethe's Hermann und Dorothea(1797) is epic in form but hardly so in character. For the large-scale 'poem including history' - Pound's famous definition in ABC of Reading(1934) - one must turn to nations that felt a need to explore their history. For these, Romanticism offered the freedom not so much of personal expression as of national self-determination. Zalán futása('The Flight of Zalán', 1825) by Vörösmarty the Hungarian and Pan Tadeusz('Master Thaddaeus', 1834) by Mickiewicz the Pole are two of many 'national' epics to appear, mainly in Eastern Europe; to these

might be added Mirèio('Mireille', 1859) by the Provençal poet Mistral, though the dedication to Lamartine by an author styling himself a païsan is hardly compelling.

Herder's ideas about national identity had their greatest impact among nations with little by way of recorded history or literature, small nations that for centuries had been mostly unlettered peasants under masters speaking another language. In such nations a rising educated minority was inspired to return to its roots, and apply its learning to the hitherto despised vernacular and folk culture. This meant going out and finding them, and from the Baltic to the Balkans there followed a collecting and 'correcting'(as Alecsandri the Rumanian put it) of folk poetry, concerned less with fidelity to sources than with validation of a national culture. The antiquarian interest that had prompted Bishop Percy to collect and publish his Reliques of Ancient English Poetry(1765-94) had become a political imperative. Among the host of collectors who ventured into the wilds of the Russian, Austro-Hungarian, and Ottoman empires, it was Lönnrot who made the double leap: from oral poetry to publication, and from publication to literature.

By the end of the nineteenth century the Kalevala had been translated into eight languages, including English - though John Martin Crawford's version(1888, the first in English) was made from Schiefner's German(1852). The latter also produced a curious offshoot in English: after reading Schiefner, the indefatigable Longfellow was moved to pen The Song of Hiawatha(1855), adapting metre, theme, and character to his purpose. Although the West was already aware of poetic stirrings in the northern forests from reports and samples in travel books(one such book had prompted Goethe to write his Finnisches Lied, a translation of a folk lyric), the Kalevala came as a revelation. In Finland its effect was immeasurably greater. At first, during the years that followed annexation, the Russian authorities welcomed Finnish nationalism as a way of severing links with Sweden, and the destruction by fire in 1827 of Turku, the old capital on the south-west coast, with its university, led to the founding a year later of Alexander's University(named after the Tsar) in Helsinki, the capital since 1812. Here the Finnish Literature Society was founded in 1831, and four years later it published the first edition of the Kalevala. The reading public was still more at home in Swedish, but the Finnish of its servants and tradesmen was clearly the language of the future. The Kanteletar appeared soon after, and in 1847 a cartoon portrayed Lönnrot with walking-stick and scroll hurrying barefoot across open country over a caption based on Ennius: Unus homo nobis cursando restituit rem('One man by running about is restoring to us our

state'). The misquotation acquires further point from the knowledge that Ennius, and Virgil after him, have cunctando 'by delaying'. Two years later came the definitive Kalevala: Finland had its 'poem including history', and was preparing to make history.

In any serious approach to the Kalevala, literary studies cannot ignore the oral tradition behind it. The text of a folk poem is no more than the record of a performance; if the collector has been trained in what has come to be known as the Finnish Method, there will be the name of the bard, his or her age, the place of performance, and the date. The text itself is called a variant, which implies an original; but the original may exist only in the mind of the collector, who knows of other texts similar enough to be fellow variants. Bards would draw on a repertoire often learned from a relative(since talent tends to run in families) which they would handle in their own way, rearranging set-pieces or 'formulas' of a phrase, a line, or several lines, leaving some material out, adding new. There was no problem of personal style: the ancient poetry which is now called Kalevala poetry has a single style transcending not only individual talent but even region and century. One is tempted by this to wonder whether some ancient poetry from oral sources - such as Homer - has not led scholars to infer a single author from a single style.

The present approach to the Kalevala will look first at the oral tradition and its background, then at how the epic was assembled, and at the Kalevala as a text. Finally, the present translation will be discussed.

The Finnish tradition

'The Fenni are remarkably brutish and appallingly wretched: no weapons, no horses, no dwellings; their food vegetation, their clothing skins, their bed the ground; their only hope is in arrows which, lacking iron, they sharpen with bone.' Tacitus' laconic description of a Stone-Age people in the final chapter of his Germania is the earliest surviving written reference to people living in Finland, which is named after them in most languages; but the Fenni were probably Lapps, not Finns. In the first century AD, when the Roman historian wrote, the Lapps were being partly assimilated, partly displaced by a more advanced people, the Finns. It was during the first millennium AD that the foundations of Kalevala poetry were laid in a society with animistic beliefs, whose shamans negotiated with an otherworld through magic.

Who are the Finns, speaking a language so different from those of their Russian and Scandinavian neighbours? Neighbours they have long been,

ethnically and culturally; but linguistically they are outside the Indo-European group, which ranges from Bengali to Gaelic. Their language group is Uralic, comprising Finno-Ugrian and Samoyed. Some five thousand years ago a group of tribes of non-Indo-European speech were living between the Volga and the Urals, whence the name. Most of the group migrated westward, and between three and two thousand years ago settled where their linguistic descendants now live. That is all that can be said with any certainty: the movement of language and culture is most often like wave motion, whereby a wave travels but the water merely goes up and down. Today, of roughly twenty million who speak a Uralic language, about two-thirds speak Hungarian; the rest speak up to twenty languages, of which the biggest are Mordvin(spoken south of Gorky, Russia) and Estonian with about a million speakers each, and Finnish, with not quite five million.

Some of the earliest references to Uralic-speakers are in Alfred the Great's ninth-century adaptation of a fifth-century Latin history of the world, whose lack of information about northern Europe he made good with travellers' tales. One such traveller was Ohthere, a Norwegian walrus-hunter, who sailed round the North Cape and the Kola Peninsula to the White Sea, then up the Northern Dvina where he met the prosperous 'Beormas'. The name is cognate with Old Norse Bjarmar'Permians', a Uralic-speaking people skilled in metalwork, but Ohthere's hosts were more probably North Karelians, also smiths; he reported to Alfred that they seemed to speak 'almost the same language' as the Uralic-speaking Lapps. He also mentioned the 'Terfinns', Lapps of Turja or Tyrjä, that is eastern Kola(there is a warning against them in canto 12 of the Kalevala) , and the 'Finns', that is Lapps, who did not get on with their Norwegian neighbours. Another of Alfred's travellers was Wulfstan, perhaps an Englishman, who reported on the alarming funeral customs of the Estonians.

The Finns themselves enter recorded history in 1155, when the Swedish King Eric the Good and the English-born Bishop Henry of Uppsala made Finland a province of Sweden. According to a folk poem Henry, the patron saint of Finland, came from Cabbageland - the English taste for the vegetable was already an international talking-point; and the modern Finnish writer Veijo Meri has observed that the first Finn known to history was a murderer, Lalli, the peasant responsible for Henry's martyrdom in 1156. In 1240 Alexander Nevsky turned the Swedes back from Russia, and much of Karelia has been Orthodox ever since, venerating Alexander as a saint. Here the clergy was more tolerant of the pagan oral tradition and it was here that Lönnrot found

most of his material. During the sixteenth century, the rest of Finland became Lutheran, and written Finnish was advanced by Bishop Mikael Agricola, whose translation of the New Testament appeared in 1548. In 1809 Finland became a Grand Duchy under the Tsar, but during the nineteenth century its growing sense of national identity - fed in no small measure by the Kalevala - led to increasing oppression, till in 1917 it declared itself independent of a Russia preoccupied with other things. During the Second World War Finland ceded to the USSR some of Finnish Karelia, whose population moved west, where their lively temperament and sense of oral tradition still set them off from their countrymen.

'I used to be reckoned a good singer before these here tunes came in': the old Suffolk labourer's celebrated grumble about commercial popular music could have been uttered centuries earlier by a Finnish bard on hearing the kind of folk song that entered Finland from Western Europe after the Middle Ages. There are examples in Lönnrot's preface to the Kanteletar and in any book containing Finnish folk songs. The Finns have a ballad, Velisurmaaja('The Brother-Slayer'), which has a parallel in Scotland('Edward, Edward', the inspiration of the first of Brahms's Ballads, op. 10), and the plants intertwining from the graves of Lord Thomas and Fair Eleanor also appear in the Hungarian ballad Kádár Kata('Kate Cooper'). But such songs, with their tuneful rhymed stanzas, have nothing to do with the starker music of the Kalevala tradition. This too shows international influence, albeit more ancient: Finnish bear-hunting ritual(recalled in canto 46 of the epic) shares a distant ancestor with the bear dances Bartók knew. As the Finnish scholar Kustaa Vilkuna remarked in 1974: 'No nation has its own culture, only its own barbarism.' In Finnish folk poetry we hear the influence of Baltic song and Russian storytelling(the bylina tradition), of Viking and early Christian cultures. This brings in the historical dimension, as another Finnish scholar, Matti Kuusi, has written(1977) of the problems of dating a folk poem:

A poem noted down in the eighteenth, nineteenth or twentieth century can be compared to the numerous strata of a burial mound in which many generations of men and their artefacts have been buried, although even this does not fully depict the magnitude of the scholar's task because the strata of a folk poem do not occur in a relatively clearly defined historical order - it is as if the burial mound had been disturbed by a bulldozer.

Of the various influences mentioned, the Baltic seems to have been the most radical, if - as is now thought - it reshaped the Finns'(and the Estonians') style of singing. The Indo-European-speaking Balts - Latvians,

Lithuanians, and the now extinct Old Prussians - have a form called the daina which strongly resembles what is now known as Kalevala metre. Of all Uralic-speakers only those in the Baltic region used this metre.

Kalevala metre seems to be basically a trochaic tetrameter measured quantitatively - that is, four feet each consisting of a long and a short syllable: Niin sanoopi Väinämöinen('Thus says Väinämöinen'). As in Classical prosody, accent - always on the first syllable in Finnish - does not feature, so there is often a tension between verse rhythm and speech rhythm entirely absent from Hiawatha metre, which replaces quantity with stress, the Germanic counterpart of accent; the daina is similarly quantitative. The foregoing description, it should be pointed out, is controversial; more will be said about metre when the translation is discussed.

Kalevala poetry was usually sung to tunes built on a pentachord(the first five notes of a scale) with an ambiguous third(between major and minor), corresponding to the five strings of the earliest kantele, a kind of zither which sometimes accompanied the singer. The rhythm varied, but narrative poetry was sung to tunes of five beats setting two or four lines:

That was the first appearance in print(1795) of such a tune. The text(in black-letter Finnish and roman Swedish) reads: 'There went a command from heaven'(twice) 'from all creation's Guardian'(twice) - the lines are not in the Kalevala, and the repetition is not typical. The grouping of lines into pairs suggests a caesura at the end of the first line of a pair. Perhaps the Homeric hexameter was originally such a pair of lines; whether it was or not, some editions of the Kalevala run pairs of lines together, though Lönnrot and his colleagues never did.

Kalevala poetry has neither rhyme nor stanza; its other formal features are alliteration and parallelism, often inverted into chiasmus. Alliteration is irregular and sometimes absent, but it often determines word choice, as in canto 46 of the epic when the bear's skull is set up to face east: east is itä, and the only part of the skull that alliterates with it is ikenet, the gums. Alliteration on a vowel requires the same vowel, unlike in Anglo-Saxon. Parallelism corresponds to the pairing of lines just mentioned, though this too varies: the sources often have odd lines, which suggests that they were spoken rather than sung. Lönnrot, however, always(with the solitary exception of 5:131-3, which is why the epic has an odd number of lines) thought in pairs of lines, even when they were not parallel. Such pairing recalls the description of performance in Porthan's seminal work De Poësi Fennica(1766-78): he describes two men, a lead singer and an assistant, singing antiphonally

as they 'sit either side by side or facing each other, close enough to lock hands and knees ... their bodies gently swaying ... their expressions thoughtful and serious' - we have a glimpse of this in the opening lines of the epic. When women sang, the lead singer would be accompanied by a group. Antiphonal singing was already in decline before Lönnrot's day, but solo singing survived long after in a few areas: the granddaughter of a man who sang for Lönnrot was still singing in 1942. In the Kalevala, Lönnrot sought to reconstruct the original setting.

As in other places where it has been possible to study a singing tradition, narrative poems were what the South Slavs called 'men's songs', the rest were 'women's songs'; this is the basis of Väinämöinen's taunt in the singing-match in canto 3, that the upstart Joukahainen sings only 'child's wisdom, woman's recall' which 'is for no bearded fellow'. But in Finland, as the tradition declined during the nineteenth century, women took over the songs which men no longer sang, giving rise to what Finnish scholars call 'lyrical epic' because the women would lace the stories with fragments of their own songs, adding a new warmth, or would tell stories of their own in epic style, giving ballad material an unforeseen gravity. The best example of 'lyrical epic' in the Kalevala is canto 4, whose source was a woman; we shall be looking at it and meeting her later. But why did the Finnish tradition decline and eventually die out?

All oral tradition thrives on want - of material progress, of education. The Marxist notion of culture produced only from an economic surplus(Brecht's 'grub first, then ethics') is soon dispelled by the knowledge that most Finnish bards lived in abject poverty; references in the Kalevala to gold and silver, to ownership of land and of serfs, are usually epic hyperbole. In Finland for centuries there was little opportunity for self-advancement: the tolerance mentioned earlier of Orthodox clergy amounted in the long term to indifference. Gifted individuals had nowhere to go, so they stayed at home, and developed their gifts as best they could. Gray's 'mute inglorious Milton' buried in Upton churchyard was a victim of English privilege, like Clare; but the Finnish bard lived at the back of beyond, and did not even speak the language of his rulers. Yet, in his own small world at least, he was respected: Arhippa Perttunen(1769-1840), an important source of the Kalevala, told Lönnrot that at singing-matches 'his village used to put him forward, and he did not remember ever being beaten'. An idea of the richness of the tradition can be had from the same bard's boyhood recollections of fishing-trips with the village men: 'They often sang all night hand in hand by the fire, and the same song was never sung

twice'(1835 preface).

Finnish folk poetry was first written down in the 1670s: ironically perhaps, the palm belongs to a variant about the murder of Bishop Henry, one of the most modern themes. The following century saw a trickle of collectors at work, which in the nineteenth became a flood. The main interest was in the older, Kalevala tradition, with its vast range of material all in the same metre. It included epic narratives, lyrics, rites, magic incantations, and lullabies and children's songs, some of which are still in use today. One poem might have up to two hundred variants scattered across the country. The richest areas were the Orthodox borderlands of Finland and Russia - Archangel Karelia towards the Arctic Circle, Olonets Karelia, Ladoga Karelia, and Ingria, stretching from the St Petersburg area westward along the south coast of the Gulf of Finland towards Estonia. A village in Archangel Karelia, some 375 miles north of St Petersburg, was the home of Arhippa, who sang 4,000 lines to Lönnrot, and of his son Blind Miihkali(1815-99) who was to continue the family tradition. Of a later generation still was the Ingrian bard Larin Paraske(1834-1904), who had an astonishing repertoire of more than 11,000 lines. She was a national celebrity when, in 1891, the young Sibelius heard her and was deeply affected: his first Kalevala setting, the Kullervo symphonic poem, was performed the following year. Of the material collected, about a million and a quarter lines were eventually published in Suomen Kansan Vanhat Runot('Old Poems of the Finnish People', 33 volumes, Helsinki, 1908-48), from which a selection with an English translation has been published as Finnish Folk Poetry: Epic(hereinafter FFPE); a selection of lyrics is projected. There is half as much again unpublished material in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society, and large collections in Russian Karelia and Estonia.

Lönnrot's 'old poems' led, as we have seen, to a cooperative effort among collectors. Though some of these complained that he had tampered with his source material, most educated Finns were so enthusiastic that, around the turn of the century, the identification of Karelia with the emerging Finnishness prompted a vogue for pilgrimages into the eastern wilds, where, with luck, one might meet a poetic backwoodsman and persuade him to sing. Karelianism, as the vogue was called, attracted a number of creative spirits including the protean 'national artist' Axel Gallén, who later finnicized his name to Akseli Gallen-Kallela, and his friend Jean Sibelius.

It will be clear by now that folklore has an importance in Finland it cannot claim in the West. A review of an English Baroque violinist in a Finnish newspaper a few years ago likened her playing to that of a folk

fiddler: this was intended as high praise. The American scholar Robert Redfield speaks of 'great' and 'little' traditions, meaning educated and folk traditions respectively. In most Western nations 'great' tradition has long been dominant, influencing 'little' tradition from above - a process known as seepage. In countries like Finland the situation is reversed: for centuries it had only 'little' tradition, which eventually influenced an emerging 'great' tradition from below - a process described by the English scholar Michael Branch as 'rising damp'. Before we see the beginning of this process in Finland with the Kalevala, we need to look at how the poetry of 'little' tradition was composed - and still is in some parts of the world.

A village might claim a 'singing family': though the Western world may still dream of noble savages composing in committee, oral epic was the preserve of a talented few. A bard's repertoire can be compared with what one uses to build a garden wall - bricks, mortar, and a length of string to guide the builder. The bricks are the 'formulas' mentioned earlier: they may be whole or half bricks, chunks of stone, pebbles, flints, shards. The mortar is the bard's powers of invention: here, where the bricks are regular, only a thin layer is needed; there more is needed, in which to set the awkward pieces. To guide the performance there is the 'thread' of the story to be told, the mood to be communicated, the rite to be celebrated, the spell to be recited. Underlying all this is the ability to do the job - a command of the métier, of the metre: anyone, even a politician, can improvise in prose, but only a bard can keep a poem alive.

The American scholar Milman Parry(1902-35) revolutionized Homeric studies by demonstrating the 'composition in performance' technique behind the Iliad and the Odyssey in the light of his research among the bards of Yugoslavia. His 'formulaic system', which accounts for 'swift-footed Achilles', 'rosy-fingered dawn', 'wine-dark sea', and much else in Homer, also accounts for 'steady old Väinämöinen', 'the sky all into windows', 'on the blue high seas', and much else in the Kalevala. Here are two passages describing a journey:

Both passages are built entirely of formulas, as are similar journey passages in cantos 6, 8, 12(twice), 24, 26, and 35(again). Birchwood runners appear in other contexts, as do swamps and lands, and the counting of days. Earlier in canto 35 a line corresponding with the fourth quoted above reads 'the road rolled, the sledge clattered'(104) - memorably set by Sibelius in Kullervo. There are hundreds of such formulas in the Kalevala; they enabled the bard to pace the narrative, here taking the strain, there free-wheeling. The lack of an anticipated

repetition could be used for dramatic effect, as when in canto 4 Aino tells in turn her father, her brother, and her sister why she is weeping: she has lost her trinkets in the forest. Then she tells her mother the real reason: an old man accosted her, and she tore them off to appear less attractive. We shall soon look in more detail at this episode, to see how Lönnrot turned folk poetry into literature.

'For the primitive, art is a means; for the decadent, it becomes an end', writes Pierre Reverdy (Le Livre de mon Bord, 1948). What was the function of this poetry by the time Lönnrot and his colleagues came to write it down? There were no more shamans to demonstrate their power over the otherworld, though some poems were still sung for good luck, and charms were still valued. Scholars believe that lyrics and ballads continued to be composed, but that the ancient epic narratives had long since established their main features and become feats of memory rather than acts of 'composition in performance'; the evidence for this is the similarity of variants many miles or generations apart. So when a bard performed, his listeners knew the story already: the interest lay in how he would do it this time - a sophisticated(or 'decadent') approach not unlike comparing interpretations of a piece of music. But this might be in a remote community of Archangel Karelia.

The shaping of the Kalevala

'Then it takes the usual course of the iron spell.... Then the wedding poems are to be sung, which you'll get from the women.' Such prose asides by a bard in mid-performance proved a breakthrough for Lönnrot, on his fourth field trip in September 1833. For the first time he saw how separate poems could be combined into an epic narrative. The following April he returned to the bard's parish of Vuokkiniemi in Archangel Karelia, whose biggest village, Uhtua, has since been renamed Kalevala by the Soviet authorities. Of eleven field trips Lönnrot made between 1828 and 1845, the fifth was the most momentous for the shaping of the Kalevala. In a fortnight he collected over 13,000 lines: literary epic was within his reach. He was not the first collector to visit Vuokkiniemi, but it owes its fame to him. What he called 'the best and richest home of poems'(1849 preface) is a good place to watch him at work: we shall see how three poems from there(FFPE 10, 104, 56) became cantos 3, 4, and most of canto 5 of the 1849 Kalevala.

The first poem was sung by Ontrei Malinen(1780-1855), one of the great bards, to A. J. Sjogren, an older contemporary of Lönnrot, in 1825. It tells of a quarrel between two men on a narrow road about who should

make way for the other; the settling of the score by a contest of magic suggests that they were shamans. The younger, Joukavainen or Joukahainen, who throws down the challenge, sings commonplaces about birds, fish, trees, land, and sea, whereupon the older, Väinämöinen, scornfully declares that he assisted at the creation of the world,

bearing the arch of heaven

and fixing the sky's pillar

filling the heaven with stars

and stretching out the Great Bear.

(35-8; translation revised)

To teach him a lesson, he magics his young rival into a swamp - and for a moment, interestingly, feels ashamed of abusing his powers. To save his skin, his victim offers gold, silver, his horse - in vain; but when he offers his sister the spell is reversed, and he goes 'weeping home / wailing to the farm', expecting his parents to be furious; but the poem ends with his mother delighted at the prospect of such a gifted son-in-law.

The second poem was sung to Lönnrot on that remarkable fifth field trip in 1834, by a homeless widow known only as Matro, who scraped a meagre living by knitting socks. Her poem tells of Anni, a 'matchless(aini) girl' who is accosted in the forest by a man. She goes weeping home(like the young shaman above - this is a formula), and fobs off her father, brothers, and sisters with a story about losing trinkets, but - as we have seen - tells her mother the real reason for her tears. Her mother bids her fatten herself up and dress splendidly, but Anni, in 'the shed on the hill' where the family trousseau is kept,

strangled herself with the belts

choked herself with the girdles

she staggered, she slumped

hanged herself with her own thread ...

(78-81)

Her mother finds her, and the poem ends with a moving passage describing how her tears swell to rivers, on whose banks birches rise with cuckoos on their boughs lamenting Anni. An Estonian variant tells of a girl accosted by a man, whom she stabs dead 'through his splendid wooing-shirt', then goes weeping home to be congratulated by her mother on getting rid of the landlord's son who was a common nuisance:

as so often in folk poetry, similar elements produce a different compound.

The third, much shorter poem was again sung by Ontrei, this time to Lönnrot on his third field trip in 1833. It concerns Väinämöinen again, out fishing. He catches a strange fish, and prepares to cut it up, but it slips from his grasp back into the water. It is in fact no fish, but a mermaid, who calls him a 'wretched old man', and says that was no way to treat a potential wife. The poem is of Christian origin, designed to discredit belief in Väinämöinen as a water-god.

The three poems have little enough in common; yet Lönnrot joined them together to form one of the most powerful episodes of the Kalevala. After the Creation cantos in which we meet Väinämöinen as a culture-hero, Lönnrot introduces the young upstart Joukahainen who, when his 'child's wisdom, woman's recall' fails to impress, starts boasting(3:215-34); Väinämöinen's reply(235-54) has some of the splendour of Job's God(cf. Job 38). He no longer feels compunction for singing his rival into a swamp, because he has been challenged to a sword-fight. In canto 4 the promised sister becomes Matro's Anni, whom Lönnrot renames Aino, his own invention after the adjective aini(of Germanic origin, cognate with English 'one' in the sense of unique - the name has been in use ever since) and Väinämöinen becomes the suitor. Aino's distress is dwelt on by the addition of two lyrics('How do the lucky ones feel' and 'Better it would be for me', 197-230); then, arriving at the shed, she puts on her wedding dress and wanders off. She comes to a lake, undresses, swims, and drowns. Suicide? The text is evasive, dreamlike. Why Lönnrot drowns her instead of hanging her we shall see in a moment. As she dies, Aino identifies herself with the lake - the waters are her blood, the fish her flesh(363-70) - a turning back to inanimate nature often found in Finnish folk poems about death. Instead of her mother discovering her, various animals are detailed to bear the news of her death: only the hare does so, and her mother weeps as in Matro's poem, with a beautiful last word from Lönnrot about the cuckoo changing its role from harbinger of summer to recaller of grief. Canto 5 opens with Väinämöinen, but now he is mourning: he learns where there are mermaids, and goes fishing there. He catches a wondrous fish, and all follows as in Ontrei's poem until the fish says it used to be Joukahainen's sister(126): the 'wretched old man' taunt(129) acquires a new emotional charge.

Lönnrot did his work so well that some people thought he had restored a lost epic from its scattered fragments: that is at least a tribute to his literary sense. For the Kalevala is not Finnish oral poetry in epitome. In

the first place there is more lyric than epic poetry, and the Kanteletar is the fatter book; in the second, Lönnrot fitted his material to his purpose, which was not that of a modern folklorist. If this son of a poor tailor from Sammatti(a village not far from Helsinki, now on the tourist trail) was not a Homer in the accepted sense - his own poetic achievement in the literary sphere is modest - then he was a great rhapsode, performing in print as Homer's interpreters had performed at festivals in the fifth century BC: as it happens, a rhapsode was literally a 'stitcher together' of(presumably) separate poems into a performance, a rhapsody. Lönnrot's first epic 'performance' was the 1835 Kalevala; that of 1849 shows him warming to his theme, filling out his portrait of the 'heroic age' of the Finns with lyrics and incantations. It was a massive labour of assembly that involved not only stitching poems together, but patching some with scraps of others. Lönnrot, like Homer, unified dialects into a kind of national demotic: 'The language in these poems is ordinary Karelian Finnish, not much different from the speech of other Finnish provinces, so a Finn from anywhere will with a little adjustment easily understand them'(1849 preface) - though, it should be added, with the help of such glosses as accompany the work of later 'unifiers' like Kazantzakis and Mac-Diarmid. Some of Lönnrot's characters are likewise 'unified'. The opening lines of canto 11 refer to Ahti the Islander, Lemminkainen(alias lieto Lemmin poika'wanton Loverboy'), and Farmind (Kaukomieli, a footloose Viking figure) as one man, whereas in the source material there are three. In one variant(FFPE 34) Lemminkäinen even fights Ahti, and cuts off his head 'like cropping a turnip', a fate Lönnrot transfers to the Master of Northland(27:382); but this is nothing beside the bard Arhippa(FFPE 37), who has Farmind cropping Herod. Lönnrot virtually invented the Kullervo of cantos 31-36 by combining poems about an orphan child of Herculean strength(for example FFPE 41-43), about a departing warrior(137), about incest(44, 45), and about reacting to news of death(137-141); the main characters of these poems have various names, including Kullervo, while the incestuous brother is sometimes Lemminkäinen.

The society depicted is highly improbable - a water-god turned shaman and a sky-god turned smith sailing off together on a Viking-style raid(canto 39). But this is not Lönnrot's invention: his source is Arhippa himself(FFPE 12, one of the tradition's masterpieces). Folklorists call such a poem an example of syncretism, mixing the incompatible: for an English example,

There is an old tale goes that Herne the hunter,

Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest,

Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,

Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns ...

(The Merry Wives of Windsor, IV. iv)

The 'old tale' tells of his being wounded by a stag, killing it, going mad, tying its antlers on his head, running naked through the forest, and hanging himself: the sheer improbability of it all suggests a mix of, say, a known Tudor poacher called Horne and the Celtic horned god Cernunnos, whose image in turn recalls a shaman in full regalia. Oral tradition projects a timeless present full of such contradictions, faithfully echoed by Lönnrot except in one particular, the Christian element. His historical scheme shows Christianity suddenly arriving to take over in the last act, like Fortinbras in Hamlet(canto 50). In fact, as we have seen, it coexisted with pagan beliefs for centuries, especially in Karelia: Väinämöinen's journey to the otherworld for a tool to mend his sledge(25: 673-738) arises, according to the source material, from a mishap on his way to church(FFPE 30).

Christianity apart, Lönnrot followed the example of his best sources, shaping existing material into new wholes; but with the advantage of literacy he took the process further.

The Kalevala, then, is not for folklorists, who are amply provided for in the archives of the Finnish Literature Society. The Finns have their national epic, but what of the rest of us? What are we to make of myth, 'sacred narrative', turned long since into legend, then served up as history? It is time to turn away from folklore towards the Kalevala as literature: whatever went into its making, the proof of the pudding is in the eating.

The Kalevala as literature

In a young nation state concerned about its place in the Western world, the national epic has had a mixed reception over the last decade or so: current interest is centred more on the oral tradition behind it. The shift, reflected in the school textbook Kansanruno-Kalevala('The Folk Poem Kalevala' ed. Matti Kuusi, Helsinki, 1976) and the bulky anthology Runojen kirja: neljä vuosisataa suomalaista runoutta('The Book of Poems: four centuries of Finnish poetry' ed. Veikko Polameri, Helsinki, 1977), is readily understood: Finland has folklore archives that are virtually unrivalled, and related disciplines more exportable than what some Finns regard as a literary monument to local aspirations. The fact remains, however, that the Kalevala is the work of Finnish literature best

known abroad, where it must stand or fall as a text in its own right. Having seen it in its historical and cultural setting, we might now try to see it in the setting it creates for itself, the 'heroic' world of the Dark Ages when the Kalevala tradition was being formed.

'It is the nature of epic poetry to be at ease in regard to its subject matter', writes W. P. Ker in his still indispensable study of medieval narrative, Epic and Romance(London, 1908). The Kalevala tells its story unselfconsciously, without straining for effect, almost without abstraction or moralizing; it has the dramatic sense for which Aristotle praises Homer of revealing character mainly through speech; like a good film, it cuts from one close-up to another, adding the occasional long shot for contrast. Ker identifies two styles in early Teutonic epic, the broadly sweeping western style(for example, Beowulf) with its enjambements, its sentences beginning and ending in mid-line, like the blank verse of centuries later, and the terser, end-stopped northern(for example, the Elder Edda) , which led to the ballad and the lyric poetry of the skalds, so that epic narrative had to switch to prose, whence the sagas. Then, around the twelfth century, came romance, replacing local heroic values with those of cosmopolitan chivalry. Ker's range of reference, breathtaking though it still is, did not extend to Finnish epic: had it done so, he might have decided that this lies somewhere between Beowulf and the Edda. It has some of the former's breadth, but without enjambement, and some of the latter's terseness, but without a tendency to short forms. All three epic styles share a taste for alliteration, but beyond that prosodies diverge. The leap and thump of Teutonic, not only in poetry but in ordinary speech(as Hopkins knew when he tried to bring the rhythms of English poetry back to those of speech), gives way to a dance of light consonants and harmonizing vowels. All three epic styles, too, are oral in origin, and the Finnish experience suggests that some of the difference observed by Ker may be due to different methods of recording oral material. While the Anglo-Saxon and Icelandic bards were performing, and while they were being written down, Finnish epic was flourishing in communities on the eastern edge of the Viking homelands; but Europe became aware of their poetic achievement only in the nineteenth century, after a time-lag of up to a millennium. When Western scholars include the Kalevala and its sources in their studies of early European epic, they may feel the kind of excitement that palaeontologists felt on discovering a live coelacanth.

The Kalevala moves with ease between epic proper, lyric, rite, and magic, four modes derived from the four principal types of poem in the tradition. There is the epic splendour of the eagle formed from a sheet of

flame refusing to return to its master after catching the great pike in the river of Death:

Well, the iron-foot eagle

at that flared up into flight -

up into the sky it soared

on to a long bank of cloud:

the clouds squirmed, the heavens mewed

the lids of the sky tilted

the Old Man's bow snapped

so did the moon's horny points.

(19:305-12)

A notable feature of Finnish epic is its humour - nothing subtle or dignified, but the kind of comic relief one meets in Shakespearean tragedy. Our heroes have stolen the Sampo while Northland sleeps, and as they sail away with their booty Lemminkainen, against advice, bursts into song 'with his surly voice / with his rasping throat'(42:283-4). He disturbs a crane 'counting its toe bones'(295), which 'let out a weird croak'(299) and wakes Northland, leading to the climactic battle scene of the next canto. No wonder Lönnrot's colleagues complained of his tampering with his material, for according to the source - Arhippa singing for Lönnrot himself - the crane is disturbed because 'an ant, a ballocking boy (mulkupoika) / pissed' on its leg(FFPE 12:269-70).

Then there is the lyric delicacy of the Maid of the North about to leave her childhood home with her bridegroom:

This is how the lucky feel

how the blessed think -

like daybreak in spring

the sun on a spring morning.

But how do I feel

in my gloomy depths? -

like the flat brink of a cloud

like a dark night in autumn

a black winter day;

no, darker than that -

gloomier than an autumn night.

(22:173-84)

Rite and magic are less common in literature. The longest ritual passages accompany the wedding(cantos 21-5) and the bear hunt and feast(canto 46). The wedding sequence is remarkable for its comprehensiveness: one is reminded of Les Noces by Stravinsky, who uses Russian material, though childhood memories of his birthplace Kaarasti(Russian Oranienbaum) in Finnish-speaking Ingria could have contributed. There is sensible advice to the bride about living in an extended family where food may be in short supply:

Should you see a child upon the floor

even if 'tis sister-in-law's child

lift the child on to a bench

wash its eyes and smooth its hair

put some bread into its hand

spread some butter on the bread;

if there's no bread in the house

put a wood-chip in its hand.

(23:185-92)

The bridegroom too receives advice, such as to avoid his wife's face when beating her, for 'a lump / would come up on the eyebrow / a blueberry on the eye'(24:253-4), which would lead to gossip. Nevertheless, he is urged to defend her against his family when necessary: he must 'stand as a wall before her / stay as a doorpost'(24:199-200).

This is a formula, which features more often in charms to stop blood, as in one of the longest incantations, which forms most of canto 9. Väinämöinen has gashed his knee with his axe. To heal the wound, two things are required - magic and medicine. A spell(27-266) recites the origin or 'birth' (synty) of the offending substance, to demonstrate one's power over it: this is sound psychotherapy, as we have since discovered. As a shaman, Väinämöinen is a kind of consultant: he makes a diagnosis, then refers the patient - here himself - for treatment to a practitioner - here an unnamed old man whose son acts as a nurse. The diagnosis('thorough knowledge') consists of showing that the shaman knows all about iron, of which the axe is made. An odd tale of milk from heavenly nipples producing iron ore leads to the lowlier magic of rebuke and threat, recited by the old man(271-342), who goes on to the final exorcism(343-416). The blood is commanded to stop flowing:

Blood, stand like a wall

stay, gore, like a fence

like an iris in a lake

stand, like sedge among moss, like

a boulder at a field-edge

a rock in a steep rapid!

(347-52)

Should it refuse to stop flowing, a higher power - the Demon - is invoked to boil the blood dry. Should that not work either, God himself is called upon to 'press your fat thumb'(408) on the wound. Then a salve is prepared, tested(spectacularly), and applied, and all is well. This is the basic technique; there are many variations. Origin spells are not always such flights of fancy: the beer spell in canto 20 is a coded recipe - barley, hops, water, and saliva from fighting bears to stimulate fermentation; while the snake spell in canto 26 is a loathsomely vivid metaphor - a blob of mucus spat on water, stretched lengthwise and 'blessed' with eyes. Charms - spells in miniature - often use metaphor too, but in a more compressed way, as in the labour charm which commands a nature spirit:

Take up a golden

club in your right hand:

with it shatter bars

and break the doorposts

dislodge the Creator's locks

and snap off the inner bolts

for the great to go, the small

to go, the puny to pass!

(45:139-46)

The incantations of the epic are like coloratura arias, with both medium and performer showing what they are capable of.

Following the example of Aristotle, who in the Poetics summarizes the Odyssey in three sentences('This is essential; the rest is episode'), one might offer a still briefer account of the Kalevala thus: 'The Sampo is forged, a rogue screws; there's a wedding, a murder, the blues; a serf bites the dust, the Sampo gets bust, and Finland receives the Good News.' For a fuller description, the Kalevala can be divided into eight cycles, each with a leading character.

1. The first Väinämöinen cycle(cantos 1-10). Väinämöinen(the name is

probably derived from archaic väinä 'slow-flowing river', whence he is also called 'Calm Waters man') is the dominant figure of the epic and culture-hero of the tradition, in which he sometimes appears as a water-god creating the world; in the epic he is a shaman. The first man on earth, he founds the land of Kalevala, twice fails to find a wife, and nominates Ilmarinen to forge the mysterious Sampo for Northland.

2. The first Lemminkainen cycle(cantos 11-15). Lemminkainen(probably from lempi, cf. Greek erōs) is a many-named(see earlier) adventurer in every sense, who leaves his wife to woo the Maid of the North, is killed, but is then restored to life by his mother.

3. The second Väinämöinen cycle(cantos 16-25). Väinämöinen and Ilmarinen compete for the Maid of the North; Ilmarinen wins, and Väinämöinen sings at the wedding.

4. The second Lemminkäinen cycle(cantos 26-30). Angry at not being invited to the wedding, Lemminkäinen kills the Master of Northland, has more amorous adventures, and is finally thwarted by the Frost.

5. The Kullervo cycle(cantos 31-6). Sold as a serf to Ilmarinen after a family feud, Kullervo causes the death of Ilmarinen's wife. He unwittingly seduces his sister, revives the feud, is defeated, and kills himself.

6. The Ilmarinen cycle(cantos 37-8). In the tradition Ilmarinen(perhaps from ilma'sky, air') is sometimes a sky-god; in the epic he is a smith, and friend and comrade to Väinämöinen. Here he is briefly dominant as a widower who tries to make a new wife out of gold.

7. The third Väinämöinen cycle(cantos 39-49). The climax of the epic: the men of Kalevala sail to Northland, steal the Sampo, but lose it overboard in battle. Kalevala prospers nevertheless, and despite the plagues sent by Louhi, Mistress of Northland.

8. The Marjatta cycle(canto 50). The virgin Marjatta(a form of Mary or Margaret) is impregnated by a berry (marja) and produces a son to whom the heavens defer. Väinämöinen ungraciously hands Finland over to him, and sails away, leaving his songs behind.

Beyond these characters, the cast-list remains elegantly short. We have already met Joukahainen and his sister Aino. Louhi is the leading Northland character; her unnamed husband appears only in canto 27, to be killed by Lemminkäinen. She is first a friend, then a foe; her daughter, known only as the Maid of the North, is wooed in turn by Väinämöinen, Lemminkäinen, and Ilmarinen, who must each perform tasks to win her. Kyllikki, Lemminkäinen's wife, is surprisingly modern in her insistence on

equal rights(canto 11). Lesser characters requiring comment are dealt with in the Notes.

The human world of the epic is, as it were, a commonwealth of heroes: the protagonists Väinämöinen and Louhi have their followers, Ilmarinen has serfs to work his bellows, Marjatta has a servant, but there is no precedence, no sense of lord and retainer. This is due not to any early experiment in democracy, as in the Icelandic sagas, but to the primitiveness of the society depicted. The otherworld, in contrast, is strictly hierarchical. As we saw in the blood-stopping charm earlier, there are three classes of spirits, forming a pyramid. At the base the animistic world-view generates any number of resident spirits, sometimes personifications('Blood, stand like a wall'), sometimes named after what they inhabit - nature-daughters, Sampsa 'the field's son', Sinew-daughter, and many others. Above them are spirits with 'proper' names like Tapio, lord of the forests, and Tuoni, lord of the dead. Neither good nor evil in themselves, they must be treated with respect, or the hunter will not catch his prey, and the shaman who visits the dead will not come back. Some such spirits, if not evil, are at least mischievous - the Demon (Hiisi) , alias the Devil (Lempo) , who causes Väinämöinen's wound in canto 8, whose followers are demons (hiiet, pirut) or judases (juuttahat) . At the apex of the pyramid is the Old Man (Ukko, cf. modern Finnish ukkonen'thunder'), who is identified with God (Jumala, the name adopted by Christianity).

The central narrative of the epic concerns the changing relations between Kalevala and Northland (Pohjola) , which hinge on the Sampo - its manufacture(canto 10), its theft(42), and loss in battle(43). Much scholarly ink has flowed into speculation on two questions: Where was Northland? What was the Sampo? What little remains to be said must be prefaced by two caveats: the bards themselves could not answer either question, and Lönnrot's guesses were based on historical theories long since discredited. But the reader coming to the epic for the first time deserves at least something to quiet Eliot's housedog of the mind.

The epic identifies Kalevala with Finland, Northland with Lapland. But even if the names refer to two peoples who were once neighbours in southern Finland - the Finns and Tacitus' Fenni, who were probably Lapps - there is no evidence of the former helping the latter until these overtook their benefactors and had to be brought back into line. As Lönnrot himself wondered: 'When would any other people have been subject to taxation by the Lapps?'(1849 preface). His answer to his own question was that Northland belonged to Alfred's 'Beormas', North Karelians: 'Here indeed is the central bond or unity of the Kalevala

poems, that they tell how Kalevala gradually caught up with Northland and finally overtook it'(ibid.). This, as Michael Branch has pointed out(1985), needs to be seen in the context of an emerging nineteenth-century nation state, itself busy with catching up, and hoping to overtake. We are left with the text and the tale it tells.

The Sampo offers the house-dog richer meat. According to canto 10, it is a mill with a decorated lid, made by a smith and hence of metal, that grinds corn, salt, and money; but its subsequent history is hardly consonant with a mill, be it never so versatile. The very notion of a mill may be a Scandinavian importation: scholars have cited the poem in the Elder Edda about a magic mill (Gróttasöngr, 'The Song of the Grinders' in Auden and Taylor trans., Norse Poems, London, 1981). Guesses have included an idol(Lönnrot), a chest containing treasure or a document, a world pillar or tree, a model of the cosmos ... The modern Finnish poet Paavo Haavikko has even proposed at some length a mint stolen by Vikings from Byzantium, since forged Byzantine coins have been found in Finland. But it is difficult to square any of these with the ingredients in the epic for its manufacture specified by Louhi, who asks Ilmarinen to make the Sampo

from a swan's quill tip

a barren cow's milk

a small barley grain

a summer ewe's down ...

(10:263-6)

Suddenly, it seems, the 'Beormas' need something of metal, about which they have no idea; indeed, Ilmarinen can find no facilities for making it - 'no forge, no anvil / no hammer, no handle even!'(287-8). Or are they driving a hard bargain, though they are in no position to do so? When the smith eventually sets to work, he produces first a crossbow, then a boat, a heifer, and a plough - a neat summary, perhaps, of hunting, fishing, stock-breeding, and agriculture - and only then the Sampo itself. Exeunt Beormas; enter Fenni, bearing arrows sharpened with bone. For a more palatable interpretation we need to turn to the tradition. Michael Branch sees the Sampo as a 'parody of courtship', with Väinämöinen as matchmaker. The Sampo ingredients are part of the suitor's 'impossible tasks' like those facing Väinämöinen(canto 8), Lemminkäinen(13-14) and Ilmarinen again(19). The rest, as Aristotle says, is episode. Readers of the epic must be content with the Sampo for what it is, and was meant to be - a mysterious object.

The most interesting relationship in the epic is that between Ilmarinen and Väinämöinen. Traces of their sometime divine status can be discerned in Väinämöinen's association with water and water-spirits, and in Ilmarinen's unanswerable self-qualification for making the Sampo as the smith who made the sky(canto 10). As mortals they are portrayed as friends and comrades('brothers'). Though they occasionally appear together in the source material(for example, FFPE 12, the great Sampo raid poem), their comradeship in the epic is mostly Lönnrot's invention, a Finnish Roland and Oliver. But it is a very unequal comradeship: apart from the smith's success in their rivalry to win the Maid of the North(canto 18), the shaman has the upper hand, as when he tricks the smith into first going to Northland(10), mocks him for making a woman of gold(37), proves him wrong over what to do with fishbones(40), and mocks him again for making a replacement moon and sun(49). The Maid prefers youth, however grimy, to age, however rich; but when it comes to intelligence the shaman repeatedly outwits the smith. What is Lönnrot doing here? Is he arguing the superiority of magic to metalworking, as if to say that the Finns in their 'heroic age' were peaceful, resolving their conflicts with spells rather than cold steel? The epic generally bears this out, so that when violence does take place it is shocking: in canto 27 the duel between Lemminkäinen and the Master of Northland becomes bloody only when a contest of magic proves inconclusive, and in canto 49 even Väinämöinen does not scruple to lay about him when all else fails. Most of the time, however, magic rules, often at the smith's expense. Even in his solo performance in canto 37 he is finally upstaged by the shaman, who, on being offered the Golden Bride the smith has made but failed to warm up, dismisses her as 'this golden bugbear'(216), and suggests she be melted down to make something useful, or sold to greedy foreigners. This episode can be seen from another angle when it is compared with a later(1858) Ingrian variant in the tradition: FFPE 22 tells of a smith tired of making tools that are taken for granted, so he makes an idol of a kind often found in the far North(St Stephen of Perm reported 'a golden woman' in the fourteenth century), which frightens everyone but pleases him. Something of this surfaces in canto 37 when the serfs working the bellows are 'badly scared'(143) as the woman emerges. But Väinämöinen's rejection has more than a touch of Stephen about it when he warns the young against 'bowing to gold / scraping to silver'(237-8), and it is the shaman who gives way to the virgin Marjatta's son in canto 50, the old magic giving way to the new.

Magic remains the biggest problem for the modern reader. We can accept it when the context supplies clues - there is blood to be

stopped(canto 9), game to be caught(14), even a corpse to be resurrected(15); but what of the magic that is dumped without preliminaries in the lap of the unsuspecting foreigner or city-dweller who no longer grasps the language of myth?

To go to Northland, Väinämöinen 'took a stallion of straw / a horse of pea stalks'(6: 5-6). Learned opinion has tended to regard this as a description of the beast's colour, but Felix Oinas(1985) argues that a shaman would mount a stick of straw and proclaim it a horse; in English folklore one is reminded of a witch's broomstick. Here the epic supplies its own critique: in the wedding ritual, Kaleva-daughter says she would praise even 'a stallion of straw' if it were bringing the bridegroom to the feast(23:63-6), implying a fortiori how much more welcome a real horse would be. The boat 'born uncarved / the ship with no shaving pared'(17:627-8), the animals invoked in the duel(27:205-56), the smith's fire that leaves the serfs unscorched(canto 37) exist only in the poem: they are products of the creative Word as uttered by culture-heroes like Orpheus, whose rule ended with what Mallarmé, with characteristic panache, called la grande déviation homérique of poetry as reportage.

The Kalevala, then, has some extraordinarily archaic features, but these very features can bring it to life in a world that has inherited the preoccupations of Modernism: if we enjoy a Picasso influenced by African masks, or a Stravinsky who has learned from pagan rites of passage, then the Kalevala is for us. What once mystified as magic can challenge us as poetic truth: across the centuries, across the great divide between oral tradition and literature, the epic invites our attention as that most universal of spells, a poem.

The translation

As we have seen, the shaping of the Kalevala involved a certain dislocation - from oral tradition to literature, from scattered fragments to monumental epic, from 'little' tradition to 'great'. Such dislocation is eased when a nation knows that 'one man ... is restoring to us our state', but it is compounded when we move outside the national context by way of translation. How is a translator to keep alive a work whose cultural setting has so little in common with that of his readers? From the English-speaker's point of view, the Kalevala is the Finns' Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, and Wordsworth rolled into one; but the genius of its sources could neither read nor write. It is as though English literature had begun with Percy's Reliques, and everything before had

been written in French. That is the size of the translator's problem.

One translator can ignore the problem, and give an account, as accurate as he can make it, in plain prose, like Magoun(1963): the result will please students of the exotic. Another translator can assume a cultural equivalent, and thus complete the dislocation, like Kirby(1907): the result will please nearly everybody(many of us owe our first contact with the epic to Kirby), who will wonder why such charming fairy-tales are considered so important. Somewhere between Magoun's Scylla and Kirby's Charybdis a third translator may steer a way, combining accuracy without dullness and readability without falsification. The Fromms(1967) have achieved it in German, despite their commitment to reproducing the original metre, or rather the German adaptation of it. The present translation departs from the practice of many translators of the epic into many tongues by replacing the original metre with another. This, after all, has been the usual method in English since Gavin Douglas's Aeneid(1513), though one need not follow the example of the unknown Augustan translating a Lappish folk poem(one of two published by Johannes Scheffer in 1673) in The Spectator:

Haste, my rein-deer! and let us nimbly go

Our am'rous journey through this dreary waste;

Haste, my rein-deer! still thou art too slow,

Impetuous love demands the lightning's haste ...

The verse translator must first be a good listener. Finnish is pure bel canto: where 'standard' English has some twelve vowels and twenty-four consonants, Lönnrot's 'ordinary Karelian Finnish' has only eight vowels and twelve consonants, which seldom cluster more than two together. So alliteration, far from being the maker's hammer-mark, is sometimes hard to avoid, and translators have found that any consistent attempt to reproduce it would not only take them too far from an original full of concrete particulars, but would weigh down a version in a 'heavier' language like English or German; besides which English alliterative verse was already 'uncouth' to Dunbar's ear five hundred years ago.

Unlike Germanic with its stress accent, Finnish has a tonic(or pitch) accent. Languages with a tonic accent tend not to use it as a metrical feature: if quantity is functional, they use that, like ancient Greek and Latin; if it is not, they count syllables, like modern Greek, and the Romance and Celtic languages. In the present foreigner's view, the basis of Kalevala poetry is quantitative, which is why it sounds 'irregular' to Germanic and even to modern Finnish ears, so strong has Germanic cultural influence been. While Finnish scholars observe that a long

syllable cannot occur in an 'unstressed' position, they admit that roughly half of all known Kalevala poetry consists of 'broken lines', meaning lines that do not scan accentually, like the opening lines of the epic:

Mieleni minun tekevi,

aivoni ajattelevi ...

('I have a good mind / take into my head ...'). Kirby 'corrects' the metre thus: 'I am driven by my longing, / And my understanding urges ...'. The Fromms, likewise, running two lines into one: 'Mich verlangt in meinem Sinne, mich bewegen die Gedanken ...'. But no scientist would tolerate a law that is broken half the time. Could Kalevala metre be syllabic? If it were, there would not be the variation one finds in the sources. Could the parallelism point to a syntactical basis, as in biblical poetry? But even in the epic(which is smoother than the sources) parallelism presents wide variations, including what sounds like parallelism but in fact is not:

vyöltä vanhan Väinämöinen,

alta ahjon Ilmarisen ...

(literally 'from-the-belt of-old Väinämöinen, / from-beneath the-forge of-Ilmarinen', 1:31-2). In modern Finnish this would be vanhan Väinämöinen vyöltä, Ilmarisen ahjon alta: beyond what Finns call the 'winnowing principle', whereby longer words gravitate towards the end of the line, another law is operating here, pitting sound against sense. In the opening lines quoted above, it is surely a quantitative law one hears when one knows that the Karelian verb-ending -evi is often recorded as -eepi(cf. modern Finnish -ee); though the law's application throughout Kalevala poetry is more relaxed Greek than rigid Roman.

The apparent confusion of accent and quantity could go back to eighteenth-century German adaptations of Classical metres and forms, and to their Swedish derivatives. English poets have rarely gone further than adapting a few metrical feet(iambus, anapaest, and so on), but some of the greatest German poetry is in 'Classical' hexameters, alcaics and others. The adaptation consisted of exchanging long syllables for stressed, short for unstressed. It was still flourishing in Finland in 1917, when Koskenniemi published his Elegioja('Elegies'):

Yksin oot sinä, ihminen, kaiken keskellä yksin,

yksin syntynyt oot, yksin sa lähtevä oot ...

('You are alone, man, alone amid everything, / alone you were born, alone you will depart ...'). Whether or not Finns listen to their own folk

poetry with Germanic ears - and there are many examples elsewhere of such alienation in similar circumstances - it has certainly been heard that way by translators. The model seems to have been Goethe, in whose Finnisches Lied(1810) the 'broken lines' are all mended. The poem is worth quoting in full beside the original, first printed in a Swedish travel book in French(1801), which partly accounts for the strange Finnish. 'Broken lines' - fewer than average - are marked below with asterisks; Goethe's metre has become the anakreontisch of Gleim:

('If the one I know came now / the one I've seen were in sight / I'd snatch a kiss from his mouth / though his mouth bled from a wolf / I would grasp him by the hand / though a snake were in his palm! / Had the wind a mind / and the gale a tongue / it would bring word, take a word / set an extra word astir / between two lovers. / I will sooner leave fine foods / and forget rectory roasts / before I leave my sweetheart / the one I tamed all summer / and persuaded all winter.') Seventy variants of this lyric have been recorded. The first Finnish folk poem to reach the outside world, it was accompanied by a traduction verbale and first appeared in English in 1802. Goethe's translation, the first in verse, demonstrates the principle still in use by a later generation of Weimar translators, who signed their work with fertaitsht un ferbessert'translated into Yiddish and improved'. Then came Schiefner, Longfellow, Crawford, Kirby, the Fromms ... It is a pity that the common sense translators have applied to the question of alliteration in Kalevala poetry has not also been applied to that of metre, especially when the metre of their translations is a travesty of the original. As any reader of Hiawatha knows, the metre is not only monotonous, it restricts language to the point of triviality - in English, at least. This matters little in a romance of Indians without cowboys, but it matters a great deal in an epic of world stature, most of whose readers approach it in translation.

The only way I could devise of reflecting the vitality of Kalevala metre was to invent my own, based on syllables rather than feet. While translating over 17,000 lines of Finnish folk poetry before I started on the epic, I found that a line settled usually into seven syllables of English, often less, occasionally more. I eventually arrived at seven, five, and nine syllables respectively, using the impair(odd number) as a formal device and letting the stresses fall where they would. Syllable-based metres are not new to English verse: Wyatt adapts the Italian endecasillabo, and like any metre evolved through the demands of translation - such as blank verse itself, invented by Surrey for translating Virgil - they can explore unfamiliar rhythms.

The present translation attempts to provide a counterpart for as much as possible of Lönnrot's text. Not an equivalent - there can be none; not a substitute - there is not the shared background. A counterpart, then, for its many rhythms, its formulaic construction, its foundation in popular speech. The subtitle and canto titles are mine; the latter replace Lönnrot's detailed Renaissance-style 'arguments' in rather quaint Finnish (Runo alotteleikse'The poem causes itself to be beginning' - an old Karelian reflexive). My only textual interference has been to run together many of the original's shorter paragraphs; changes of punctuation have been dictated largely by the often considerable difference of idiom. For the rest, I hope I have produced a version that is both readable and accurate: several Finns with good English claim to have 'heard' the Kalevala when I have read from the present translation. Much of the power of Kalevala Finnish lies in its verbs, whose frequently wayward tenses I have faithfully rendered('He says with this word / he spoke with this speech'): 'to roll' has nine derivatives in the epic, for many of which English has quite separate words. There is nothing like translation for improving knowledge of one's mother tongue. Among nouns, diminutives proliferate: I have thrown in the odd 'little' or 'dear' or the like where it seemed necessary.

The essential structural feature of formula repetition has been kept with the help of a concordance. Of course one does not always translate a word in the same way, but a formula needs to be recognizable. Problems of tone arise when a formula occurs in widely varying contexts: the line Jo vainen valehtelitki! occurs twice in canto 15 when Lemminkäinen's mother asks desperately about her missing son, and twice in canto 43 when Väinämöinen inquires about a cloud. In isolation these might be rendered respectively 'You're fobbing me off!' and 'You're having me on!' The translator of both can only be more literal in the hope of encompassing both with 'Surely you have lied!' The original listeners would have responded to the same words fitting both contexts: like Mallarmé they knew that poems are made not of ideas but of words.

The Kalevala is founded on popular speech because for the bards there was no other, except for what they heard in church. It has much in common with English rural speech, which changes little from one generation to the next: one still hears "tis' and "twas', wenches(servant girls) are still luckless, fellows are still wroth enough to rise betimes(early) and smite their foes. Occasionally a Scottish word or usage has been preferable or necessary - 'calloo' rather than 'long-tailed duck' (Clangula hyemalis) , associated in Finnish tradition with sorrow; the literal rendering 'hen' rather than 'chick' or 'duck' as a term of

endearment; 'tine' to render a dialect word for 'spark'(tiny?) already in use. Gavin Douglas's 'rurall vulgar gros' applies here to the original as well as to the translation. But this is not an exercise in pastoral nostalgia. All these words were needed to match the original's rich vocabulary of synonyms and near-synonyms, due in part to a wealth of dialect words: 'grass' and 'turf' being already spoken for, 'sward' is more appropriate than the educated 'verdure'. A few nonsense words generated by play have been rendered, in our less tolerant tongue, with rare words - 'braes', 'swashed', 'gillaroo'. Names have been translated where they have an obvious meaning. Popular usage has guided syntax too. When the innocent Marjatta's mother demands to know how she came to be pregnant, she asks: Kenen oot makaelema(literally 'Of-whom are-you the-having-been-laid', 50:164). Previous English translators have spoken of resting and bedfellows, but resting, even sleeping with, are euphemisms not in the original, and no bed need come into it; she could even have been raped. The Finnish verb has the same overtones as the English: 'By whom have you been laid' is better, but 'Who were you laid by' is better still.

Early versions by me of extracts from the Kalevala appeared in my first book Tales from the Long Lakes(Gollancz, 1966), in my collection for children And I Dance(Angus & Robertson, 1972), in Young Winter's Tales 3, ed. M. R. Hodgkin(Macmillan, 1972), and a version of canto 4 was published as The Song of Aino by Mr Robert Richardson's Moonbird Publications(1973). The following year I became involved in a continuing project to prepare a series of anthologies presenting Finnish folk poetry and that of all Finno-Ugrian-speaking peoples in the original languages and in English translation; it was through this work that Mr Urpo Vento of the Finnish Literature Society in Helsinki invited me to make a new English translation of the Kalevala, and a grant was awarded through the Finnish Ministry of Education. A version of cantos 11-15 was published as Wanton Loverboy by the Finnish Literature Society in 1985, when Finland celebrated the sesquicentenary of the epic's first edition; a Kalevala issue of Books from Finland published a few extracts, and BBC radio broadcast a few more. Other extracts appeared in the Poetry Review, in programmes for BBC Henry Wood Promenade Concerts, for concerts promoted by Van Walsum Management and the Brighton Festival, in the score of Lemminkäinen, op. 103, by Mr Erik Bergman(Edition Pan, Helsinki), in Timo Martin and Douglas Sivén, Akseli Gallen-Kallela: National Artist of Finland(Watti-Kustannus, Helsinki), on two postcards from the Menard Press of Mr Anthony Rudolf, conversation with whom is always fruitful, and in the catalogue of an exhibition, The Language of

Wood, mounted by the Museum of Applied Arts, Helsinki. The genial godfather of all my Finnish excursions has been Professor Michael Branch, Director of the School of Slavonic and East European Studies in the University of London; Academician Matti Kuusi of the University of Helsinki has inspired and guided all of us who seek poetic excellence in oral tradition. Ms Senni Timonen of the Finnish Literature Society has monitored the translation throughout; her energy was inexhaustible, her contribution is inestimable. The BBC has been a good-natured employer, and Bush House colleagues have been helpful. Most 'thanksworthy', as Finns would say, is my wife Satu Salo, who has shared me with the Kalevala for most of our married life, kept me in touch with modern Finnish usage, and saved me from silly mistakes. Such shortcomings as remain can only be my responsibility. Let this translation of the Kalevala go on its way with a closing formula from an unknown Ingrian bard performing in 1858(FFPE 26:141-5):

Of what use are we singers

what good we cuckoo-callers

if no fire spurts from our mouths

no brand from beneath our tongues

and no smoke after our words!

Upton-cum-Chalvey

K.B.

SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY

In English

Francis Peabody Magoun, Jr.(trans.), The Kalevala, or Poems of the Kaleva District, compiled by Elias Lönnrot. A Prose Translation with Foreword and Appendices(Cambridge, Mass., 1963, 1985). The appendices contain articles by Finnish scholars, Lönnrot's 1835 and 1849 prefaces, an extract from Porthan's De Poësi Fennica, and lists of names and charms.

W. F. Kirby(trans.), Kalevala, the Land of(the) Heroes(London and Dover, NH, 1985). A reissue of the 1907 Everyman's Library verse translation, the first in English from the original, introduced and annotated by Michael Branch.

Matti Kuusi, Keith Bosley, Michael Branch(ed. and trans.), Finnish Folk

Poetry: Epic. An Anthology in Finnish and English(Helsinki, London, Montreal, 1977). Texts of such sources as formed the basis of the Kalevala, but covering a wider range, with extensive introduction and commentary.

Lauri Honko, Senni Timonen, Keith Bosley, Michael Branch(ed. and trans.), The Great Bear. A Thematic Anthology of Oral Poetry in the Finno-Ugrian Languages(Helsinki, 1993). Texts in fifteen languages, with translation, introduction, and commentary.

Felix J. Oinas, Studies in Finnic Folklore: Homage to the Kalevala(Helsinki, 1985). Essays by an Estonian-American scholar, some of which explore links with Slav folklore.

Books from Finland 1(1985). Kalevala issue of the journal of the Finnish Literature Information Centre, Helsinki.

Pentti Leino, Language and Metre: metrics and the metrical system of Finnish(Helsinki, 1986).

In German

Lore and Hans Fromm(trans.), Kalevala. Das finnische Epos des Elias Lönnrot(Munich, 1967; Stuttgart, 1984). Hans Fromm's introduction and commentary are the fullest outside Finnish.

In Finnish

Kalevala(Helsinki, always in print). The school edition of the Finnish Literature Society(Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, SKS) gives the plain text with Lönnrot's 1849 preface. There are many other editions, some illustrated.

Väinö Kaukonen(ed.), Elias Lönnrotin Kalevalan Toinen Painos ['The Second Edition of Elias Lönnrot's Kalevala'](Helsinki, 1956, still in print). With an introduction, a history of the text, a commentary that includes background on Lönnrot's predecessors and contemporaries, and Ahlqvist's concordance.

Aimo Turunen, Kalevalan Sanatja niiden taustat ['The Words of the Kalevala and their background'](Lappeenranta, 1979). The standard work on the epic's vocabulary.

Toivo Vuorela, Kansanperinteen Sanakirja ['Dictionary of the Folk Tradition'](Helsinki, 1979).

Matti Kuusi and Pertti Anttonen, Kalevala-Lipas ['The Kalevala

Box'](Helsinki, 1985). A popular survey, full of useful and curious information.

1. In the Beginning

I have a good mind

take into my head

to start off singing

begin reciting

reeling off a tale of kin

and singing a tale of kind.

The words unfreeze in my mouth

and the phrases are tumbling

upon my tongue they scramble

along my teeth they scatter.

Brother dear, little brother

fair one who grew up with me

start off now singing with me

begin reciting with me

since we have got together

since we have come from two ways!

We seldom get together

and meet each other

on these poor borders

the luckless lands of the North.

Let's strike hand to hand*

fingers into finger-gaps

that we may sing some good things

set some of the best things forth

for those darling ones to hear

for those with a mind to know

among the youngsters rising

among the people growing -

those words we have got

tales we have kindled

from old Väinämöinen's belt

up from Ilmarinen's forge

from the tip of Farmind's brand

1:34-105

from the path of Joukahainen's bow

from the North's furthest fields, from

the heaths of Kalevala.*

My father used to sing them

as he cut an axe handle;

my mother taught them

turning her distaff

and I a child on the floor

fidgeting before her knee

a milk-bearded scamp

a curd-mouthed toddler.

The Sampo did not lack words

nor did Louhi spells:

the Sampo grew old with words

and Louhi was lost with spells

and with tales Vipunen died

and Lemminkainen with games.

There are yet other words too

and mysteries learned -

snatched from the roadside

plucked from the heather

torn from the brushwood

tugged from the saplings

rubbed from a grass-head

ripped from a footpath

as I went herding

as a child in the pastures

on the honey-sweet hummocks

on the golden knolls

following black Buttercup

beside Bouncy the brindled.

The cold told a tale to me

the rain suggested poems:*

another tale the winds brought

the sea's* billows drove;

the birds added words

the treetops phrases.

I wound them into a ball

and arranged them in a coil

slipped the ball into my sled

and the coil into my sledge;

I took it home in the sled

in the sledge towards the kiln*

put it up in the shed loft*

in a little copper box.

Long my tale's been in the cold

for ages has lain hidden:

shall I take the tales out of the cold

scoop the songs out of the frost

bring my little box indoors

the casket to the seat end

under the famous roof beam

under the fair roof

shall I open the word-chest

and unlock the box of tales

unwind the top of the ball

untie the knot of the coil?

I will sing quite a good tale

quite a fair one I'll beat out

after some rye bread

and some barley beer.

If beer is not brought

and ale not offered

I'll sing from a leaner mouth

after water I will lilt

to cheer this evening of ours

to honour the famous day

or to amuse the morrow

and to start the new morning.

* * *

I heard it recited thus

I knew how the tale was made:

with us the nights come alone

1:106-178

the days dawn alone, so was

Väinämöinen born alone

the eternal bard appeared

from the woman who bore him

from Air-daughter his mother.

There was a lass, an air-girl

a nice nature-daughter:* she

long remained holy

for ever girlish

in the air's long yards

on its level grounds.

Her times grew weary

and her life felt strange

from being always alone

living as a lass

in the air's long yards

in the empty wastes.

So now she steps further down

launched herself upon the waves

on the clear high seas

upon the open expanse.

There came a great gust of wind

from the east nasty weather

lashed the sea to foam

whipped it into waves.

The wind lulled the maid

and the billow drove the lass

about the blue main

and the froth-capped waves;

and the wind blew her womb full

the sea makes her fat.

She bore a hard womb

a difficult bellyful

seven hundred years

nine ages of man;

but no birth was born

no creature was created.

The lass rolled as the water-mother:

she swims east, swims west

swims north-west and south

swims all the skylines

in fiery birth-pangs

in hard belly-woes;

but no birth was born

no creature was created.

She weeps and whimpers;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Woe, luckless me, for my days

poor child, for my way of life:

now I have come to something -

for ever under the sky

by the wind to be

lulled, by billows driven

on these wide waters

upon these vast waves!

Better 'twould have been

to live as lass of the air

than just now to toss about

as water-mother: it is

chilly for me to be here

woeful for me to shiver

in billows for me to dwell

in the water to wallow.

O Old Man, chief god

upholder of all the sky

come here when you are needed

come this way when you are called:

free a wench from a tight spot

a woman from belly-throes;

come quickly, arrive promptly

most promptly where the need is!'

A little time passed

a moment sped by.

1:179-249

Came a scaup, straightforward bird

and it flaps about

in search of a nesting-place

working out somewhere to live.

It flew east, flew west

flew north-west and south

but it finds no room

not even the worst spot where

it might build its nest

take up residence.

It glides, it hovers

it thinks, considers:

'Shall I build my cabin on the wind

my dwelling on the billows?

The wind will fell the cabin

the billow will bear off my dwelling.'

So then the water-mother

the water-mother, air-lass

raised her knee out of the sea

her shoulderblade from the wave

for the scaup a nesting-place

sweet land to live on.

That scaup, pretty bird

glides and hovers; it

spied the water-mother's knee

on the bluish main;

thought it was a grass hummock

a clump of fresh sward.

It flutters, it glides

and it lands on the kneecap.

There it builds its nest

laid its golden eggs:

six eggs were of gold

an iron egg the seventh.

It began to hatch the eggs

to warm the kneecap:

it hatched one day, it hatched two

soon it hatched a third as well.

At that the water-mother

the water-mother, air-lass

feels that she is catching fire

that her skin is smouldering;

she thought her knee was ablaze

all her sinews were melting.

And she jerked her knee

and she shook her limbs:

the eggs rolled in the water

sink into the sea's billow;

the eggs smashed to bits

broke into pieces.

The eggs don't fall in the mud

the fragments in the water.

The bits changed into good things

the pieces into fair things:

an egg's lower half

became mother earth below

an egg's upper half

became heaven above;

the upper half that was yolk

became the sun for shining

the upper half that was white

became the moon for gleaming;

what in an egg was mottled

became the stars in the sky

what in an egg was blackish

became the clouds of the air.

The ages go on

the years beyond that

as the new sun shines

as the new moon gleams.

Still the water-mother swims

1:250-322

the water-mother, air-lass

on those mild waters

on the misty waves

before her the slack water

and behind her the clear sky.

Now in the ninth year

in the tenth summer

she raised her head from the sea

she lifts up her poll:

she began her creation

forming her creatures

on the clear high seas

upon the open expanse.

Where she turned her hand around

there she arranged the headlands;

where her foot touched the bottom

there she dug out the fish troughs;

where else she bubbled

there she hollowed out the depths.

She turned her side to the land:

there she brought forth the smooth shores;

she turned her feet to the land:

there she formed the salmon haunts;

with her head she reached the land:

there she shaped the bays.

Then she swam further from land

paused upon the main;

formed the crags in the water

grew the hidden reefs

to be places for shipwreck

the dispatch of sailors' heads.

Now the islands were arranged

and the crags formed in the sea

the sky's pillars set upright

the lands and mainlands called up

patterns* cut upon the rocks

lines drawn on the cliffs; but still

Väinämöinen was not born

nor fledged the eternal bard.

Steady old Väinämöinen

went round in his mother's womb

for thirty summers

and as many winters too

on those mild waters

on the misty waves.

He thinks, considers

how to be, which way to live

in his dark hideout

in his narrow dwelling where

he has never seen the moon

nor beheld the sun.

He says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Moon, unloose, and sun, set free

and Great Bear,* still guide

a man out from the strange doors

from the foreign gates

from these little nests

and narrow dwellings!

Bring the traveller to land

man's child into the open

to look at the moon in heaven

to admire the sun

observe the Great Bear

and study the stars!'

When the moon did not loose him

nor did the sun set him free

all his times felt strange

his life felt irksome:

he shifted the stronghold* gate

with his ring finger

slid the lock of bone

with his left toe, came

1:323-2:32

with his nails from the threshold

with his knees from the doorway.

Then he tripped head first seaward

hands first he tumbled waveward;

the man stays in the sea's care

the fellow in the billows.

He lolled there five years

both five years and six

seven years and eight.

He stood on the main at last

on a headland with no name

on a mainland with no trees.

With his knees he tensed upward

with his arms pulled himself round:

he rose to look at the moon

to admire the sun

observe the Great Bear

and study the stars.

That was Väinämöinen's birth

how the bold bard came to be

from the woman who bore him

from Air-daughter his mother.

2. Felling and Sowing

At that Väinämöinen rose

planted both feet on the heath

on the island on the main

on the mainland with no trees.

He lingered there many years

continued living

on the island with no words

on the mainland with no trees.

He thinks, considers

and long he ponders:

who is to sow lands

and make crops fruitful?

Pellervoinen, the field's son

Sampsa,* tiny boy -

he is to sow lands

and make crops fruitful!

He got down to sowing lands

he sowed lands, sowed swamps

he sowed sandy glades

he has boulders set.

Hills he sowed for pines

sowed mounds for spruces

and heaths for heather

and hollows for young saplings.

On lowlands he sowed birches

alders in light soils

sowed bird cherries in new soils

and goat willows in fresh soils

and rowans on holy ground

and willows on rising ground

junipers on barren lands

and oaks on the banks of streams.

2:33-105

The trees started to come up

and the young saplings to rise:

spruces grew with flowery tops

shock-headed pines spread;

birch trees rose on the marshes

and alders in the light soils

bird cherries in the new soils

junipers on the bare lands

on the juniper a fair berry

on the bird cherry good fruit.

Steady old Väinämöinen

went to look at where

Sampsa had seeded

and Pellervoinen had sown:

he saw the trees had come up

the young saplings had risen;

only the oak is shootless

and rootless the tree of God.

He left the damned thing alone

to sort itself out

and he waited three more nights

and the same number of days.

Then he went to look

after a week at the most:

the oak had not grown

nor rooted the tree of God.

So, he sees four maids

yes, five brides of the water:

they were mowing turf

cutting down dew-straw

on the misty island's tip

at the foggy island's end;

what they mowed they raked

dragged it all into a stack.

Out of the sea came the Beast

the fellow rose out of the billows:

he thrust the hay into fire

and the power of naked flame

burnt it all to ash

reduced it to dust.

A heap of cinders arose

and a pile of dry ashes.

And there was a lovely leaf

a lovely leaf, an acorn

from which grew a fair seedling

a green shoot came up; it rose

from earth like a strawberry

it grew with twin stalks.

It reached out its boughs

it spread out its foliage;

its top filled out heavenward

its foliage spread skyward:

it stopped the clouds from scudding

and the vapours from drizzling

it blocked the sun from shining

the moon from gleaming.

Then the old Väinämöinen

thinks and considers:

might there be an oak-breaker

a cutter of the fine tree?

It is dull for man to live

grim for fish to swim

without the sunshine

without the moon's gleam.

But there's no fellow

nor yet a brave man

who could fell the oak

or lay low the hundred-leaved.

At that old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Woman, mother who bore me

nature-daughter who raised me:

make the water-folk

2:106-175

(in the water are many)

break this oak tree down

and destroy this evil tree

from before the shining sun

away from the gleaming moon!'

Out of the sea a man rose

a fellow came up from the billow:

he was not big as big goes

nor all that small as small goes

but as tall as a man's thumb

as high as a woman's span.

Copper was the hat on his shoulders

copper the boots on his feet

copper mittens on his hands

copper the patterns on the mittens

copper the belt round his waist

copper the axe at his belt

its handle tall as a thumb

blade high as a fingernail.

Steady old Väinämöinen

thinks and considers:

it is a man by his looks

a fellow by appearance

as tall as an upright thumb

as high as an ox's hoof!

Then he put this into words

he uttered, declared:

'What sort of a man are you

wretch, which sort of fellow?

Little better than a corpse

or fairer than a dead man!'

The small man from the sea said

the billow-fellow answered:

'I am quite a man, a small

fellow of the water-folk.

I have come to break the oak

to shatter the brittle tree.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'I do not think you were made

neither made nor appointed

to be the great oak's breaker

to be the grim tree's feller.'

He just managed to say that;

he glances once more:

he saw the man changed

the fellow renewed!

His foot stamps upon the ground

his head holds the clouds;

his beard goes over his knee

and his hair beyond his heels;

a fathom between his eyes

fathom-wide his trouser-leg

one and a half from his knee

two from his breeches' border.

He fingers his axe

he sharpened the even blade

upon six whetstones

on the tip of seven hones

and he swings along

whistles on his way

in his wide trousers

in his broad breeches:

he stepped once nimbly

upon the fine sand

twice rambled along

upon the liver-hued ground

a third time ambled

up to the fiery oak's root.

He struck the tree with his axe

2:176-248

bashed it with his even blade;

he struck once, struck twice

soon a third time tried:

fire flashed from the axe

and a blaze flew from the oak

and the oak wanted to tilt

the world-sallow to topple.

So at the third time

he could fell the oak

and shatter the world-sallow

and bring down the hundred-leaved.

The base he thrust to the east

the top he lowered north-west

the foliage to the great

south, the boughs half way northward.

Who then took a bough

took eternal happiness

and who then broke off the top

broke off eternal magic;

who cut off a leafy twig

he cut off eternal love.

What slivers flew up

what chips of wood leapt

on the clear high seas

upon the vast waves

'twas those the sea lulled

and the sea spray rocked

as boats on open water

and as ships upon the waves.

The wind bore them to Northland:

a tiny wench of the North

is washing out her kerchiefs

and rinsing out clothes

on a wet rock on the shore

upon a long headland's tip.

She saw a sliver floating

gathered it into her bag

in the bag carried it home

in the long-strapped to the yard

to make her witch's arrows

her weapons of enchantment.

When the oak had been broken

and felled the mean tree

suns were free to shine

moons were free to gleam

clouds to scud along

and heaven's arches to curve

on the misty headland's tip

at the foggy island's end.

Then the backwoods began to flourish

the forests to sprout gladly

leaf on tree and grass on ground

and birds on a tree to sing

thrushes to rejoice

the cuckoo on top to call.

On the ground berry stalks grew

golden flowers upon the lea;

grasses grew of every kind

of many forms sprang.

Only barley did not rise

the precious crop did not grow.

At that old Väinämöinen

paces, considers

on the shore of the blue main

the great water's banks

and he found six grains

seven seeds he found

upon the seashore

upon the fine sand

hid them in a marten-skin

in a summer squirrel's shank.

He went to sow them in earth

to broadcast the seed

2:249-318

by the well of Kaleva

on the bank of Osmo's field.

A tomtit chirped from a tree:

'Osmo's barley will not rise

Kaleva's oats will not grow

unless the earth is pressed down

unless a clearing is felled

and is burned with fire.'*

Steady old Väinämöinen

had a sharp axe made;

then he felled a great clearing

and pressed down the powerless earth.

He cut down all the fine trees

but he left one birch

to be the birds' resting-place

and the cuckoo's calling-tree.

An eagle flew across heaven

a bird over the sky; it

came to look at this:

'Why has this been left -

the birch tree not felled

the fine tree not cut?'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'This is why it has been left -

for birds to rest on

the sky's eagle to sit on.'

The eagle, the sky's bird said:

'And you have done well:

you have left the birch growing

the fine tree standing

for birds to rest on

myself to sit on.'

The sky's bird struck fire

made a flame flare up.

The north wind burnt the clearing

the north-east quite consumed it:

it burnt all the trees to ash

reduced them to dust.

At that old Väinämöinen

took up the six grains

the seven seeds took

out of the one marten-skin

from the summer squirrel's shank

out of the summer stoat's paw.

He went to sow them in earth

to broadcast the seed

and he put this into words:

'I get down to sow

between the Lord's fingers, by

way of the Almighty's hand

on this earth that is growing

this glade that is coming up.

Old woman of underground

soil-dame, earth-mistress

now set the sward pushing up

the strong earth heaving!

The earth will not want for strength

ever in this world

while there's love from the givers

and leave from nature's daughters.

Rise, earth, from your bed

the Lord's turf from sleep!

Set the stems teeming

the stalks sticking up!

Raise shoots in thousands

scatter branches in hundreds

from my ploughing, my sowing

all the pains I have taken!

O Old Man, chief god -

that is, heavenly father

2:319-378

keeper of the cloudy realm

governor of the vapours:

in the clouds hold court

in the bright heights clear council!

Rear a cloud out of the east

raise a bank from the north-west

send others out of the west

out of the south hurry them!

Sprinkle water from the sky

and from the clouds drip honey

on the rising shoots

on the rustling crops!'

That Old Man, chief god

father and ruler of heaven

in the clouds held court

in the bright heights clear council;

he reared a cloud from the east

raised a bank from the north-west

sent another from the west

out of the south hurried them;

pushed them together edge-on

knocked them against each other;

sprinkled water from the sky

and from the clouds dripped honey

on the growing shoots

on the rustling crops.

A spiky shoot rose

one stump-hued came up

from the field's soft earth

where Väinämöinen had toiled.

And there on the second day

at the end of two, three nights

after a week at the most

steady old Väinämöinen

went to look at where

he had ploughed, had sown

taken all the pains:

barley grew as he wanted

ears pointing six ways

and stems with three joints.

There the old Väinämöinen

looks and turns round.

A spring cuckoo came

Saw the birch growing:

'Why has that been left -

the birch tree unfelled?'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'This is why it has been left

the birch tree growing -

for you, for a calling-tree.

There call now, cuckoo

and carol, fine-breast

warble, silver-breast

tin-breast,* tinkle forth!

Call evenings and call mornings

once at midday too

that my weather may be fair

my forests pleasant

my shores prosperous

my sides full of corn!'

3. The Singing Match

Steady old Väinämöinen

is living his times

in those glades of Väinö-land

on the Kalevala heaths

is singing his tales

singing, practising his craft.

He sang day by day

night by night he recited

ancient memories

those deep Origins

which not all the children sing

only fellows understand

in this evil age

with time running out.

Far and wide the news is heard

outward the tidings travel

of Väinämöinen's singing

the fellow's cunning;

the tidings travelled southward

the news reached Northland.

Now, the young Joukahainen

a lean Lappish lad

once went visiting

and he heard of wondrous words

of songs being put about

better ones being set forth

in those glades of Väinö-land

on the Kalevala heaths

than the ones he knew himself

he had learned from his father.

He took that very badly

spent all his time envying

Väinämöinen, said to be

a better singer than him.

Now he came to his mother

his honoured parent

and announced that he would go

said he hoped to come

to those Väinö-land cabins

to take on Väinö.

The father forbade his son

father forbade, mother banned

his going to Väinö-land

to take on Väinö:

'There you will be sung*

you'll be sung and chanted, face

into snow, head into drifts

fists into hard air

until your hands cannot turn

until your feet cannot move.'

The young Joukahainen said:

'My father's wisdom is good

my mother's even better

but my own is the highest.

If I want to draw level

measure up to men

I'll sing at who sings at me

and recite at who recites at me

I'll sing at the best singer

till he is the worst singer -

on his feet sing shoes of stone

trousers of wood on his loins

a stone anchor on his breast

a stone slab on his shoulders

mittens of stone on his hands

on his head a rock helmet.'

3:67-137

At that he left, did not heed.

He took off his own gelding

whose muzzle struck fire

and whose shanks struck sparks

harnessed the fiery gelding

in front of the golden sleigh.

He sits in the sledge

settles in his sleigh

struck the courser with the lash

hit it with the beaded whip

and off the courser galloped

the horse dashed away.

He swishes along

he drove one day, he drove two

soon he drove a third as well.

Now upon the third day he

reached the glades of Väinö-land

the heaths of Kalevala.

Steady old Väinämöinen the everlasting wise man*

was driving along his roads

pacing out his ways

in those glades of Väinö-land

on the Kalevala heaths.

The young Joukahainen came

drove down the road to face him:

shaft seized on shaft-end

traces tangled with traces

hames were jammed with hames

and collar-bow tip with tip.

Then and there was a full stop

a full stop, a pause for thought ...

sweat poured from the collar-bow

from the shafts steam rose.

The old Väinämöinen asked:

'Of what kin are you

coming foolishly forward

this way recklessly

smashing the hames of bent wood

the collar-bows of young wood

my sleigh to splinters

into bits the toboggan?'

Then the young Joukahainen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I am young Joukahainen.

But say what your own kin is:

of what kin are you

of what rabble, wretch?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

thereupon said who he was

and then he declared:

'Since you're young Joukahainen

draw aside a bit!

You're younger than me.'

Then the young Joukahainen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Not a bit does a man's youth

his youth or his age matter!

Who is better in wisdom

mightier in recalling -

let him stand fast on the road

the other shift off the road.

If you're old Väinämöinen

the everlasting singer

let us start singing

begin reciting

with man testing man

one defeating the other!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Well now, what of me

3:138-208

as singer, as cunning man?

I've lived all my time only

in these glades, at these edges

of the home-field, listening

to the home-cuckoo.

Be that as it may

tell me that my ears may hear:

what do you know most about

understand above others?'

The young Joukahainen said:

'Well, I know a thing or two!

This I know plainly

and grasp thoroughly:

the smoke-hole is in the roof

the flame in the hearth.

The seal enjoys a good life

the water-dog rolls about:

it eats salmon close by it

whitefish at its side.

The whitefish's fields are smooth

the salmon's roof is level.

The pike spawns during the frost

slobber-chops in hard weather.

The perch, shy, crook-necked

in autumn swims in the deep

in summer spawns on dry land

thrashes about on the shores.

'Should not enough come of that

I know other wisdom too

I am aware of one thing:

the north ploughed with the reindeer

the south with the mare

far Lapland with the wild ox.

I know trees on Pisa Hill

the firs on the Demon's Cliff:

tall the trees on Pisa Hill

and the firs on Demon's Cliff.

Three there are of steep

rapids, three great lakes

and three high mountains

under this sky's vault:

in Häme* are Halla Falls

Kaatra in Karelia;

but none has conquered Vuoksi*

nor gone over Imatra.'*

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Child's wisdom, woman's recall

is for no bearded fellow

nor for a man with a wife!

Tell me of deep Origins

of eternal things!'

Young Joukahainen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I know of the tomtit's Origin

that the tomtit is a bird

the green viper is a snake

the ruff is a fish.

Iron I know is brittle

black soil is bitter

and hot water hurts

and a burn is bad.

Water is the oldest of ointments

rapid-foam of remedies

and the Lord of soothsayers

and God of healers.

A mountain is water's Origin

and fire's Origin is heaven

the source of iron is rust

and copper's root is a cliff.

A wet hummock is the oldest land

a willow the first of trees

3:209-278

a fir root first of dwellings

and a stone the first crude pot.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Do you recall any more

or has your babble ended?'

The young Joukahainen said:

'I recall a bit more too!

Now, I recall such a time

as I was ploughing the sea

grubbing the sea's gulfs

digging the fish-troughs

deepening the depths

laying out the pool-waters

stirring up the hills

piling up the crags.

What's more, I was the sixth man

the seventh fellow

when this earth was made

when the sky was built

when the sky's pillar was fixed

when heaven's arch was borne up

when the moon was moved

when the sun was helped

when the Great Bear was stretched out

when heaven was filled with stars.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Truly you have lied!

You were never seen

when the sea was ploughed

the sea's gulfs were grubbed

the fish-troughs were dug

the depths were deepened

the pool-waters were laid out

the hills were stirred up

and the crags piled up

nor yet were you seen

neither seen nor heard

when this earth was made

when the sky was built

when the sky's pillar was fixed

when heaven's arch was borne up

when the moon was moved

when the sun was helped

when the Great Bear was stretched out

when heaven was filled with stars.'

Young Joukahainen

at that put this into words:

'Since I do not have the wits

I shall ask wits of my sword.

Old Väinämöinen

singer with the gaping mouth

let the sword decide

go with the brand's view!'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'I shall not much fear

those swords of yours, wits of yours

those ice-picks, those tricks of yours.

Be that as it may

I'll not let the sword decide

with you, you mean boy

with yourself, poor wretch.'

At that young Joukahainen

twisted his mouth, turned his head

and twisted his black whiskers

and he put this into words:

'Who'll not let the sword decide

and not go with the brand's view

I will sing into a pig

put into a low-snouted

3:279-350

and I will treat such fellows

that one thus and this one so -

will tread into a dunghill

dump in a cowshed corner.'

Väinämöinen grew angry

at that, angry and ashamed.

He himself started singing

himself began reciting:

the songs are not children's songs

children's songs, women's cackle

but for a bearded fellow

which not all the children sing

nor do half the boys

nor a third of the suitors

in this evil age

with time running out.

The old Väinämöinen sang:

the lakes rippled, the earth shook

the copper mountains trembled

the sturdy boulders rumbled

the cliffs flew in two

the rocks cracked upon the shores.

He sang young Joukahainen -

saplings on his collar-bow

a willow shrub on his hames

goat willows on his trace-tip

sang his gold-trimmed sleigh

sang it to treetrunks in pools

sang his whip knotted with beads

to reeds on a shore

sang his blaze-browed horse

to rocks on a rapid's bank;

he sang his gold-hilted sword

to lightnings in heaven

then his bright-butted crossbow

to rainbows upon waters

and then his feathered arrows

to swift-flying hawks

and then his dog of hooked jaw

to rocks on the ground;

he sang the cap off his head

to a piled-up bank of cloud

sang the mittens off his hands

to lilies on a still pool

then his blue cloth coat

to vapours in heaven

from his waist the fine-wove belt

to stars across heaven;

he sang him, Joukahainen

in a swamp up to his waist

in a meadow to his groin

in the heath to his armpits.

By now young Joukahainen

knew and realized -

knew that he had come this way

undertaken the journey

to take on, to sing

with the old Väinämöinen.

He worked his foot free

but could not lift it;

so he tried the other too

but it wore a shoe of stone.

Then for young Joukahainen

things become painful

things turn out more troublesome.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Shrewd Väinämöinen

O everlasting wise man

whirl your holy words around

take back your phrases:

get me out of this tight spot

from this matter set me free!

3:351-416

I will lay down the best price

pay the heaviest ransom.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'All right, what will you give me

if I whirl my holy words

around, take back my phrases

get you out of that tight spot

from that matter set you free?'

The young Joukahainen said:

'Well, I have two bows

two handsome crossbows:

one is quick to strike

one has a straight aim.

Take either of them!'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'I don't care for your crossbows

wild one, for your bows, mean one!

I have some myself

stacked up against every wall

stored on every peg:

without men they go hunting

without fellows work outdoors.'

He sang young Joukahainen

sang him still deeper.

The young Joukahainen said:

'Well, I have two craft

two beautiful boats:

one is light to race

one carries a lot.

Take either of them!'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'I do not care for your craft

for your boats I don't complain!

I have some myself

hauled up on every roller

and laid up in every cove:

one is steady in the wind

one makes way in bad weather.'

He sang young Joukahainen

sang him still deeper.

The young Joukahainen said:

'I have two stallions

two handsome horses:

one runs more nimbly

one frisks in traces.

Take either of them!'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'I don't care for your horses

grieve for your white-fetlocked ones!

I have some myself

tied up in every manger

led into every barnyard

with clear water on their backs

with pools of fat on their rumps.'*

He sang young Joukahainen

sang him still deeper.

The young Joukahainen said:

'Old Väinämöinen

whirl your holy words around

take back your phrases! I'll give

a helmetful of gold coins

a felt hatful of silver -

my father's war-spoils

brought home from battle.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'I don't care for your silver

3:417-488

nor ask, wretch, for your gold coins!

I have some myself

crammed in every shed

stored in every box -

gold eternal as the moon

silver ancient as the sun.'

He sang young Joukahainen

sang him still deeper.

The young Joukahainen said:

'Old Väinämöinen

get me out of this tight spot

from this matter set me free!

I will give my ricks at home

surrender my sandy fields

to save my own skin

to redeem myself.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'I do not yearn for your ricks

rascal, for your sandy fields!

I have some myself -

fields in every direction

ricks in every glade

and my own are better fields

my own ricks sweeter.'

He sang young Joukahainen

sang him even further down.

Then the young Joukahainen

was at his wits' end

up to his chin in the slime

to his beard in the bad place

to his mouth in swamp mosses

his teeth stuck in a treetrunk.

And young Joukahainen said:

'Shrewd Väinämöinen

O everlasting wise man

sing your song backwards

spare yet a weak life

and get me away from here!

Now the stream tugs at my foot

the sand is grinding my eyes.

If you whirl your holy words

around and call off your spell

I'll give Aino my sister

I will yield my mother's child

to clean out your hut

and to sweep your floor

rinse your wooden plates

to wash out your cloaks

weave your golden cloak

bake your honey-bread.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

was utterly delighted

to have Joukahainen's maid

care for him in his old age.

He sits on the rock of joy*

on the song-boulder settles:

he sang one moment, sang two

sang a third moment as well

whirled his holy words away

took back his phrases.

Young Joukahainen was free

with his chin out of the slime

his beard out of the bad place

the horse from the rapid-rock

the sledge from the shore treetrunk

and the whip from the shore reed.

He clambered into his sleigh

flung himself into his sledge

went away in bad spirits

with a gloomy heart

to his dear mother

towards his honoured parent.

3:489-560

He rumbles along

he drove home oddly

smashed his sledge against the kiln

the shafts to bits on the steps.

His mother began to guess

and his father says a word:

'Needlessly you've smashed your sledge

on purpose broken the shaft!

So why do you ride oddly

come home stupidly?'

At that young Joukahainen

weeps a flood of tears

his head down, in bad spirits

helmet all askew

his lips grimly set

his nose drooped over his mouth.

His mother hastened to ask

the pains-taker to question:

'Why do you weep, my offspring

fruit of my youth, why lament?

Why are your lips grimly set

your nose drooped over your mouth?'

The young Joukahainen said:

'O mother who carried me!

Cause has arisen

and magic has taken place -

cause enough for me to weep

magic for me to lament!

For this I'll weep all my days

grieve my lifetime through:

I have given my sister

Aino, pledged my mother's child

to care for Väinämöinen

to be mate to the singer

refuge for the dodderer

shelter for the nook-haunter.'

The mother rubbed her

two palms together;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Don't weep, my offspring!

There is nothing to weep for

to grieve greatly for:

this I've hoped for all my days

longed my lifetime through -

a great man for my

kin, a bold man for my stock;

Väinämöinen for my son-in-law

the singer for my brother-in-law.'*

Young Joukahainen's sister

for her part fell to weeping.

She wept one day, she wept two

sideways on the steps:

she wept from great grief

and from low spirits.

Her mother began to say:

'Why do you weep, my Aino

when you will come to a great

bridegroom's, a lofty man's home

to sit at windows

prattle on benches?'

The daughter put this in words:

'O mother who carried me!

I have something to weep for -

the beauty of my tresses

the thickness of my young locks

and the fineness of my hair

if they're hidden while I'm small

covered while I am growing.

For this I'll weep all my days -

for the sweetness of the sun

for the splendid moonlight's grace

for all the sky's loveliness

3:561-4:32

if while young I must leave them

as a child leave them behind

to my brother's carving-grounds

to my father's window seats.'

The mother says to the girl

the eldest spoke to her child:

'Begone, madcap, with your cares

good-for-nothing, with your tears!

There is no cause to be glum

no reason to be downcast.

God's sun also shines

elsewhere in the world -

not at your father's windows

your brother's gateway.

There are berries on a hill

and in glades strawberries too

for you, luckless one, to pick

further afield, not always

in your father's glades, upon

your brother's burnt-over heaths.'

4. The Drowned Maid

Now, that Aino, the young maid

young Joukahainen's sister

went for a broom from the grove

and for bath-whisks* from the scrub;

broke off one for her father

another for her mother

gathered a third too

for her full-blooded brother.

She was just stepping homeward

tripping through alders

when old Väinämöinen came.

He saw the maid in the grove

the fine-hemmed in the grasses

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Don't for anyone, young maid

except me, young maid

wear the beads around your neck

set the cross upon your breast

put your head into a braid

bind your hair with silk!'

The maid put this into words:

'Not for you nor anyone

do I wear crosses upon

my breast, tie my hair with silk.

I don't care for cogware,* for

wheat slices I don't complain:

I live in tight clothes

I grow on breadcrusts

by my good father

with my dear mother.'

She wrenched the cross from her breast

and the rings from her finger

4:33-98

the beads she shook from her neck

and the red threads off her head

left them on the ground for the ground's sake

in the grove for the grove's sake

and went weeping home

wailing to the farm.*

Her father at the window

sat adorning an axe haft:

'Why are you weeping, poor girl

poor girl, young maiden?'

'I have cause to weep

woes to complain of!

For this I weep, my papa

for this I weep and complain:

the cross came loose from my breast

the bauble shook from my belt

from my breast the silver cross

the copper threads off my belt.'

Her brother at the gateway

is carving collar-bow wood:

'Why do you weep, poor sister

poor sister, young maid?'

'I have cause to weep

woes to complain of!

For this I weep, poor brother

for this I weep and complain:

the ring slipped off my finger

and the beads fell from my neck

the gold ring from my finger

from my neck the silver beads.'

Her sister at the floor seam

is weaving a belt of gold:

'Why do you weep, poor sister

poor sister, young maid?'

'The weeper has cause

she who whines has woes!

For this I weep, poor sister

for this I weep and complain:

the gold came loose from my brows

and the silver from my hair

and the blue silks from my eyes

the red ribbons off my head.'

Her mother on the shed step

is skimming cream off the milk:

'Why are you weeping, poor girl

poor girl, young maiden?'

'O mamma who carried me

O mother who suckled me!

There are dark causes

very low spirits!

For this I weep, poor mother

for this, mamma, complain: I

went for a broom from the grove

for bath-whisk tips from the scrub

broke off one for my father

another for my mother

gathered a third too

for my full-blooded brother.

I began to step homeward

was just stepping through the glade

when from the dell, from the land

burnt over, the Great One* said:

"Don't for anyone, poor maid

except me, poor maid

wear the beads around your neck

set the cross upon your breast

4:99-170

put your head into a braid

bind your hair with silk!"

I wrenched the cross from my breast

the beads I shook from my neck

and the blue threads from my eyes

and the red threads off my head

cast them on the ground for the ground's sake

in the grove for the grove's sake

and I put this into words:

"Not for you nor anyone

do I wear the cross upon

my breast, tie my head with silk.

I don't care for cogware, for

wheat slices I don't complain:

I live in tight clothes

I grow on breadcrusts

by my good father

with my dear mother."'

The mother put this in words

the eldest spoke to her child:

'Don't weep, my daughter

fruit of my youth, don't lament!

One year eat melted butter:

you'll grow plumper than others;

the next year eat pork:

you'll grow sleeker than others;

a third year eat cream pancakes:

you'll grow fairer than others.

Step to the shed on the hill

open the best shed:

there is chest on top of chest

and box beside box.

Open the best chest

slam the bright lid back:

inside are six golden belts

and seven blue skirts

all woven by Moon-daughter

finished off by Sun-daughter.

'Long since, when I was a maid

and lived as a lass, I went

for berries in the forest

raspberries under the slope.

I heard Moon-daughter weaving

Sun-daughter spinning

beside blue backwoods

at the edge of a sweet grove.

I went up to them

I came close, approached;

I began to beg of them

I uttered and said:

"Give, Moon-daughter, of your gold

Sun-daughter, of your silver

to this girl who has nothing

to this child who begs!"

Moon-daughter gave of her gold

Sun-daughter of her silver:

I put the gold on my brows

on my head the good silver

and came home a flower

to my father's yards a joy.

I wore them for one day, two

till on the third day

I stripped the gold from my brows

from my head the good silver

took them to the hilltop shed

put them under the chest lid:

there they have been ever since

all this time unlooked upon.

'Bind now the silks to your eyes

and to your brows lift the gold

around your neck the bright beads

the gold crosses on your breasts!

4:171-243

Put on a shirt of linen

one of hempen lawn on top;

pull on a skirt of broadcloth

on top of it a silk belt

fine stockings of silk

handsome leather shoes!

Twine your hair into a braid

tie it with ribbons of silk

on your fingers put gold rings

and on your hands gold bracelets!

Like that you will come back home

you will step in from the shed

to be your kinsfolk's sweetness

the softness of all your clan:

you will walk the lanes a flower

you will roam a raspberry

more graceful than you once were

better than you were before.'

The mother put that in words

that's what she said to her child

but the daughter did not heed

did not hear the mother's words:

she went weeping to the yard

pining into the farmyard.

She says with this word

she spoke with this speech:

'How do the lucky ones feel

and how do the blessed think?

This is how the lucky feel

how the blessed think -

like water stirring

or a ripple on a trough.

But how do the luckless feel

and how do the calloos think?

This is how the luckless feel

how the calloos think -

like hard snow under a ridge

like water in a deep well.

Often in my gloom

now, often, a gloomy child

my mood is to tread dead grass

and through undergrowth to crawl

on turf to loiter

in a bush to roll about -

my mood no better than tar

my heart no whiter than coal.

Better it would be for me

and better it would have been

had I not been born, not grown

not sprung to full size

in these evil days

in this joyless world.

Had I died a six-night-old

and been lost an eight-night-old

I would not have needed much -

a span of linen

a tiny field edge

a few tears from my mother

still fewer from my father

not even a few from my brother.'

She wept one day, she wept two.

Her mother began to ask:

'Why are you weeping, poor lass

why, woebegone, complaining?'

'This is why I, poor lass, weep

all my time complain:

you have given luckless me

and your own child you have pledged

made me care for an old man

gladden an aged man, be

refuge for a dodderer

shelter for a nook-haunter.

Sooner had you bidden me

4:244-316

go below the deep billows

to be sister to whitefish

and brother to the fishes!

Better to be in the sea

to dwell below the billows

to be sister to whitefish

and brother to the fishes

than to care for an old man

be a dodderer's refuge

one who trips on his stockings

who falls over a dry twig.'

Then she stepped to the shed-hill

stepped inside the shed

opened the best chest

slammed the bright lid back

and she found six golden belts

and seven blue skirts

and she put them on

she decks her body.

She set the gold on her brows

the silver upon her hair

the blue silks upon her eyes

the red threads upon her head.

Then she stepped away

across one glade, along two;

she roamed swamps, roamed lands

roamed gloomy backwoods.

She sang as she went

uttered as she roamed:

'In my heart there is a hurt

in my head there is an ache

but the hurt would not hurt more

and the ache would not more ache

if I, hapless, were to die

were cut off, mean one

from these great sorrows

from these low spirits.

Now would be the time for me

to part from this world -

the time to go to Death, the

age to come to Tuonela:

father would not weep for me

mother would not take it ill

sister's face would not be wet

brother's eyes would not shed tears

though I rolled in the water

fell into the fishy sea

down below the deep billows

upon the black mud.'

She stepped one day, she stepped two

till on the third day

she came upon sea

faced a reedy shore:

there the night overtakes her

the dark detains her.

There the lass wept all evening

whimpered all night long

on a wet rock on the shore

at the broad bay-end.

Early in the morning she

looked out at a headland's tip:

three maids at the headland's tip

there were, bathing in the sea!

The maid Aino would be fourth

and the slip of a girl fifth!

She cast her shirt on willow

her skirt upon an aspen

her stockings on the bare ground

her shoes upon the wet rock

her beads on the sandy shore

her rings upon the shingle.

A rock was bright on the main

a boulder glittering gold:

4:317-389

she strove to swim to the rock

she would flee to the boulder.

Then, when she got there

she sits herself down

upon the bright rock

on the glittering boulder:

the rock plopped in the water

the boulder sank down

the maid with the rock

Aino beside the boulder.

That is where the hen was lost

there the poor lass died.

She said while she was dying

spoke as she was still rolling:

'I went to bathe in the sea

arrived to swim in the main

and there I, a hen, was lost

I, a bird, untimely died:*

let not my father

ever in this world

draw any fishes

from this mighty main!

I went to wash at the shore

I went to bathe in the sea

and there I, a hen, was lost

I, a bird, untimely died:

let not my mother

ever in this world

put water in dough

from the broad home-bay!

I went to wash at the shore

I went to bathe in the sea

and there I, a hen, was lost

I, a bird, untimely died:

let not my brother

ever in this world

water his war-horse

upon the seashore!

I went to wash at the shore

I went to bathe in the sea

and there I, a hen, was lost

I, a bird, untimely died:

let not my sister

ever in this world

wash her eyes here, at

the home-bay landing!

Waters of the sea

so much blood of mine;

fishes of the sea

so much flesh of mine;

brushwood on the shore

is a poor one's ribs;

grasses of the shore

are her tousled hair.'

Such the death of the young maid

end of the fair little hen.

Who now will carry the news

will tell it by word of mouth

to the maid's famous

home, to the fair farm?

A bear will carry the news

will tell it by word of mouth!

But the bear does not: it was

lost among a herd of cows.

Who now will carry the news

will tell it by word of mouth

to the maid's famous

home, to the fair farm?

A wolf will carry the news

will tell it by word of mouth!

But the wolf does not: it was

lost among a flock of sheep.

Who now will carry the news

4:390-461

will tell it by word of mouth

to the maid's famous

home, to the fair farm?

A fox will carry the news

will tell it by word of mouth!

But the fox does not: it was

lost among a flock of geese.

Who now will carry the news

Will tell it by word of mouth

to the maid's famous

home, to the fair farm?

A hare will carry the news

will tell it by word of mouth!

The hare said for sure: 'The news

will not be lost on this man!'

And the hare ran off

the long-ear lolloped

the wry-leg rushed off

the cross-mouth careered

to the maid's famous

home, to the fair farm.

To the sauna threshold it

ran, on the threshold it squats.

The sauna is full of maids;

whisks in hand they greet: 'Sly one

have you come here to be cooked

pop-eye, to be roasted for

the master's supper

the mistress's meal

for the daughter's snacks

or for the son's lunch?'

The hare manages to say

and the round-eye to speak out:

'Perhaps the Devil has come

to stew in the pans!

I have come carrying news

to tell it by word of mouth:

the fair has fallen

the tin-breast has pined away

sunken the silver-buckle

the copper-belt slipped away -

gone into the wanton sea

down to the vast deeps

to be sister to whitefish

and brother to the fishes.'

The mother started weeping

and a stream of tears rolling

and then she began to say

the woebegone to complain:

'Don't, luckless mothers

ever in this world

don't lull your daughters

or rock your children

to marry against their will

as I, a luckless mother

have lulled my daughters

reared my little hens.'

The mother wept, a tear rolled:

her plentiful waters rolled

out of her blue eyes

to her luckless cheeks.

One tear rolled, another rolled

her plentiful waters rolled

from her luckless cheeks

to her ample breasts.

One tear rolled, another rolled

her plentiful waters rolled

from her ample breasts

upon her fine hems.

One tear rolled, another rolled

her plentiful waters rolled

down from her fine hems

4:462-518

upon her red-topped stockings.

One tear rolled, another rolled

her plentiful waters rolled

down from her red-topped stockings

to her gilded shoe-uppers.

One tear rolled, another rolled

her plentiful waters rolled

from her gilded shoe-uppers

to the ground beneath her feet;

they rolled to the ground for the ground's sake

to the water for the water's sake.

The waters reaching the ground

began to form a river

and three rivers grew

from the tears she wept

that came from her head

that went from beneath her brow.

In each river grew

three fiery rapids;

on each rapid's foam

three crags sprouted up

and on each crag's edge

a golden knoll rose

and on each knoll's peak

there grew three birches;

in each birch's top

there were three golden cuckoos.

The cuckoos started calling:

the first called love, love!

the second bridegroom, bridegroom!

and the third joy, joy!

That which called love, love!

called out for three months

to the loveless girl

lying in the sea;

that which called bridegroom, bridegroom!

called out for six months

to the comfortless bridegroom

sitting and longing;

that which called joy, joy!

called out for all her lifetime

to the mother without joy

weeping all her days.

The mother put this in words

listening to the cuckoo:

'Let a luckless mother not

listen long to the cuckoo!

When the cuckoo is calling

my heart is throbbing

tears come to my eyes

waters down my cheeks

flow thicker than peas

and fatter than beans:

by an ell my life passes

by a span my frame grows old

my whole body is blighted

when I hear the spring cuckoo.'

5. The Mermaid

Now the news had been carried

and the tidings borne abroad

of the young maid's sleep

of the fair one's loss.

Steady old Väinämöinen

he took it badly:

he wept evenings, wept mornings

and nights most of all he wept

that the fair one had fallen

the maid had fallen asleep

gone into the wanton sea

down below the deep billows.

He stepped, full of care and sighs

with a gloomy heart

to the shore of the blue sea;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Tell now, O Dreamer, your dream

O stretched in earth, your vision:

where is Ahto-land

where do his Wave-wife's maids stretch?'

Well, the Dreamer told his dream

the stretched in earth his vision:

'Here is Ahto-land

and here his Wave-wife's maids stretch -

on the misty headland's tip

at the foggy island's end

down below the deep billows

upon the black mud.

There is Ahto-land

and there his Wave-wife's maids stretch -

in a tiny room

a narrow chamber

beside a bright rock

lodged beneath a thick boulder.'

At that old Väinämöinen

dragged himself to the boatyards;

glances at his fishing-lines

and looks over his fish-hooks;

put a hook in his pocket

an iron barb in his bag.

He paddles along

he reaches the island's end

and the misty headland's tip

and the foggy island's end.

There he stayed with the fish-hook

remained with the fishing-line

turned the hand-net to and fro.

He cast the gorge on the sea

he angled, dangled:

the rod of copper trembled

the silver line whirred

and the cord of gold jingled.

On a day among others

one morrow among many

a fish took his hook

a sewin his barb:

he pulled it into his boat

landed it upon his bilge.

He looks, he turns it over

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Now, that is a fishy fish

I never saw the like of! -

rather smooth for a whitefish

rather light-hued for a trout

rather grizzled for a pike

too finless for a spawner;

but weird for a person too -

5:68-139

too bareheaded for a maid

beltless for a water-girl

too earless for a home-bird

too mild for a sea salmon

a perch of the deep billow.'

At his belt Väinämöinen

has a silver-tipped sheath-knife:

he drew the knife from his side

from its sheath the silver-tipped

to divide the fish

cut up the salmon

for meals at morning

for breakfast titbits

for salmon lunches

and for big suppers.

He made to cut the salmon

with the knife to slash the fish:

into the sea the salmon

flashed, the bright fish flared

from the bilge of the red craft

out of Väinämöinen's boat.

Only then it raised its head

and its right shoulder

upon the fifth squall

on the sixth high wave;

held up its right hand

revealed its left foot

on the seventh main

on top of the ninth billow.

From there it put this in words

it declared, chattered:

'O you old Väinämöinen!

I was not to be

a salmon for you to cut

a fish for you to divide

for meals at morning

for breakfast titbits

for salmon lunches

and for big suppers.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'What were you to be?'

'Well, I was to be

a hen tucked under your arm

one who would sit for ever

a lifelong mate on your knee*

to lay out your bed

to place your pillow

to clean your small hut

one to sweep your floor

to bring fire indoors

to kindle your light

to make your thick bread

bake your honey-bread

carry your beer mug

and set out your meal.

I was not a sea salmon

a perch of the deep billow:

I was a girl, a young maid

young Joukahainen's sister

who you hunted all your days

throughout your lifetime longed for.

You wretched old man

you foolish Väinämöinen

for you knew no way to keep

the Wave-wife's watery maid

Ahto's peerless child!'

The old Väinämöinen said

his head down, in bad spirits:

'O Joukahainen's sister!

Come but once again!'

But she did not come again

not ever again:

5:140-213

now she drew back, flopped back, was

lost from the water's surface

within the bright rock

the cleft of the liver-hued.

Steady old Väinämöinen

at that considers

how to be, which way to live.

Now he wove a silken seine

criss-crossed the water

along one strait, across two;

he dragged calm waters

between salmon-crags

those waters of Väinö-land

Kalevala's land-bridges

dragged the gloomy depths

and the main's great poles

the rivers of Jouko-land

and the bay-shores of Lapland.

He caught enough other fish

all kinds of fishes

but he did not catch the fish

he'd set his heart on -

the Wave-wife's watery maid

Ahto's peerless child.

Then the old Väinämöinen

his head down, in bad spirits

helmet all askew

put this into words:

'O madman, for my madness

fool, for my manhood!

Once I had a mind

and thought was given

a great heart crammed full -

that was long ago.

But now, nowadays

in this evil age

this life running short

all my mind is anyhow

my thoughts are priceless*

all my sense is somewhere else.

She I waited for always

and half my lifetime

the Wave-wife's watery maid

the water's latest daughter

to be a friend for ever

and a lifetime's mate

came on to my hook

flopped into my boat:

I could not keep her

carry her off home

but lost again to the waves

down below the deep billows.'

And he went a little way

he stepped, full of care and sighs;

he trudges homeward.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Time was when my cuckoos called

former cuckoos of my joy

used to call evenings, mornings

once at midday too:

what has stifled their great voice

lost their voice so fair?

Grief has stifled their great voice

care brought down their voice so sweet

because no calling is heard

and at sundown no singing

to cheer my evenings

to ease my morrows.

Nor do I know now at all

how to be, which way to live

in this world to dwell

in these lands to roam.

If my mother were alive

my parent awake

5:214-6:31

she would be able to say

how to stand upright

unbroken by griefs

unstricken by cares

in these evil days

in these low spirits!'

From the grave his mother heard

from below the wave answered:

'Your mother is still alive

your parent awake

she who is able to say

how to be all right

unbroken by griefs

unstricken by cares

in these evil days

in these low spirits:

go among the North's daughters!

There daughters are comelier

maids are twice fairer

five times, six times livelier -

none of Jouko's frumps

gawky children of Lapland.

Get a wife from there, my boy

the best of the North's daughters

who is pretty-eyed

fair to look upon

ever fleet of foot

and brisk of movement!'

6. A Brother's Revenge

Steady old Väinämöinen

intended to go

yonder to the cold village

off to dark Northland.

He took a stallion of straw

a horse of pea stalks

bridled the golden one, put

the silver one's headstall on;

he sat on its back

leapt on, straddled it

and he trots along

paces his journey

astride the stallion of straw

astride the horse of pea stalks.

He rode the Väinö-land glades

the heaths of Kalevala:

the horse ran, the journey sped

his home stays, the road shortened.

Now he rode upon the main

upon the open expanse

without a hoof getting wet

without a fetlock sinking.

As for young Joukahainen

the lean Lappish lad

he bore long hatred

a lasting envy

towards old Väinämöinen

for the eternal singer.

He makes a fiery crossbow

a handsome bow he adorns:

the bow he built of iron

6:32-104

in copper he casts the back;

with gold he trimmed them

in silver worked them.

Where to get a cord for it

where to find a string? -

from the sinews of the Demon's elk

from the Devil's hempen threads!

And he finished off his bow

made his crossbow quite ready.

The bow was fair to look on

the crossbow somewhat costly:

a horse stood upon its back

a foal ran along the butt

a girl lay upon the bow

and a hare where the rack was.*

And he cut a stack of darts

a pile of three-feathered ones

and the shafts he shapes in oak

the tips he makes of tar-wood.

What he makes ready

he puts feathers on -

small feathers of a swallow

tail feathers of a sparrow;

and he hardened his arrows

he tempered his darts

in black worm poison

in a snake's venomous blood;

and he made the bolts ready

the crossbow fit to be drawn.

Then he waited for Väinämöinen

to catch him of Calm Waters;

waited evening and morning

waited once at noon;

long he waited for Väinämöinen

long he waited unweary

sitting at windows

watching at the ends of huts

listening behind the lane

on his guard in the acre

the quiverful on his back

the good bow under his arm;

he waited further out too

on the far side of next door

on a fiery headland's tip

under a fiery cape's arm

on a fiery rapid's brink

upon a holy stream's bank.

So one day among others

one morrow among many

he cast his eyes north-west, turned

his head to below the sun

spied a black speck on the sea

something bluish on the waves:

'In the east is that a cloud

the sunrise in the north-east?'

In the east it was no cloud

no sunrise in the north-east:

it was old Väinämöinen

the everlasting singer

heading for Northland

making for Darkland

astride the stallion of straw

astride the horse of pea stalks.

Now, that young Joukahainen

the lean Lappish lad

prepared the fiery crossbow

grabbed the fairest bow

meant for Väinämöinen's head

to slay him of Calm Waters.

His mother hastened to ask

and his parent to inquire:

'Who is the crossbow primed for

the iron bow ready for?'

6:105-177

Now, that young Joukahainen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'The crossbow is primed for him

the iron bow is ready -

meant for Väinämöinen's head

to slay him of Calm Waters.

I'll shoot old Väinämöinen

down the eternal singer

through the heart, by the liver

and cleaving the shoulder flesh.'

Mother forbade him to shoot

his mother forbade and banned:

'Do not shoot Väinämöinen

or fell Kalevala's man!

Väinö is of great kin, my

brother-in-law's sister's son.

Should you shoot Väinämöinen

and fell Kalevala's man

joy would be lost from the world

and song would fall from the earth.

Joy is better in the world

song more fitting on the earth

than in the Dead Lands

those cabins of Tuonela.'

With that young Joukahainen

now considers a little

and ponders a bit:

his hand bade him shoot

one hand bade and one forbade

his sinewy fingers ached.

At last he put this in words

he declared, spoke thus:

'Though it were twice over, let

all our worldly joys be lost

let all the songs fall!

No, I'll shoot, I'll not beware.'

He tensed the fiery crossbow

drew the copper wheel

against his left knee

from underneath his right foot

from the quiver drew a bolt

a feather from the three-shank

he took the swiftest arrow

chose the one with the best shaft

placed this in the groove

joined it to the hemp bowstring

aligned the fiery crossbow

on his right shoulder

and places himself to shoot -

to shoot at Väinämöinen and he put this into words:

'Strike now, birch-tipped one

pine-backed one, now smite

hemp bowstring, hit hard:

where my hand may dip

let the arrow lift;

where my hand may lift

let the arrow dip!'

He touched the trigger

shot the first arrow:

it went very high

overhead to heaven

to the hurtling clouds

the whirling vapours.

Still he shot, did not heed, shot

another of his arrows:

it went very low

into mother earth below;

the earth wished to go to Death

the shady ridge to be cleft.

Soon he shot a third as well:

it travelled straight the third time

into the blue elk's shoulder

6:178-234

beneath old Väinämöinen;

he shot the stallion of straw

the horse of pea stalks

through its bladebone flesh

by its left foreleg.

At that old Väinämöinen

dives fingers first in the wet

turned hands first into the wave

fists first plunged into the foam

from the back of the blue elk

the horse of pea stalks.

Then a great wind rose

a rough billow on the sea;

it bore old Väinämöinen

and washed him further from land

out on to those wide waters

to the open expanses.

With that young Joukahainen

boasted with his tongue:

'Never, old Väinämöinen

never more with eyes alive

never in this world

not in a month of Sundays*

will you tread Väinö-land's glades

the heaths of Kalevala!

Bob there now six years

ride seven summers

and drift for eight years

on those wide waters

upon the vast waves -

six years as spruce wood

seven as pine wood

as a stump-log eight!'

Then he slipped indoors.

His mother began to ask:

'Have you shot Väinämöinen

lost the son of Kaleva?'

Well, that young Joukahainen

says words in answer:

'Yes, I've shot Väinämöinen

felled the Kalevala man

made him broom the sea

made him sweep the wave.

In that wanton sea

in the midst of the billows

the old man on his fingers

has sunk, has turned on his palms;

there he has slumped on his side

on his back has stopped, to be

driven by the sea's billows

to be steered by the sea surf.'

The mother put this in words:

'You did wrong, you luckless one

when you shot Väinämöinen

lost the Kalevala man

the great man of Calm Waters

fairest of Kalevala!'

7. The Castaway

Steady old Väinämöinen

swims the vasty deeps

moved as a rotting spruce trunk

a rotting pine stump

for six summer days

six nights in a row

before him the slack water

and behind him a clear sky.

He swims two nights more

and two of the longest days

till on the ninth night

at the eighth day's end

he feels a great pain

pressing till it hurts

for there's no nail on his toes

and on his fingers no joint.

At that old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Woe is me, a luckless boy

woe, a boy down on his luck

that I went from my own lands

the lands where I used to live

to be for ever

in the open, night and day

to be lulled by wind

to be driven by billows

on these wide waters

these open expanses! 'Tis

chilly for me to be here

woeful for me to shiver

always on billows to dwell

on the main to float.

Neither do I know

how to be, which way to live

in this evil age

with time running out:

shall I build my cabin on the wind

on the water shall I carve my hut?

If I build my cabin on the wind

on the wind is no support;

if I carve my hut on the water

the water will bear it off.'

A bird flew out of Lapland

an eagle from the north-east -

not a great big eagle, nor

a little tiny eagle:

one wing ruffled the water

and the other swept the sky

its tail skimmed the sea

and its beak clattered on crags.

It flutters, it glides

it looks, it turns round;

it saw old Väinämöinen

on the blue high seas:

'Why, man, are you in the sea

fellow, among the billows?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'This is why I'm a man in the sea

a fellow amid billows:

I'm off for a Northland maid

for a Darkland lass.

I was galloping

along the unfrozen sea

till one day among others

one morrow among many

I reached Cragland Bay

Jouko-land's river waters:

from under me my horse was

7:70-141

shot, someone was after me.

Then I flopped in the water

sank fingers first in the wave

to be lulled by wind

to be driven by billows.

A wind came from the north-west

out of the east a big squall;

it had me borne far away

and washed me further from land.

Many days I have struggled

and many nights swum about

on these wide waters

on these open expanses;

neither can I know

guess nor understand

which death is to come

which will arrive first -

yielding to hunger

or sinking in the water.'

The eagle, bird of the air

said: 'Don't you worry at all!

Get up on my back

rise upon my wingbone tips!

I'll carry you from the sea

where you have a mind to go.

I still remember that day

and think of the better time

when you cleared Kaleva's trees

and slashed Osmo-land's backwoods:

you left a birch tree growing

a fine tree standing

for birds to rest on

for me to sit on.'

Old Väinämöinen

then lifts up his poll;

the man rises from the sea

the fellow from the billow comes up

on its wings places himself

on the eagle's wingbone tips.

That eagle, bird of the air

carried old Väinämöinen

bears him along the wind's road

along the gale's path

to the furthest North

to dreary Sariola.

There it left Väinämöinen

and soared off into the sky;

and there Väinämöinen wept

there he wept and groaned

upon a seashore

whose name was unknown

a hundred wounds in his side

by a thousand winds battered

his beard too the worse for wear

and his hair in a tangle.

He wept two, three nights

the same number of days too;

did not know the way to go

nor, a stranger, know the route

for returning home

to go to familiar lands

to those places of his birth

the lands where he used to live.

A tiny wench of the North

a fair-skinned woman

made a bargain with the sun

with the sun and with the moon

that at the same time

as they rose, she would awake;

but she made it before them

before the moon, the sunlight -

without even the cockcrow

7:142-213

or the song of the hen's child.

Five fleeces she sheared

six sheepfuls she teased, she made

the fleeces into homespun;

she worked all up into clothes

before the sun rose

before the sunlight came up.

Then she washed the long tables

the wide floors she swept

with a brush of twigs

with a broom of leaves;

she scooped her rubbish

into a small copper box

which she took out through the door

to the field beside the yard

out to the furthest field's end

out to the lowest fence gap.

She stood on the rubbish heap

she listened, she turned around:

she hears weeping from the sea

crying across the river.

Running she returns

quickly goes indoors

and she said when she got there

explained when she came:

'I heard weeping from the sea

crying across the river.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

the gap-toothed hag of the North

quickly slipped into the yard

bowled to the gateway;

there with her ears she listens.

She uttered a word, spoke thus:

'That is not a child weeping

and not women complaining;

that is a bearded fellow weeping

a hairy-chinned one crying.'

And she launched a boat

one with three planks on the waves

and started rowing.

She both rowed and sped:

she rowed to Väinämöinen

towards the weeping fellow.

And there Väinämöinen wept

the swain of Calm Waters groaned

by an evil willow brook

a thick clump of bird cherries:

his mouth moved and his beard shook

but his chin did not quiver.

The mistress of Northland said

she talked, she chattered:

'You wretched old man!

Now you are in a strange land.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

makes to lift his head.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Now I know it too:

yes, I am in a strange land

utterly unknown.

In my land I was better

at home loftier.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Might I say something

would I be allowed to ask

what kind of man you may be

what sort of fellow?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Well, I have been talked about

and valued from time to time

as a merrymaker at evening

7:214-284

as a singer everywhere

in those glades of Väinö-land

on the Kalevala heaths;

but how mean I may be now

I myself can hardly tell.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Rise now out of your marsh, man,

fellow, on to a new track

to speak your sorrows

to tell some stories!'

She took the man from weeping

and the fellow from groaning;

brought him from there to her craft

and sat him in the boat's stern.

She settled down at the oars

and straightened herself to row;

she rowed across to Northland

takes him to a strange cabin.

And she fed the hungry one

and the wet one she dried out;

then a long time she rubs him

rubs him and warms him:

she made the man well

the fellow better.

She inquired, she talked

she uttered, spoke thus:

'Why were you weeping, Väinämöinen,

whining, man of Calm Waters

in that evil place

on the shore beside the sea?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I have cause to weep

woes to complain of!

For long I have swum the seas

and shovelled the waves

on those wide waters

on the open expanses.

For this I weep all my days

and throughout my lifetime grieve

that I swam from my own lands

and came from familiar lands

towards these strange doors

to these foreign gates.

All the trees here bite

all the fir sprigs beat

every birch tree knocks

every alder cuts:

only the wind do I know

and the sun have seen before

in these foreign lands

utterly strange doors.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

then came out with this:

'Do not weep, Väinämöinen

don't whine, man of Calm Waters!

'Tis good for you to be here

sweet for you to tarry here

to eat salmon off the plate

and pork beside it.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Strange food goes down the wrong way

even in a good lodging;

in his land a man's better

at home loftier.

If only sweet God would grant

the kind Creator allow

me to come to my own lands

the lands where I used to live!

7:285-352

Better in your own country

even water off your sole

than in a foreign country

honey from a golden bowl.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'So, what will you give me if

I bring you to your own lands

back to your own field

all the way to your sauna?'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'What do you ask of me if

you bring me to my own lands

back to my own field

to where my own cuckoo calls

where my own bird sings? Will you

take a capful of gold coins

a felt hatful of silver?'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Shrewd Väinämöinen

O everlasting wise man

I don't ask for your gold coins

nor do I want your silver:

gold coins are children's playthings

silver coins are horse-trinkets.

If you can forge the Sampo

beat out the bright-lid

from a swan's quill tip

a barren cow's milk

from one barley grain

the wool of one ewe

I'll give you a girl

pay you a maid for wages

I'll bring you to your own lands

where your own bird sings

where your own cockerel is heard

back to your own field.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I cannot forge the Sampo

brighten the bright-lid.

But bring me to my own lands:

I will send Ilmarinen

the smith - he'll forge your Sampo

beat out the bright-lid

suit your maid and make

your daughter happy.

He is quite a smith

the highly skilful craftsman

who has forged the sky

beaten out the lid of heaven

but there is no hammer mark

nor trace of where tongs have gripped.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I will bestow my daughter

on him, pledge my child to him

who forges the dear Sampo

brightens the bright-lid

from a swan's quill tip

a barren cow's milk

from one barley grain

the down of one ewe.'

She put a foal in harness

a bay in front of a sledge

saw old Väinämöinen off

sat him in the stallion's sledge

7:353-8:32

and then she uttered a word

she declared, spoke thus:

'Do not raise your head

nor lift up your poll

while the stallion does not tire

nor evening arrive;

but if you do raise your head

or lift up your poll

then indeed ruin will come

an evil day will befall.'

At that old Väinämöinen

beat the stallion to a run

the hemp-mane into movement

and he rumbles off

out of dark Northland

from dreary Sariola.

8. The Wound

'Twas the fair maid of the North

the land's famous, water's choice

sat on the sky's collar-bow

upon heaven's arch

shimmered in clean clothes

and in white garments;

cloth of gold she is weaving

of silver she is working

from a gold shuttle

with a silver reed.

The shuttle whizzed in her grasp

in her hand the spool swivelled

the heddles of copper creaked

the silver reed slammed

as the maid wove cloth

worked cloth of silver.

Steady old Väinämöinen

is rumbling along

out of dark Northland

from dreary Sariola.

He drove a bit of a way

a tiny way he traced, when

he heard a shuttle buzzing

up above his head.

He lifted his head

glances heavenward:

the arch is fair in the sky

the maid at the arch's edge;

cloth of gold she is weaving

of silver she is tinkling.

Steady old Väinämöinen

stopped his horse at once

8:33-102

and he put this into words

he declared, spoke thus:

'Come, maid, into my

sleigh, step down into my sledge!'

The maid put this into words

she declared and asks:

'Why get a maid into your

sleigh, a girl into your sledge?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

well, he answered that:

'Why get a maid into my

sleigh, a girl into my sledge? -

that she may bake honey-bread

know how to brew beer

sing on every bench

rejoice at every window

on those farms of Väinö-land

in those Kalevala yards.'

The maid put this into words

she declared, chattered: 'As I

walked on the maddery ground

skipped upon the yellow heath

yesterday at evening late

as the sun was going down

a bird carolled in a grove

a fieldfare twittered -

carolled how daughters feel, sang

how a daughter-in-law feels.

I made to say this

and to ask the bird:

"Little fieldfare, sing

that my ears may hear:

whose lot is better

and whose more highly thought of -

a daughter's in father's house, or a

daughter-in-law's in a husband's house?"

Well, the tomtit informed me

the fieldfare twittered:

"Bright a summer day

but a maid's state is brighter;

chilly is iron in frost

chillier a daughter-in-law's state.

A maid in father's house is

like a berry on good land;

daughter-in-law in a husband's house

is like a dog on a chain.

Seldom is a serf cherished;

a daughter-in-law never."'

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Idle are a tomtit's tales

and a fieldfare's twitterings!

A daughter at home's a child;

she's only a maid when wed.*

Come, maid, into my

sleigh, step down into my sledge!

I am not a man of no account

a fellow sleepier than others.'

The maid skilfully answered

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I'd call you a man

I'd reckon you a fellow

if you could split a horsehair

with a pointless knife

pull an egg into a knot

so that the knot did not show.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

splits a horsehair through

with a pointless knife

quite without a tip;

8:103-171

pulls an egg into a knot

so that the knot does not show.

He bade the maid into his

sleigh, the girl into his sledge.

The maid skilfully answered:

'Well, perhaps I'll marry you

when you peel a stone

cut fence poles of ice

without a piece breaking off

or a chip flying.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

does not greatly fret at that:

he just peeled a stone

cut fence poles of ice

without a scrap breaking off

or a chip flying.

He called the maid into his

sleigh, the girl into his sledge.

The maid skilfully answers

and says with this word:

'Well, I'd marry one

who could carve a boat

out of bits of my spindle

from pieces of my drawknife

who could launch the boat

and the new ship on the waves

his knee not nudging

his fist not touching

his arm not turning

his shoulder not reaching out.'

At that old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Not on earth, not in the world

not under all the sky's vault

is there such a boatbuilder

a carver the likes of me.'

He took bits of the distaff

whorls of the spindle

set about carving a boat

building a hundred-planked one

on a steel mountain

on an iron cliff.

Rashly he carved at the boat

the wooden craft recklessly;

he carved one day, he carved two

soon he carved a third as well:

the axe does not touch the rock

nor the blade tip strike the cliff.

So on the third day

the Demon swung the handle

round, the Devil wrenched the blade

the Evil One jogged the haft:

into the rock the axe went

and the blade tip struck the cliff

and the axe bounced off the rock

and the blade slid into flesh

into the worthy boy's knee

into Väinämöinen's toe;

the Devil slipped it upon his flesh

the Demon tried it on his sinews

and the blood spilled out

the gore rippled forth.

Steady old Väinämöinen the everlasting wise man

at that put this into words

he declared and chattered thus:

'O you hook-beaked axe

you hatchet of even blade

did you think you had a tree

8:172-244

to bite, a fir to attack

a pine to put down

a birch to meet with

when you slipped into my flesh

slithered upon my sinews?'

He started then singing charms

began reciting:

he told Origins in depth

and spells in order

but he cannot remember

some of the great iron words

which would prove a bar

serve as a firm lock

against those rents of iron

those slashes of the blue-mouth.

The blood as a river ran

the gore as a rapid roared:

on the ground it covered berry stalks

heather plants upon the heath.

There was no hummock

that was not flooded

by that overflow of blood

of gore that frothed forth

from the true boy's knee

out of Väinämöinen's toe.

Steady old Väinämöinen

snatched some fibres from a rock

from a swamp took some mosses

from the ground a clump he ripped

to block the harsh hole

to stop up the evil gate;

but it will not yield at all

nor a tiny bit hold off.

Well, now things become painful

things turn out more troublesome.

Steady old Väinämöinen

he burst into tears:

he put his foal in harness

the bay in front of the sledge

then flings himself in the sledge

settled in his sleigh.

He lashed the courser

whacked it with the beaded belt:

courser ran and journey sped

the sledge rolled, the road shortened.

Now soon a village

comes up: three roads meet.

Steady old Väinämöinen

drives along the lowest road

to the lowest house.

Over the threshold he asks:

'Might there be one in this house

who treats iron's toil

knows about a fellow's pain

explains injuries?'

There was a child on the floor

a small boy on the stove seat.

This one answers that:

'There is no one in this house

who treats iron's toil

knows about a fellow's pain

takes hold of an ache

explains injuries.

He's in the next house:

drive to the next house!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

he lashed the courser

drives off with a swish.

He drove a bit of a way

along the middlemost road

up to the middlemost house.

He asked back from the threshold

begged from below the window:

8:245-282

'Might there be one in this house

who treats iron's toil

who bars a blood-rain

who checks vein-rapids?'

There was an old hag under a cloak

a gossip on the stove seat

and the hag indeed answered

the three-toothed one clacked:

'There is no one in this house

who treats iron's toil

knows the Origin of blood

takes hold of an ache.

He's in the next house:

drive to the next house!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

he lashed the courser

drives off with a swish.

He drove a bit of a way

along the uppermost road

up to the uppermost house.

Over the threshold he asks

spoke from beyond the rooftree:

'Might there be one in this house

who treats iron's toil

who will block this flood

shut the dreary blood?'

An old man dwelt on the stove*

a greybeard under the ridge.

The old man growled from the stove

the greybeard boomed out:

'Bigger things yet have been shut

greater things yet overcome

with the Creator's three words

the deep Origin's decree -

rivers at mouths, lakes at heads

and furious streams at the neck

bays at the tips of headlands

land-bridges where they taper.'

9. Iron and Blood

At that old Väinämöinen

got out of the sleigh himself

rose from the sledge, was not raised

got up, but was not helped up;

from there comes into the hut

under the roofs makes his way.

A silver flagon is brought

a golden jug is carried:

it will not take a little

not even a drop will hold

of old Väinämöinen's blood

of the mighty fellow's gore.

The old man growled from the stove

the greybeard boomed out:

'What kind of man may you be

what sort of fellow?

Of blood there's seven boatfuls

of bucketfuls eight

luckless, from your knee

fallen to the floor!

Other words I would recall

but cannot work out iron's

Origin, where it was born

or where the hapless dross grew.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I know iron's birth myself

can work out steel's Origin:

air is the first of mothers

water eldest of brothers

iron youngest of brothers

and fire was once the midmost.

That Old Man, high creator

the god of the skies

from the sky parted water

from the water laid out land.

Iron, poor thing, was unborn

unborn and ungrown.

The Old Man, god of the sky

rubbed his two palms together

pressed both together

on his left kneecap

and from that were born three maids

all three daughters of nature

to be mothers of rust-hued iron

conceivers of the blue-mouth.

The maids bounced along

the lasses trod a cloud's rim

with their dugs bursting

their nipples aching:

they squeezed their milk on the earth

they let their dugs burst;

they squeezed on lands, squeezed on

squeezed on calm waters.

One squeezed black milk: she

was the eldest of the maids;

the second spilled white: she was

the middlemost of the maids;

the third showered red: she

was the youngest of the maids.

She who squeezed black milk

from her was born soft iron;

she who squeezed white milk

from her were made things of steel;

she who showered red milk

from her was got pig iron.

'A little time passed.

Iron was eager to meet

9:69-143

its eldest brother

to get to know fire.

Fire started being naughty

it grew to be quite dreadful:

it was burning the luckless

the poor iron, its brother.

But iron managed to hide -

to hide, to keep safe

from that harsh fire's hands

from the mouth of furious flame.

At that and then iron hid

both hid and kept safe

in a moving mire

in a spilling spring

on the largest open swamp

on a harsh fell-top

where the swans lay eggs

and the goose hatches her young.

Iron sprawls out in the swamp

and in the slack place stretches;

it hid one year, it hid two

soon it hid a third as well

between two treestumps

under three roots of a birch.

But no, it did not escape

the harsh hands of fire:

it must come a second time

and go to fire's cabins, while

it was made into a blade

and was forged into a sword.

A wolf ran along the swamp

a bear rambled on the heath;

the swamp moved at the wolf's tread

and the heath at the bear's paws:

there iron rust rose

and a steel rod grew

where the wolf's feet had been, where

the bear's heel had dug.

'Smith Ilmarinen was born

both was born and grew

was born on a hill of coal

grew on a heath of charcoal

holding a copper hammer

gripping tiny tongs.

By night born, Ilmarinen

by day built a workshop: he

sought a spot for the workshop

space for the smithy.

He saw a small strip of swamp

a little damp ground;

he went off to look at it

to inspect it from close by:

there he pressed down his bellows

there set up his forge.

He followed in the wolf's tracks

and where the bear's heel had been;

he saw iron-coloured shoots

and steel-coloured balls of snow

in the wolf's great tracks

the bear's paw-places.

He says with this word:

"Alas for you, poor iron

being in a wretched spot

a lowly dwelling

on the swamp in the wolf's prints

always in the bear's footsteps!"

He thinks, considers:

"What would come of it

if I thrust it in the fire

in the forge set it?"

Poor iron started -

started and took fright

when it heard fire spoken of

fire harshly mentioned.

The smith Ilmarinen said:

9:144-216

"Don't worry at all!

Fire will not burn one it knows

nor abuse its clan.

When you come to fire's cabins

and to flame's fortress

there you will grow to be fair

come up to be most graceful

to be men's good swords

women's ribbon clasps."

'Well, at that day's end

iron was drained from the swamp

from the slack place was stirred up

and brought to the smith's workshop:

the smith thrust it in the fire

down into his forge pushed it.

He puffed once, puffed twice

puffed a third time too:

iron as gruel

lolls, as dross it foams;

it stretched as wheat paste

as dough of rye flour

in the smith's great fires

in the power of naked flame.

At that poor iron cried out:

"Smith Ilmarinen!

Ah, take me away from here

out of the pain of red fire!"

The smith Ilmarinen said:

"If I take you from the fire

perhaps you will grow dreadful

and fly quite into a rage

and even carve your brother

chop your mother's child."

Thereupon poor iron swore -

swore a solemn oath

on the forge, on the anvil

on the hammers, the mallets;

it says with this word

it spoke with this speech:

"There is wood for me to bite

a rock's heart for me to eat

so I'll not carve my brother

chop my mother's child.

'Tis better for me to be

pleasanter for me to live

as a rover's companion

a walking man's tool

than to eat my own kinsman

to abuse my clan."

Then the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

snatched iron out of the fire

set it upon the anvil;

he works it till it is soft

makes it into things with blades

into spears, into axes

into all manner of things.

But still a bit was missing

and poor iron was in need

for iron's tongue will not boil

nor will a steel-mouth be formed

iron will not harden if

it is not steeped in water.

At that smith Ilmarinen

gives some thought to this:

he prepared a bit of ash

and some lye he mixed

into steel-making poison

iron-tempering waters.

The smith tested with his tongue

tasted it to his liking

and he put this into words:

"No, these are no good to me

9:217-290

for steel-making waters, for

working iron things."

'A bee rose up from the ground

a blue-wing from a hummock;

it flutters, it glides

round the smith's workshop.

The smith put this into words:

"O bee, lightweight man

bring mead on your wing

carry honey on your tongue

from six flowery tips

from seven grass tops

for steel things to be made, for

iron to be wrought!"

But a wasp, the Demon's bird

is looking, is listening

looked from the roof edge

from beneath the birch bark gazed

at the iron to be wrought

at the steel things to be made.

It buzzes about;

it tossed the Demon's terrors

carried snake venom

a worm's black poison

an ant's itchy juice

a frog's secret hates

in the steel-making poison

iron-tempering water.

As for smith Ilmarinen

the perpetual craftsman, he

believes, considers

that the bee has come

and has brought honey

and has carried mead.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

"Now then, these are good for me

for the steel-making waters

and for working iron things!"

Thereupon he snatched the steel

thereupon steeped poor iron

as it was brought from the fire

and taken out of the forge.

At that the steel grew evil

iron flew into a rage

and the wretch forsook its oath

ate its honour like a dog:

the poor one carved its brother

held its kinsman in its mouth

freed the blood to spill

the gore to gush forth.'

The old man growled from the stove

the beard sang and the head quaked:

'Now I know the Origin

of iron, I grasp steel's ways.

Alas for you, poor iron

poor iron and hapless dross

and steel, victim of witchcraft!

Is that how you came to be

how you grew to be dreadful

sprang up to be very big?

You were not big then

neither big nor small

not very handsome at all

nor extremely cross

when as milk you lay

as fresh milk languished

in the young maid's teats

grew under the lass's arm

on the edge of the long cloud

beneath level heaven;

nor were you big then

you were neither big nor small

when as ooze you were resting

were standing as clear water

9:291-365

on the largest open swamp

on a harsh fell-top

when you changed there into mud

and turned into rusty soil;

nor were you big then

you were neither big nor small

when elk rubbed you on the swamp

reindeer ground you on the heath

the wolf mashed you with its feet

the bear with its little paws;

nor were you big then

you were neither big nor small

when you were tilled from the swamp

shaped up out of the earth's mud

taken to the smith's workshop

down to Ilmarinen's forge;

nor were you big then

you were neither big nor small

when as dross you were roaring

and rippling as warm water

in harsh fireplaces

and you swore your solemn oath

on the forge, on the anvil

on the hammers, the mallets

on the smith's standing-places

on his forging-grounds.

Have you sprung now to full size

have you turned surly

wretch, have you broken your oath

doglike eaten your honour

now that you have harmed your tribe

held your kinsman in your mouth?

Who told you to work evil

who compelled you to be mean -

your father or your mother

the eldest of your brothers

the youngest of your sisters

or other of your great kin?

Not your father, your mother

the eldest of your brothers

the youngest of your sisters

nor other of your great kin:

you did the foul deed yourself

split the death-coloured open.

Come now, realize your deed

mend your evil ways

before I tell your mother

and to your parent complain!

Mother has more work

great trouble the parent has

when her son does wrong

her child gets up to mischief.

'Hold, blood, your spilling

and gore, your rippling

upon me spraying

spurting on my breast!

Blood, stand like a wall

stay, gore, like a fence

like an iris in a lake

stand, like sedge among moss, like

a boulder at a field edge

a rock in a steep rapid!

But if you should have a mind

to move more swiftly

then move in the flesh

and in the bones glide!

Inside is better for you

beneath the skin is fairer -

coursing through the veins

gliding through the bones

than spilling upon the ground

trickling on the dirt.

Yours, milk, is not to fall down

upon the turf, blameless blood

sweetheart of men, on the grass,

9:366-436

on a mound, fellows' darling:

within the heart is your place

beneath the lung your cellar;

slip in between there

run quickly in there!

You are no river to run

nor a pool to flow

nor a swamp-mire to gurgle

no shipwreck to spill over.

Have done now, dear, with dripping

red one, with dropping!

If you have not done, then clot!

Lapland's rapid once had done

Tuonela's river clotted

the sea dried up, heaven dried

in that great year of clear skies

of fires no one could deal with.

'Should you not heed even that

other things will be thought of

and new means found out: I'll shout

for a pot from the Demon

in which the blood will be boiled

and the gore will be heated

without a trickle dripping

a red one dropping

no blood spilling on the earth

no gore gushing forth.

'Should I not be man enough

nor fellow enough the Old Man's son

to block off this flood

check this vein-rapid

there's the heavenly father

god above the clouds

who counts among men

and holds good among fellows

for shutting the mouth of blood

blocking what comes forth.

O Old Man, high creator

heaven-dwelling god

come here when you are needed

walk this way when you are called:

thrust your chubby hand

and press your fat thumb

to block the harsh hole

to stop up the evil gate;

draw a sweet leaf over it

a golden water lily

slap on, to bar the blood's road

to block what comes forth

that it may not splash my beard

run on to my rags!'

Thus he shut the mouth of blood

barred the road of gore. He sent

his son into the workshop

to make some ointments

from those husks of hay

those tips of the thousand-leaved

that spill honey on the earth

drip trickles of mead.

The lad went to the workshop

set about making ointment.

He came up to an oak tree

and inquired of his oak tree:

'Is there honey on your boughs

mead beneath your bark?'

The oak skilfully answers:

'Only yesterday

mead dripped on my boughs

honey daubed my top

from drizzling clouds, from

scattering vapours.'

9:437-510

He took some slivers of oak

fragments of the brittle tree;

he took some good hay

many kinds of grass

which are not seen on these lands

growing everywhere.

He puts a pot on the fire

he brought the stew to the boil

full of oak tree bark

of good-looking hay.

The pot boiled, rumbled

for three nights in all

for three days of spring;

then he looked to see whether

the ointments were steadfast, the

remedies reliable.

The ointments were not steadfast

the remedies not reliable.

He put in some extra hay

many kinds of grass

which had been brought from elsewhere

brought back from a hundred trips

from nine soothsayers

from eight who treat ills.

He cooked three nights more

for nine nights on end;

he lifts the pot from the fire

looks to see whether

the ointments are steadfast, the

remedies reliable.

A branchy aspen

grew at a field edge.

The murderer shattered it

quite into two he split it;

he anointed it with those ointments

he treated it with those remedies

and he put this into words:

'If something in these ointments

can be put upon a hurt

can be poured on injuries

aspen, heal together, be

more graceful than you once were!'

The aspen healed together

more graceful than it once was -

grew fair at the top

quite healthy below.

Then he tested the ointments

he looks at the remedies

tried them on cracks in a rock

on clefts in boulders:

already rocks stuck to rocks

boulders to a boulder joined.

The lad came from the workshop

from making ointments

from preparing salves

thrust them in the old man's hand:

'These ointments are steadfast, these

remedies reliable

though you should anoint mountains

and make all cliffs into one.'

The old man tested them with his tongue

tasted them with his sweet mouth

and he knew the remedies

were good, the ointments steadfast.

Then he anointed Väinämöinen

the ill-befallen he healed -

anointed below, above

slapped the middle once.

He says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'I move not with my own flesh

but with my Creator's flesh

I act not by my own power

but by the Almighty's power

9:511-583

I talk not with my own mouth

I talk with the mouth of God.

Now, if I have a sweet mouth

sweeter is the mouth of God

and if my hand is fair, the

Creator's hand is fairer.'

When the ointment was put on

and those steadfast remedies

they sent him into half-swoons

Väinämöinen into faints:

he thrashes here, thrashes there

but he found no rest.

So the old man drove the aches

thrust from there the points of pain

to the middle of Ache Hill

the peak of Mount Ache

to make a rock ache

to break a boulder.

He seized a handful of silk

smoothed it into sheets

tore it into strips

into bandages shaped it;

he bound with those silks

swathed with those fair ones

the knee of the worthy boy

the toes of Väinämöinen.

He says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Be a bandage the Lord's silk

the Lord's cape be a cover

upon this good knee

on these steadfast toes!

Look now, O fair God

keep him, steadfast Creator

lest he be taken hurtward

towards injury be hauled!'

At that old Väinämöinen

now felt it really helping.

Soon he became well

and his flesh grew fair

quite healthy below

with the middle not aching

the side not hurting

and on top no scar -

more graceful than it once was

better than it was before.

Already now he could walk

his knee was able to tread;

he does not suffer at all

does not groan even a bit.

At that old Väinämöinen

lifted up his eyes

glances handsomely

overhead to heaven;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'From there mercies ever flow

friendly refuge comes

out of heaven above, from

the almighty Creator.

Be now praised, O God,

extolled, Creator, alone

for giving me help

bringing me friendly refuge

amid these harsh pains

this sharp iron's toil!'

At that old Väinämöinen

put this also into words:

'Do not, folk to come

folk still to grow up

rashly make a boat

recklessly a bow either!

God appoints how far to go

9:584-10:32

the Lord fixes the limit;

'tis not in a fellow's skill

even in a strong one's power.'

10. Forging the Sampo

Steady old Väinämöinen

took his bay stallion

put his foal into harness

the bay in front of the sledge

flings himself into the sledge

settles in his sleigh.

He lashed the courser

whacked it with the beaded belt:

courser ran and journey sped

the sledge rolled, the road shortened

the birchwood runner thudded

the rowan collar-bow slammed.

He rumbles along

by swamps and by lands

by wide open glades.

He went one day, he went two

till on the third day

he came to the long quay's end

upon Kalevala's heath

at the edge of Osmo's field.

There he put this into words

he declared, chattered:

'Wolf, devour the seer

disease, kill the Lapp!

She said I would not reach home

any more with eyes alive

ever in this world

not in a month of Sundays

reach these glades of Väinö-land

the heaths of Kalevala.'

At that old Väinämöinen

sings and practises his craft:

10:33-103

he sang a spruce topped with flowers

topped with flowers and leaved with gold;

the top he pushed heavenward

through the clouds he lifted it

spread the foliage skyward

across heaven scattered it.

He sings, practises his craft -

sang the moon to gleam

on the gold-topped spruce, he sang

the Great Bear on to its boughs.

He rumbles along

towards his dear home

his head down, in bad spirits

helmet all askew

for he had promised the smith

the everlasting craftsman

Ilmarinen to redeem

to save his own skin -

promised him to dark Northland

to dreary Sariola.

The stallion stopped at the end

of Osmo's new field

and there old Väinämöinen

lifted his head from the sleigh:

from the workshop noise is heard

clanging from the charcoal-hut.

Steady old Väinämöinen

he slipped into the workshop:

there is smith Ilmarinen

hammering away.

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'Old Väinämöinen!

Where have you lingered so long

spending all your time?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'There I have lingered so long

living all my time -

there in dark Northland

in dreary Sariola

gliding along Lappish trails

in the haunts of men who know.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

Old Väinämöinen

you everlasting wise man

what's to tell from your travels

now you have come home?'

Old Väinämöinen uttered:

'I have much to tell:

there is a maid in Northland

a lass in the cold village

who will not accept bridegrooms

take to good husbands.

Half the North was praising her

for being very handsome:

the moon shone from her brow-bones

and from her breasts the sun beamed

the Great Bear from her shoulders

the Seven Stars from her back.

Smith Ilmarinen

you everlasting craftsman

go and fetch the maid

look for the braid-head!

If you can forge the Sampo

brighten the bright-lid

you'll get the maid for your pay

for your work the lovely girl.'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'O-oh, old Väinämöinen!

Have you promised me -

10:104-173

promised me to dark Northland

to save your own skin

to redeem yourself?

Never in this world shall I

not in a month of Sundays

set out for Northland's cabins

for Sariola's buildings

for the man-eating

the fellow-drowning places!'

At that old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'There's another wonder yet -

a spruce topped with flowers

topped with flowers and leaved with gold

at the edge of Osmo's field

and the moon gleamed in its top

on its boughs the Great Bear stood.'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'I'll not believe that

unless I go there to look

and see with these eyes of mine.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'All right, if you don't believe

let us go and see whether

it is the truth or a lie!'

They went off to look

upon that spruce topped with flowers:

first went old Väinämöinen

next the smith Ilmarinen.

Then, when they got there

to the edge of Osmo's field

the smith stops by it

wonders at the new spruce, for

on its boughs was the Great Bear

the moon in the spruce's top.

There the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Now, you smith, my dear brother

climb to fetch the moon

to take the Great Bear

out of the spruce topped with gold!'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

climbed high in the tree

up, up heavenward

climbed to fetch the moon

to take the Great Bear

out of the spruce topped with gold.

The spruce topped with flowers uttered

the shock-headed pine declared:

'Alas for a mindless man

an utterly strange fellow!

You climbed, strange man, on my boughs

child-witted, into my top

to fetch a mock moon

for the sake of a false star!'

Then the old Väinämöinen

sings under his breath -

sang the wind into a whirl

worked the air into a rage;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Take him, wind, into your craft,

gale, into your boat

to whisk him away

into dark Northland!'

The wind rose into a whirl

the air worked into a rage

took the smith Ilmarinen

to sweep him away

into dark Northland

10:174-242

to dreary Sariola.

There the smith Ilmarinen

he both went and sped:

he went along the wind's road

along the gale's path

over moon and under sun

across the Great Bear's shoulders;

he reached Northland's yard

Sariola's sauna-road

but the dogs did not hear him

nor did the barkers notice.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

the gap-toothed hag of the North

comes into the yard

and hastened to say:

'What kind of man may you be

what sort of fellow?

You came here by the wind's road

by the gale's sledge path

and the dogs don't bark at you

nor do the fluffy-tails speak!'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'I've certainly not come here

to amuse the village dogs

to enrage the fluffy-tails

before these strange doors

at these foreign gates!'

Then the mistress of Northland

inquired of the newcomer:

'Have you come to see

hear and know about

that Ilmarinen the smith

the most skilful of craftsmen?

He has long been waited for

and ages been longed for, here

in furthest Northland

to make up the new Sampo.'

Smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Perhaps I have come to see

that Ilmarinen the smith

for I am Ilmarinen

the skilful craftsman myself.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

the gap-toothed hag of the North

quickly slipped indoors

and says with this word:

'My younger maiden

my child, my smallest baby!

Put on your best now

on your body the whitest

the softest upon your hems

the most splendid on your breasts

around your neck the fairest

the most blooming on your brows

put red on your cheeks

and show off your face

for the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

has come to make the Sampo

brighten the bright-lid!'

'Twas the fair girl of the North

the land's famous, water's choice

took out her choice clothes

her cleanest garments

decks herself, dresses herself

fits herself out in headbands

puts herself in copper hoops

looks a wonder in gold belts

10:243-313

and she came in from the shed

tripping in from the farmyard

with her eyes aglow

with her ears gorgeous

fair about the face

with her cheeks blushing;

gold hung at her breast

on her head silver glittered.

She, the mistress of Northland

showed the smith Ilmarinen

round those cabins of Northland

round Sariola's buildings;

there she fed him full

she let the man drink his fill

entertained him very well.

Then she got round to saying:

'Smith Ilmarinen

O everlasting craftsman

if you can forge the Sampo

brighten the bright-lid

from a swan's quill tip

a barren cow's milk

a small barley grain

a summer ewe's down

you'll get the maid for your pay

for your work the lovely girl.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

put this into words: 'I'il be

able to forge the Sampo

beat out the bright-lid

from a swan's quill tip

a barren cow's milk

a small barley grain

a summer ewe's down

because I have forged the sky

beaten out the lid of heaven

with nothing to start off from

with not a shred ready made.'

He went to make the Sampo

brighten the bright-lid:

he asked for a workshop site

longed for forging-tools

but there was no workshop site

no workshop and no bellows

no forge, no anvil

no hammer, no handle even!

Then the smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Well, let the hags doubt

the flighty break off -

but even a worse man won't

nor a sleepier fellow!'

He sought a base for a forge

space for a smithy

upon those lands, those mainlands

upon the North's furthest fields;

he sought one day, he sought two

till on the third day

he came upon a bright rock

a massive boulder in front.

There the smith stopped, there

the craftsman put up his fire;

spent one day making bellows

the next setting up a forge.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

pushed the raw stuffs in the fire

his materials down in the forge;

he took serfs to puff

and striplings to press.

The serfs puffed and flapped

10:314-385

the striplings pressed hard

for three summer days

and three summer nights;

rocks grew at their heels

and boulders where their toes were.

So on the first day

he, the smith Ilmarinen

leaned over to look

at his forge's underside

and see what might be coming

from the fire, out of the flame:

a crossbow pushed from the fire

a bow of gold from the heat

the bow gold, the top silver

the shaft copper-bright.

The crossbow is good-looking

only it is ill-mannered:

every day it claims a head

and on a good day two heads.

He, the smith Ilmarinen

was not greatly pleased with that

and he snapped the bow in two

then pushes it in the fire;

he made the serfs puff

and the striplings press.

Now the day after

he, the smith Ilmarinen

leaned over to look

at his forge's underside:

a boat pushed out of the fire

a red craft out of the heat

its prow bright with gold

its rowlocks cast in copper.

It is a good-looking boat

but it is not well-mannered:

vainly it would go to war

needlessly to fight.

Smith Ilmarinen

was not pleased with that either:

he shattered the boat to bits

pushes it in the fireplace;

he made the serfs puff

and the striplings press.

Now on the third day

he, the smith Ilmarinen

leaned over to look

at his forge's underside:

a heifer pushed from the fire

a gold-horned one from the heat

on its brow a Great Bear star

and on its head the sun's disc.

The heifer is good-looking

but it is not well-mannered:

it lies down in the forest

spills its milk upon the ground.

Smith Ilmarinen

was not pleased with that either:

he cut the cow in pieces

then pushes it in the fire;

he made the serfs puff

and the striplings press.

Now on the fourth day

he, the smith Ilmarinen

leaned over to look

at his forge's underside:

a plough pushed out of the fire

a gold-shared one from the heat

the share gold, the stilt copper

silver on the handle top.

It is a good-looking plough

but it is not well-mannered:

it ploughs others' fields

10:386-458

and tills their acres.

Smith Ilmarinen

was not pleased with that either

and he snapped the plough in two

and shoved it down in his forge.

He made the winds puff

and the strong gusts press.

The winds puffed and flapped:

the east puffed and puffed the west

and the south puffed more

and the north blasted.

They puffed one day, they puffed two

soon they puffed a third as well:

the fire flashed from the window

the sparks flew out of the door

the dirt rose skyward

the smoke thickened to the clouds.

Smith Ilmarinen

at the third day's end

leaned over to look

at his forge's underside -

saw the Sampo being born

the bright-lid growing.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

he hammers away

he tap-taps away.

He forged the Sampo with skill:

on one side there's a corn mill

on the second a salt mill

a money mill on the third.

And then the new Sampo ground

and the bright-lid rocked;

ground a binful at twilight -

one binful to eat

another it ground to sell

and a third to store at home.

The hag of the North was pleased;

then she took the great Sampo

into Northland's rocky hill

inside the slope of copper

and behind nine locks.

There she rooted roots

to a depth of nine fathoms;

sank one root in mother earth

and one in a riverbank

and a third in the home-hill.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

went to beg the girl.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Will you marry me, maid, now

that the Sampo is finished

and the bright-lid fair?'

But that fair girl of the North

put this into words:

'And who here next year

who the third summer

would set the cuckoo calling

set the birds singing

if I went elsewhere and came,

a berry, to other lands!

If this hen were to be lost

if this goose were to wander

mother's offspring were to stray

the cowberry went away

all the cuckoos would be lost

the joy-birds would move away

from the peaks of this

knoll, the shoulders of this ridge.

Nor am I free otherwise

cannot leave my maiden days

these jobs to be done

in the summer rush -

10:459-510

berries on the land unpicked

the bay shores unsung

untrodden by me the glades

the groves unplayed in by me.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

his head down, in bad spirits

helmet all askew

now considers there

and long he ponders

how to go homeward

come to lands he knows

out of dark Northland

from dreary Sariola.

The mistress of Northland said:

'Oh dear, smith Ilmarinen!

Why are you in bad spirits

helmet all askew?

Would you have a mind to go

to the lands where once you lived?'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'There I'd have a mind to go -

to my home to die

to my land to pine away.'

Then the mistress of Northland

fed the man, gave him to drink

sat him astern in a craft

with a paddle of copper;

told the wind to blow

and the north wind to bluster.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

made for his own lands

over the blue sea.

He sailed one day, he sailed two

till on the third day

now the smith came home

to those places of his birth.

Old Väinämöinen

asked the smith Ilmarinen:

'Brother, smith Ilmarinen

O everlasting craftsman

have you made the new Sampo

brightened the bright-lid?'

The smith Ilmarinen said

the maker himself chattered:

'The new Sampo's been grinding

the bright-lid rocking;

ground a binful at twilight -

one binful to eat

another it ground to sell

and a third to store away.'

11. A Bond Made

'Tis time to tell of Ahti

and to lilt about a rogue.

Ahti the Islander boy

he, the wanton Loverboy

grew up in a lofty home

with his dear mother

at the broadest bay's far end

underneath Far Headland's arm.

On fish there Farmind grew up

and on perch Ahti came up

became a man of the best

a red-blooded one burst forth

who has a good head

and can hold his own;

but he went a little wrong

and rascally in his ways:

he kept going with women

staying out all night

making merry with lasses

capering with braided heads.

Kylli was an Island maid

an Island maid, Island flower

who grew in a lofty home

came up in one most graceful

sitting in her father's rooms

where the back bench sagged.

Long she grew up, far was famed:

from far suitors came

to the maid's famous

home, to her fair farm.

The sun wooed her for his son

but she'd not go to Sunland

to shine with the sun

in the summer rush.

The moon wooed her for his son

but she'd not go to Moonland

to gleam with the moon

to go the sky's rounds.

A star wooed her for his son

but she'd not go to Starland

to twinkle night-long

in the winter skies.

From Estonia bridegrooms came

others from Ingria yonder

but she'd not go there either

and she answered back:

'In vain is your gold used up

your silver worn thin!

I'll not go to Estonia

I'll not go, nor pledge myself

to row Estonian water

punt between islands

eat Estonian fish

gulp Estonian broth.

Nor will I go to Ingria

to its banks and braes:

there is lack, lack of all things -

lack of trees and lack of splints*

lack of water, lack of wheat

and lack of rye bread.'

Well, wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

promised he would go

off to woo the Island flower

that especial bride

the beautiful braided head.

His mother tried to forbid

the old woman warned:

11:69-135

'Do not go, my boy

among your betters!

You will not be accepted

among the Island's great kin.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said

fair Farmind uttered:

'Though my home is not handsome

and my kin not great

I will choose with my body

take with my other good looks.'

And still his mother forbids

Lemminkäinen to go off

among the Island's great kin

and its mighty families:

'There the wenches will taunt you

the women will laugh at you.'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He put this in words: 'Be sure

I'll ward off women's laughter

and the giggles of daughters:

I'll kick a boy at the breast

and a babe-in-arms;

that will stop even good taunts

better insults too.'

His mother put this in words:

'Woe, luckless me, for my days!

If you disgraced the Island

women, used the pure wenches

a quarrel would come of it

and a great war would befall!

All of the Island's bridegrooms

a hundred men with their swords

would fall on you, luckless one

would surround you on your own.'

What did Lemminkäinen care

about his mother's warning!

He takes the good stallion, he

harnessed the choice foal

and he rumbles off

to the Island's famed village

off to woo the Island flower

the Island's especial bride.

The women laughed at Lemminkäinen

the wenches poked fun, for he

drove oddly along the lane

grimly into the farmyard:

he drove his sleigh till it tipped

at the gate rolled it over.

There wanton Lemminkäinen

twisted his mouth, turned his head

and twisted his black whiskers

and he put this into words:

'I have not seen that before

I've not seen nor heard

a woman laughing at me

nor suffered a wench's taunts.'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Is there space on the Island

land on the Island's mainland

for me to play games

ground for me to dance, to make

merry with Island lasses

and caper with braided heads?'

And the Island lassies say

and the headland maids answer:

'Yes, there's space on the Island

11:136-207

land on the Island's mainland

for you to play games

ground for you to dance -

clearings fit for a cowherd

burnt land fit for a herd-boy:

the Island children are lean

but the foals are fat.'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He got hired as a herdsman

spent the days herding, the nights

making merry with lasses

sporting with those maids

capering with braided heads.

Thus wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

warded off woman's laughter

and held off a wench's taunts:

there was no daughter

not even the purest wench

he did not touch up

did not lie down with.

One lass there was of them all

among the Island's great kin

who would not accept bridegrooms

take to good husbands:

that was Kyllikki the proud

the Island's beautiful flower.

Well, wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

wore away a hundred boots

rowed a hundred oars in half

going for that maid

hunting Kyllikki.

Kyllikki, proud maid

put this into words:

'Why, wretch, do you rush about,

plover, drive about

asking after the girls here

inquiring about tin-belts?

I cannot be spared from here

before I've ground the quern down

beaten the stamper away

pounded the mortar to bits.

Nor do I care for birdbrains -

for birdbrains, for scatterbrains:

I want a shapely body

for my own shapely body

I want one finer looking

for my own fine looks

and a fairer face

for my own fair face.'

A little time passed

barely half a month went by

till one day among others

one evening among many

the maids are sporting

the beauties are capering

on the backwoods' mainland side

upon the fair heath -

Kyllikki above the rest

the Island's most famous flower;

and the full-blooded rogue came

wanton Lemminkäinen drove

with his own stallion

with his chosen foal

into the midst of their sport

of the beauties' capers, snatched

Kyllikki into his sledge

grabbed the maid into his sleigh

dumped her on his hide

put her on his planks

and he whipped the horse

11:208-278

thrashed it with the thong

then he glided off

saying as he goes:

'Lasses, don't ever

give the game away

that I have been here

have taken a maid from here!

If you do not heed

it will be the worse for you:

I'll sing your bridegrooms to war

your young men beneath the sword

so they'll be heard nevermore

nor seen ever in this world

walking in the lanes

driving in the glades.'

Truly Kyllikki complained

the Island's flower moaned:

'Let me go now, give

a child her freedom

to go home, back to

her weeping mother!

If you will not give

me leave to go home

my five brothers yet

my uncle's seven children

will track the hare down

will demand the maid's head back.'

When she could find no way out

she burst into tears

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'In vain was I, luckless, born

in vain born, in vain I grew

in vain lived my time;

now I'm left with an idler

with a man of no account

sheltered by a warmonger

a harsh one always fighting!'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said

fair Farmind uttered:

'Kyllikki, my heart's delight

my luscious little berry

don't worry at all!

I shan't ill-treat you -

you in my arms as I eat

you in my hands as I walk

you at my side as I stand

you beside me as I lie -

so why do you grieve

why do you sigh full of care?

Is this why you grieve

and why you sigh full of care -

that you'll have no cows, no bread,

everything in short supply?

Don't worry at all!

I have many cows

many milk-givers -

one, Buttercup on the swamp

two, Strawberry on the hill

three, Cowberry* on burnt land.

They are fine without eating

fair without looking after;

there's no evening tethering

and no morning letting out

no tossing of a hay-bale

no worry for salt or feed.

Or else is this why you grieve

and why you sigh full of care -

that my kinsfolk are not great

my home not very lofty?

Though I am not great of kin

nor lofty of home

11:279-348

I have a fiery sword, a

sparkling iron brand.

This is great kin, this

is a mighty family -

one refined among demons

polished among gods;

and thus I make my kin great

all my kind mighty -

with a sword of fiery blade

with a sparkling brand.'

The hapless maid sighs

and she put this into words:

'Ahti, Loverboy

if you want a maid like me

for an everlasting mate

for a hen under your arm

you, swear an oath for ever

that you will not go to war -

not even for need of gold

even for greed of silver.

There wanton Lemminkäinen

put this into words:

'I swear an oath for ever

that I shall not go to war -

not even for need for gold

even for greed of silver.

Now you, swear your oath

that you'll not go visiting -

not for greed of a good hop

even, for need of a dance!'

Thereupon they swore their oaths

made their pledges for ever

before the God known to all*

beneath the Almighty's face:

Ahti would not go to war

nor Kyllikki visiting.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

lashed the courser on

beat the stallion with the rein

and he put this into words:

'Farewell, Island turfs

spruce roots, tarry stumps

where I have walked in summer

tramped all the winters

lurking upon cloudy nights

and fleeing in bad weather

as I was hunting this grouse

chasing this calloo!'

He canters away;

soon his home appears.

The maid put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'A cabin is looming there

a lean hovel's appearing.

Whose is that cabin

whose is that ne'er-do-well's home?'

The wanton Lemminkäinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Don't you grieve about cabins

don't sigh about huts!

Other cabins will be built

better ones will be put up

from massive standing timber

the best timberland.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

quickly arrives home

to his dear mother

beside his honoured parent.

His mother put this in words

she declared, spoke thus:

11:349-402

'You have lingered long, my boy

long in foreign lands.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I had to disgrace the wives

and pay the pure wenches back

because they kept taunting me

kept laughing at me.

I got the best in my sleigh

dumped her on my hide

put her on my planks

and under the rug rolled her.

Thus I paid the wives' laughter

and the wenches' mockery.

O my mother who bore me

my mamma who brought me up

what I set out for I got

and what I hunted I found:

lay now your best mattresses

your softest pillows

for me in my own land to

lie with my young maid!'

His mother put this in words

she declared, chattered:

'Be now praised, O God,

extolled, Creator, alone

for giving me a daughter-in-law

bringing a good fire-blower

an excellent cloth-weaver

a most capable spinner

a superb washerwoman

and bleacher of clothes!

And you, praise your luck:

good you got and good you found

good your Creator promised

good the merciful one gave.

Pure is the bunting on snow -

purer is the one you have;

white on the sea is the froth -

whiter is the one you hold;

fair on the sea is the duck -

fairer is the one you keep;

bright is the star in the sky -

brighter is the one you wed.

Prepare now floors that are wide

fetch windows that are bigger

raise walls that are new, and build

a whole cabin that's better

thresholds before the cabin

and new doors at the threshold

since you have got a young maid

and have looked out a fair one

better than yourself

greater than your kin!'

12. A Bond Broken

Then Ahti Lemminkäinen

he, the fair faraway man

carried on living

with the young maiden

and he did not go to war

nor Kyllikki visiting.

So, one day among others

one morrow among many

he, Ahti Lemminkäinen

goes off to catch fish spawning;

did not come home at evening

for the first night could not. Now

Kyllikki went visiting

to sport with those maids.

Who is it carries the news

who is a tell-tale? Ahti

has a sister, Annikki;

she it is carries the news

she is the tell-tale:

'Darling Ahti my brother!

Kyllikki's been visiting

within foreign gates

sporting with the village maids

capering with braided heads.'

Ahti boy, the matchless boy

he, wanton Lemminkäinen

at that was angry, was wroth

and was long furious;

and he put this into words:

'O my mother, old woman!

If you were to wash my shirt

in black snake poison

and were quickly to dry it

I could go to war

to the fires of the North's sons

the grounds of Lapland's children:

Kyllikki's been visiting

within foreign gates

sporting with those maids

capering with braided heads.'

And truly Kyllikki says

his wife hastens first to say:

'My darling Ahti

don't go off to war!

I dreamed as I lay

as I soundly slept:

fire as a forge was driving

flame was flickering

right underneath the window

by the bank at the back wall;

from there it swirled in

as a rapid roared

from floorboards to roof

window to window.'

There wanton Lemminkäinen

put this into words:

'I don't believe women's dreams

nor the oaths of wives.

O my mother who bore me

bring here my war-gear

carry here my battledress!

I have a good mind

to go drink the beer of war

to taste the honey of war.'

12:65-135

His mother put this in words:

'O Ahti my boy

don't go off to war!

We have beer at home

in an alder keg

behind an oak bung;

I will bring you some to drink

though you were to drink all day.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'I don't care for home beer! I'd

sooner drink river water

off a tarry paddle's blade:

that's sweeter for me to drink

than all the home brews.

Bring here my war-gear

carry here my battledress!

I'm off to Northland's cabins

the grounds of Lapland's children

to lay claim to gold

to demand silver.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Oh, Ahti my boy!

There is gold at home

silver in our shed.

Only yesterday

quite early in the morning

a serf ploughed a viper-field

turned over one full of snakes;

the plough lifted a chest lid

its back end raised a penny:

inside hundreds had been stacked

thousands had been crammed.

I lugged the chest to the shed

put it up in the shed loft.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'I don't care about home wealth!

If I get one mark from war

I'll regard it as better

than all the home gold

silver lifted by a plough.

Bring here my war-gear

carry here my battledress!

I'm off to a Northland war

a fight with Lapland's children.

I have a good mind

take into my head

to hear with my ears

and see with these eyes of mine

if there's a maid in Northland

a wench in Darkland

who will not accept bridegrooms

take to good husbands.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Oh, Ahti my boy!

You have Kyllikki at home

a home-wife who's loftier.

It is grim to have two wives

in one husband's bed.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'Kyllikki's a gadabout:

let her run in every sport

lie in every room, making

merry with village lasses

capering with braided heads!'

His mother tried to forbid

the old woman warned:

'Just don't, my offspring

don't go to Northland's cabins

unless you are wise in words

unless you can work wisdom

to the fires of the North's sons

12:136-208

the grounds of Lapland's children!

There a Lapp will sing,* a man

of Turja will shove your face

into coal, head into clay

and into dust your forearms

your fists into hot ashes

and burning boulders.'

Lemminkäinen says: 'Witches

have already bewitched me

witches bewitched, vipers cursed:

three Lapps had a go at me

in one summer night

naked upon an outcrop

without belt or clothes

without a stitch on;

but they gained from me

and the mean ones got as good

as an axe gets from a rock

and an auger from a cliff

and a pick from an ice-sheet

Death from an empty cabin.

Things looked grim one way

but they turned out differently.

They wanted to put me, they

threatened to sink me

for a causeway upon swamps

boards upon dirty places

to put my chin into slime

my beard into a bad spot.

But I, such a man

did not greatly fret at that;

I became a soothsayer

I turned reciter: I sang

the witches with their arrows

the shooters with their weapons

the wizards with their iron

knives, the wise men with their steels

into Tuoni's steep rapid

into the frightful eddy

down the highest waterfall

down into the worst whirlpool.

There let the witches sleep, there

let the envious lie

until the grass grows

through the head, through the helmet

through a witch's shoulderblades

cleaving the shoulder flesh off

a witch where he lies

an envious man where he sleeps!'

Still his mother banned

Lemminkäinen from going;

the mother forbade her son

and the woman banned her man:

'Just don't go at all

yonder to the cold village

into dark Northland!

Ruin at least will come, ruin

to the worthy boy, downfall

to wanton Lemminkäinen.

Say it with a hundred mouths

but I'll still not believe you:

there is no singer in you

to match the sons of the North

nor do you know Turja's tongue*

and you cannot speak Lappish.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

was combing his head

and brushing his hair.

He flung the comb at the wall

the brush he hurled at the post

he uttered a word, spoke thus

he declared, chattered:

12:209-280

'That will be Lemminkäinen's

downfall, the worthy boy's ruin

when the comb is pouring blood

and the brush is babbling gore.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen went

off to dark Northland

although his mother forbade

and his parent warned.

He bolts up, belts up

puts on iron shirts

buckles on steel belts

and he put this into words:

'In armour a man's tougher

in an iron shirt better

in a steel belt more powerful

among those witches, so he

does not care about worse ones

fret about good ones even.'

He took his own sword

snatched his fiery blade

refined among the demons

ground among the gods;

to his side binds it

thrust it into the scabbard.

Where does the man guard himself

the harsh fellow shield himself?

Now he guards himself a bit

there the harsh one shields himself -

at the door beneath the beam

by the doorpost of the hut

in the yard where the lane ends

and within the furthest gates.

There the man guarded himself

against womenfolk;

but that guard was not strong, nor

was the refuge trustworthy

so he further guards himself

against the menfolk

where two ways parted

on the back of a blue rock

upon moving mires

upon spilling springs

a rapid's steep waterfall

a swirl of mighty water.

There wanton Lemminkäinen

declared, recited:

'Up out of the earth, swordsmen

fellows as old as the soil

out of the wells, brand-bearers

out of the rivers, bowmen!

Rise up, forest, with your men

all wilds with your folk

old mountain-men with your power

water-demon with your ghouls

with your force, water-mistress

water's eldest with your host

maidens out of every marsh

fine-hemmed ones out of the mires

to help the man without match

to be with the famous boy

so witch-arrows do not work

nor a wise man's steels

nor a wizard's iron knives

no shooter's weapons!

'Should not enough come of that

I recall another way:

higher I will sigh

to that Old Man of the sky

him who keeps the clouds

governs the vapours.

O Old Man, chief god

old father in heaven

12:281-351

who speak through the clouds

declare down the air:

bring for me a fiery sword

in a fiery sheath

with which I will shatter bars

snatch away jinxes

overturn the earth-envious

defeat the water-wizards

out in front of me

to the rear of me

above my head, to my side

on both my flanks; I will stick

witches upon their arrows

wizards on their iron knives

wise men on their steels

evil men upon their swords!'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind, whistled

his foal out of the thicket

from withered grass his gold-mane

slipped the foal into harness

between shafts the fiery-red

and he sat down in the sledge

rushed into his sleigh

and lashed the courser

goaded with the pebble-tipped.

Courser ran and journey sped

the sledge rolled, the road shortened

the silver sand rang

the golden heath boomed.

He went one day, he went two

soon he went a third as well

till on the third day

he comes upon a village.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

rumbles on his way

along the outermost road

up to the outermost house.

Over the threshold he asks

spoke from beyond the roof tree:

'Might there be one in this house

who will take off my breast-straps

will let down my shafts

unfasten the collar-bow?'

A child declared from the floor

a boy from the staircase end:

'There is no one in this house

who will take off your breast-straps

will let down your shafts

unfasten the collar-bow.'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He lashed the courser

whacked it with the beaded belt;

he rumbles away

along the middlemost road

up to the middlemost house.

Over the threshold he asks

speaks out from beyond the roof:

'Might there be one in this house

who will take the reins

tear off the breast-straps

pull off the traces?'

A hag ranted from the hearth

a gossip from the stove seat:

'Yes, you'll get some in this house

who will take your reins

take off your breast-straps

and let down your shafts;

yes, there are dozens

you'll get(if you want) hundreds

who'll give you a lift:

12:352-423

they will supply a draft horse

to go, scoundrel, to your home

to flee, villain, to your land

where your master sits

where your mistress steps

your brother's gateway

your sister's floor end

before the day's out

and the sun goes down!'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'The hag should be shot

the hook-chin clobbered.'

He gave the courser its head;

he swishes away

along the uppermost road

up to the uppermost house.

There wanton Lemminkäinen

as he approaches the house

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Demon, block the barker's mouth

and Devil, the dog's jawbone;

set a block before its mouth

and a gag between its teeth

so it makes no sound before

the man has gone by!'

So, reaching the yard

he smites the earth with his whip:

a mist rose from the whip's path

a little man in the mist;

'twas he took off the breast-straps

'twas he who let down the shafts.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

listens with his ears

with nobody spotting him

with no one noticing him:

from outside he heard poems

through the moss heard words

through the wall players

and through the shutter singers.

He glanced in from there

he peeped furtively:

the cabin was full of clever men

the benches full of singers

the side walls full of players

the doorway of cunning men

the back bench full of wise men

the inglenook of crooners;

they sang poems of Lapland

and a Demon-tale they squealed.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

dared to become someone else

he made bold to change his shape;

from the corner he went in

got inside from the wall joint

and he put this into words:

'A song is good when it ends

when 'tis short a tale is fair;

it makes better sense to stay

than break off in the middle.'

She, the mistress of Northland

shifted at the floor seam, paced

in the middle of the floor

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'There used to be a dog here

a cur iron-hued

that ate the flesh, gnawed the bones

lapped the blood of someone new.

What kind of man may you be

what sort of fellow are you -

coming into this cabin

12:424-496

getting inside the building

without the dog hearing you

or the barker noticing?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'I've certainly not come here

without my skill, my wisdom

without my might, my knowledge

without my father's magic

and my parent's protection

to be eaten by your dogs

chopped up by barkers.

My mother washed me

washed me as a little sprout

three times in a summer night

nine times in an autumn night

to be wise on every road

and knowing in every land

to be a singer at home

and a cunning man abroad.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

now became a soothsayer

and turned into a singer:

his coat hems struck fire

and his eyes poured flame

as Lemminkäinen sang, as

he sang and chanted.

He sang the best of singers

into the worst of singers;

rammed rocks sideways in the mouths

piled boulders sidelong in those

of the best singers

the most skilful bards.

So he sang such men

one this way, one that -

into barren glades

upon unploughed lands

into fishless pools

ones quite without perch

into Rutja's* steep rapid

into the smoking whirlpool

to be froth-crests in the stream

and rocks amid the rapid

to smoulder as fire

and to shoot as sparks.

Wanton Lemminkäinen sang

the men thither with their swords

the fellows with their weapons;

he sang the young, sang the old

sang the middle-aged;

one he left unsung -

a paltry herdsman

an old man, old and sightless.

Dripcap* the herdsman

put this into words:

'O you wanton Loverboy

you've sung the young, sung the old

sung the middle-aged -

so why will you not sing me?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'This is why I'll not touch you:

you are mean to look upon

wretched without my touching.

Still a younger man

a paltry herdsman

you spoilt her your mother bore

you raped your sister;

all the horses you abused

and the mare's foals you wore out

on open swamps, amid lands

upon shifting water-scum.'

Dripcap the herdsman

at that was angry, furious

12:497-13:30

and he went out through the door

to the field across the yard

ran to Tuonela's river

to the holy stream's whirlpool.

There he looked out for Farmind

he waits for Lemminkäinen

on his return from Northland

on his journey home.

13. The Demon's Elk

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

said to the hag of Northland:

'Hag, now give of your wenches

bring one of your girls this way

the best of the flock for me

the tallest of your wench-brood!'

Well, that mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I'll not give of my wenches

bestow any of my girls -

not the best, not the worst, not

the tallest, not the shortest

for you have a wedded wife

a married mistress.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'I'll tie Kyllikki outside

to the village threshold steps

to foreign gates, and from here

I will get a better wife.

Now bring your daughter this way

loveliest of the lass-flock

fairest of the braided heads!'

The mistress of Northland said:

'No, I'll not give my girl to

men of no account

to idle fellows.

Only beg for girls

ask after flower-heads when you

have skied for the Demon's elk

from the Demon's furthest fields!'

13:31-100

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

put tips on his spears

strung up his crossbows

and stocked up his bolts

and he put this into words:

'The spear may be tipped

all the bolts ready

the crossbow strung up

but I've no left ski* to push

no right for the heel to smite.'

There wanton Lemminkäinen

thinks and considers

where he might get snowshoes from

anything like skis.

He went to Kauppi's farm, he

stopped at Lyylikki's workshop:

'O shrewd northerner

fair Kauppi the Lapp:

make me useful skis

groove handsome ones, right and left

to ski for the Demon's elk

from the Demon's furthest fields!'

And Lyylikki says a word

Kauppi finds his tongue:

'Vainly, Lemminkäinen, you

go hunting the Demon's elk:

'tis a scrap of rotten wood

you'll get, and that with great grief.'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

And he put this into words:

'Make me a left ski to push

a right ski to scoot!

I'm off to ski for the elk

from the Demon's furthest fields.'

Lyylikki, smith of left skis

Kauppi, maker of right skis

all autumn shaped a left ski

all winter grooved a right ski

all day he cut a pole shaft

all next put on a snow-disc.

The left ski was fit to push

the right for the heel to smite

and the pole shafts were ready

and the snow-discs were put on;

the pole shaft cost an otter

and the snow-disc a brown fox.

With butter he smeared his skis

greased them with reindeer tallow

and at that he thinks

he says with this word:

'Might there among these youngsters

among the folk growing be

someone to push this left ski

of mine, to heel-kick the right?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said

the full-blooded rogue uttered:

'Indeed among these youngsters

among the folk growing there's

someone to push this left ski

of yours, to heel-kick the right.'

The quiver upon his back

he tied, shouldered the new bow

grasped the pole shaft in his hand;

he went to push the left ski

to heel-kick the right

and he put this into words:

'Surely in God's world

beneath the lid of this sky

there's nothing in the forest

running on four feet

13:101-172

that is not overtaken

handsomely carried off, with

these skis of Kaleva's son

with Lemminkäinen's sliders.'

The demons happened to hear

the judases to take note

and the demons built an elk

the judases a reindeer:

they make a head from a block

antlers from goat willow forks

feet from driftwood, legs

from stakes in a swamp

a back from fence poles

sinews from withered grasses

eyes out of pond lily buds

ears out of pond lily flowers

skin out of spruce bark

other flesh from rotten wood.

The Demon advised his elk

to his reindeer spoke by mouth:

'Now run, you elk of demons

foot it, noble deer

to where the reindeer breeds, to

the grounds of Lapland's children!

Make a man ski till he sweats -

Lemminkäinen most of all!'

At that the demons' elk ran

the wild reindeer trotted off

below the North's sheds and through

the grounds of Lapland's children:

it kicked over a cook-house

tub, knocked the pans off the fire

spoilt the meat in the cinders

spilt broth over the fireplace.

Quite a din rose on

the grounds of Lapland's children -

Lapland's dogs barking

and Lapland's children crying

and Lapland's women laughing

and other people grumbling!

He, wanton Lemminkäinen

kept skiing after the elk:

he skied on swamps, skied on lands

he skied upon open glades;

fire swished from the skis

smoke from the tips of the poles

but he did not see his elk

neither saw it nor heard it.

He slid through one town, through twain

slid through lands beyond the sea

skied through all the Demon's woods

all the heaths of the grave too

skied before the mouth of Death

behind the farm of the grave:

Death opens its mouth

the grave tilts its head

to take the fellow

to swallow Lemminkäinen;

but it did not score a hit

was not nearly quick enough.

A strip was yet unslid through

a nook of the wilds untouched

in the furthest North

in open Lapland:

he went sliding through that too

touching that nook of the wilds.

Now, when he arrived

he heard quite a din

from the furthest North

the grounds of Lapland's children:

he heard dogs barking

and Lapland's children crying

13:173-244

and Lapland's women laughing

and the other Lapps grumbling.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

went skiing straight off

to where the dogs were barking

the grounds of Lapland's children

and he said when he got there

inquired when he came:

'Why did the women here laugh

women laugh and children cry

the old people groan

what did the grey dogs bark at?'

'For this the women here laughed

women laughed and children cried

the old people groaned

and for this the grey dogs barked:

the demons' elk ran this way

the smooth-hoof galloped;

it kicked over a cook-house

tub, knocked the pans off the fire

it tipped the stew upside down

spilt gruel in the fireplace.'

At that the full-blooded rogue

that wanton Lemminkäinen

pushed his left ski on the snow

like a viper in the grass

made the swamp-pine one slither

like a snake alive;

he uttered as he careered

said with pole in hand:

'What men there be in Lapland

all shall carry off the elk

and what women in Lapland

all shall wash a pan

and what children in Lapland

all shall gather wood

and what pans a Lapp may have

all shall cook the elk!'

He made fast, he braced himself

he kicked off, he tensed himself.

The first time, he kicked

to where no eye could spot him;

the next time, he thrust

to where no ear could hear him;

the third, he jumps on

the rump of the demons' elk.

He took a maple tether

he snatched a birch withe, with which

he tied up the demons' elk

inside an oak pen:

'Stay there, demons' elk

wild reindeer, trot there!'

And he strokes its back

and he pats its hide:

'This is just the place for me

just the right place to lie down

beside a young maid

with a growing hen!'

Then the Demon's elk, the wild

reindeer kicked out in alarm

and it uttered, this it says:

'May the Devil help you to

lie down with young maids

dally with daughters!'

It braced itself, tensed itself:

the birch withe it tore

it snapped the maple tether

the oak pen it smashed;

then it scuttled off

the elk skipped away

towards swamps and towards lands

to a scrubby hill

13:245-14:32

to where no eye could spot it

to where no ear could hear it.

At that the full-blooded rogue

was angry and wroth

sorely angry and furious:

he skied off after the elk

but with one kick the left ski

buckled at the toe

the ski gave at the foot plate

the right ski snapped by the heel

the spear at the tip

the pole at the snow-disc joint -

and the Demon's elk ran off

till its head could not be seen.

There wanton Lemminkäinen

his head down, in bad spirits

gazes at his things

and he put this into words:

'Never, nevermore

may another of our men

go hunting rashly

skiing for the Demon's elk

as I, luckless, went!

I have destroyed good snowshoes

and a fair pole I have lost

and the sharpest of my spears!'

14. Elk, Horse, Swan

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

thought and considered

which path he should press upon

which trail he should go along:

should he leave the Demon's elks

and make his way home

or should he keep on trying

skiing at his ease

to please the forest mistress

gladden the backwoods lasses?

He says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'O Old Man, chief god-

that is, heavenly father:

make me now straight skis

light ones, left and right

on which I may ski along

across swamps and across lands

ski towards the Demon's lands

across the heaths of the North

to where the Demon's elk roams

the wild reindeer's stamping-grounds!

'I go from men forestward

from fellows to outdoor work

along Tapiola's roads

and through Tapio's houses.

Hail, mountains, hail, slopes

hail, soughing spruces

hail, grizzled aspens

hail one who hails you!

Be kind, forest, soften, wilds

and bend, precious Tapio;

14:33-107

bring a man to the islet

lead him to that mound

where a catch is to be made

and a prey-task carried out!

Nyyrikki, Tapio's son

clear-skinned man, red-helmeted:

carve notches along the lands

blaze a trail upon the slopes

that this fool may feel the way

this utter stranger may know

the road as I seek

prey and beg for game!

Mielikki, forest mistress

clear-skinned crone, fair to look on

set gold in motion

silver wandering

in front of the man seeking

in the steps of one who begs;

take golden keys from

the ring at your thigh

and open Tapio's shed

and shift the forest stronghold

on the days of my hunting

at the times of my prey-search!

Should you not care to yourself

then force your wenches

put in your hirelings

order those who take orders!

Surely you are no mistress

if you do not keep a wench

not keep a hundred wenches

a thousand order-takers

guardians of all your stock

cherishers of all your wealth.

Tiny forest wench

mead-mouthed maid of Tapio:

play a honey-sweet whistle

on a mead-sweet whistle pipe

in the ear of the kindly

the pleasant forest mistress

that she may hear soon

and rise from her bed

for she does not hear at all

hardly ever wakes

though I keep begging

with golden tongue beseeching!'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

all the time gameless

skied on swamps and skied on lands

skied through the hard wilds

on God's hills of coal

the Demon's heaths of charcoal.

He skied one day, he skied two

till on the third day

he climbed a great hill

rose on a great rock

cast his eyes north-west

across swamps northward:

Tapio's houses appeared

and the doors gleamed gold

from across a swamp northward

from under a slope, from scrub.

That wanton Lemminkäinen

straight away went up

came near and approached

below Tapio's window.

He crouched down to look

through the sixth window:

there the givers dwelt

and the wealth-dames lolled

in plain working-clothes

in dirty tatters.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'Why, forest mistess, do you

dwell in working-clothes

14:108-181

in kiln-rags wallow

quite black to look on

of appearance grim

wicked of aspect

your frame ugly to behold?

When I walked through the forest

there were three strongholds -

one of wood and one of bone

and the third a stone stronghold;

six golden windows

were at each stronghold's corner.

I peered in through them

as I stood below the wall:

the master and the mistress

of Tapio's house

Tellervo, Tapio's maid

and Tapio's other folk

with them were swarming in gold

sauntering all in silver.

The forest mistress herself

the kindly forest mistress

had her hands in gold bracelets

fingers in gold rings

head adorned with gold

her hair coiled with gold

ears dangling with gold

her neck with good beads.

Sweet forest mistress

Forestland's honey-sweet crone:

cast off your hay shoes

shed your birchbark burning-shoes

take off your kiln-rags

drop your working-shirt;

dress in lucky clothes

put on shirts for game

on the days of my stalking

at the times of my prey-search!

I fill with boredom

fill up with boredom

in this idleness

at all this time without game

for at no time do you give

hardly ever look after.

Boring the joyless evening

long the day without a catch.

'Old forest greybeard

sprig-hatted, lichen-coated:

dress the forests in linens

clothe the backwoods in broadcloth

the aspens all in cloth coats

the alders in their best clothes;

in silver deck out the firs

set up the spruces in gold

the old firs in copper belts

and the pines in silver belts

the birches in golden flowers

the stumps in golden trinkets!

Dress them as of old

in your better days:

as the moon the spruce boughs shone

and as the sun the pine tops

the forest smelt of honey

and of mead the blue backwoods

the glade edges of wort, swamp

edges of melted butter.

'Forest girl, sweet maid

Tuulikki, daughter of Tapio:

drive the wealth towards the slopes

towards the most open glades!

If it be stiff in running

or lazy in galloping

take a lash from a thicket

a birch out of a wild dell

to tickle its loin

14:182-254

and prod its armpits!

Let it run swiftly

quickly dash along

in front of the man seeking

in the steps of one who plods!

When the wealth reaches the track

goad it up the track;

form with your two palms

a rail on two sides

lest the wealth swerve past

sheer away from the roadside!

But if the wealth does swerve past

sheer away from the roadside

guide it roadward by the ears

bring it by the horns trackward!

A trunk lies across the road:

well, push it aside;

trees on the ground in the way -

well, snap them in two.

It will come upon a fence:

knock the fence askew

leaving a gap five withes high

and seven stakes wide!

A river will lie in front

a brook flow across the road:

seize silk for a plank

red broadcloth for stepping-stones!

Bring it from across the straits

drag it across the waters

from across Northland's river

from over the rapid-foam!

'Master of Tapio's house

mistress of Tapio's house

old forest greybeard

golden forest king;

Mimerkki, forest mistress,

dear, game-giving forest crone

blue-cloaked thicket dame

red-socked swamp mistress:

come now to change gold

to trade with silver!

My gold is old as the moon

and the sun's age my silver

gained with defiance from war

with threats from a fight;

but coins wear out in a purse

tarnish in a money-bag

when there's no one to change gold

to trade with silver.'

So wanton Lemminkäinen

long skied on his way

sang tales at a thicket top

sang three in a wild hollow:

he pleased the forest mistress

even the forest master

delighted all the lasses

and got round Tapio's maids.

They chased, they hounded

the Demon's elk from its lair

behind Tapio's slope, the

bounds of the Demon's stronghold

in front of the man seeking

for the reciter to catch.

He, wanton Lemminkäinen

let fly his lasso

at the Demon's elk's shoulders

the camel-colt's* neck, so that

it did not kick wickedly

as he stroked its back;

then wanton Lemminkäinen

put this into words:

'Lord of the woods, land master

fair one living on the heath;

14:255-325

Mielikki, forest mistress

dear, generous forest crone:

come now, take the gold

pick out the silver;

put your linen on the ground

your best hempen stuff spread out

underneath the gleaming gold

and the glittering silver

without dropping it

getting it dirty!'

Then he set out for Northland

and he said when he got there:

'I've skied for the Demon's elk

from the Demon's furthest fields:

hag, give me your girl

give me the young bride!'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

this one answered that:

'I'll only give my daughter

and the young bride, when

you've bridled the great gelding

the Demon's bay horse

the Demon's foal whose jaw froths

from the Demon's furthest turfs.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

took his golden reins

a silver halter

sets off in search of the horse

to listen for the grass-mane

on the Demon's furthest turfs

and he trips along

whistles on his way

to a green acre

a holy field's edge:

there he seeks the horse

listens for the grass-hued, the

yearling's bridle at his belt

shouldering the foal's harness.

He sought one day, he sought two

till on the third day

he climbed a great hill

clambered upon a rock's back;

he cast his eyes eastward, turned

his head to below the sun:

on the sand he saw the horse

the grass-mane among spruces

and its hair flashed fire

its mane billows smoke.

Lemminkäinen says:

'O Old Man, chief god

Old Man, keeper of the clouds

governor of the vapours:

open heaven up

the sky all into windows;

rain iron hailstones

drop icy coolers

on the mane of the good horse

on the Demon's blaze-brow's flanks!'

That Old Man, high creator

god above the clouds

rent the sky into a rage

heaven's lid in half;

he rained slush, rained ice

he rained iron hail

smaller than a horse's head

but bigger than a man's head

on the mane of the good horse

on the Demon's blaze-brow's flanks.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

went over to look at it

to inspect it from close by

14:326-396

and he put this into words:

'O good horse of Demonland

mountain foal of frothing jaw:

put now your golden muzzle

slip your silver head

into golden rings

among silver bells!

I shall not treat you badly

drive you all that hard:

I'll drive you a tiny bit

but a little way

yonder to Northland's cabins

to a stern mother-in-law

and when I slap with a thong

or smack with a lash

I shall slap with silk

smack with a cloth hem.'

The Demon's bay horse

the Demon's foal whose jaw frothed

thrust then its golden muzzle

slipped its silver head

into golden rings

among silver bells.

So wanton Lemminkäinen

now bridled the great gelding

bridled the golden one, put

the silver one's headstall on;

he leapt on the good one's back

on the Demon's blaze-brow's flanks.

He lashed the courser

thrashed it with a willow switch

and he drove a little way

cantered up a fell

up the north side of a hill

the top of a snowy slope

and came to Northland's cabins.

He went indoors from the yard

said when he got there

when he reached Northland:

'I've bridled the great gelding

the Demon's foal I've harnessed

from a green acre

a holy field's edge

and skied for the Demon's elk

from the Demon's furthest fields

so now, hag, give me your girl

give me the young bride!'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

well, she put this into words:

'I'll only give my daughter

and the young bride when you have

shot the swan from the river

from the stream the splendid fowl

out of Tuoni's black river

from the holy stream's whirlpool

at a single try

raising a single arrow.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

went to the swan's whooping,* to

look for the long-neck

out of Tuoni's black river

from the dale of the Dead Land

and he swings along

warbles on his way

towards Tuonela's river

to the holy stream's whirlpool

shouldering his great crossbow

a quiverful on his back.

Dripcap the herdsman

the old blind man of Northland

14:397-460

is at Tuonela's river

at the holy stream's whirlpool

looking, turning round

for Lemminkäinen's coming.

One day among others he

saw wanton Lemminkäinen

arriving and coming close

there at Tuonela's river

beside the furious rapid

at the holy stream's whirlpool

and he raised a water snake

a serpent out of the waves

and hurled it through the man's heart

through Lemminkäinen's liver

through his left armpit

into his right shoulderblade.

Now wanton Lemminkäinen

felt a grievous pain.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'That was the worst thing I did

not remembering to ask

my mother, her who bore me

for two words by all accounts

(three would have been quite a lot)

how to be, which way to live

in these evil days: I don't

know the hurts of water snakes

the bites of serpents.

O my mother who bore me

pains-taker who cared for me!

If you knew, if you guessed where

your luckless son is

of course you would come dashing

you would hasten to help me;

you would free your luckless son

from this road away from death

from falling asleep while young

rolling over full-blooded.'

Then the blind one of Northland

Dripcap the herdsman

hurled wanton Lemminkäinen

lost the son of Kaleva

down in Tuoni's black river

in the worst whirlpool:

wanton Lemminkäinen went -

went down the rapid roaring

with the current in a flash

towards Tuonela's cabins.

That bloody son of Tuoni

struck at the man with his sword

bashed him with his brand

with one flashing stroke

smote the man into five bits

into eight pieces, tossed him

into Tuonela's river

into the Dead Land's eddies:

'Loll there for ever

with your crossbow, your arrows!

Shoot the swans on the river

the waterfowl on the banks!'

That was Lemminkäinen's end

the untiring suitor's death

down in Tuoni's black river

in the dale of the Dead Land.

15. Resurrection

The wanton Lemminkäinen's

mother at home keeps thinking:

'Where's Lemminkäinen got to

where has my Farmind vanished

that he is not heard coming

from his travels in the world?'

The luckless mother does not

nor the mean one who bore him

know where her flesh is moving

where her own blood is rolling

whether on a piny hill

heathery heathland

or was he on the high seas

on the froth-capped waves

or in a great war

a dreadful revolt

in which blood reaches the shin

redness is knee-deep.

Kyllikki the handsome wife

looks about and turns about

in wanton Lemminkäinen's

home, on Farmind's farm. She looked

in the evening at his comb

on the morrow at his brush

and one day among others

one morrow among many

blood was leaking from the comb

gore was oozing from the brush.

Kyllikki the handsome wife

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Now my man has gone from me

my fair Farmind has vanished

on travels without shelter

and on unknown roads:

blood is leaking from the comb

gore is oozing from the brush!'

Then Lemminkäinen's mother

herself looks upon the comb

and she gave way to weeping:

'Woe, luckless me, for my days

afflicted one, for my times!

Now the son of luckless me

now, hapless me, my offspring

has come upon evil days!

Ruin to the worthy boy

downfall to wanton Lemminkäinen:

now the comb is pouring blood

and the brush is oozing gore!'

With her fists she grasped her hems

with her arms her clothes

and soon she ran a long way

she both ran and sped:

the hills thudded as she went

the marshes rose, the slopes sank

the highlands came down

the lowlands went up.

She came to Northland's cabins

asked about her son -

she asked and she spoke:

'You mistress of Northland, where

have you led Lemminkäinen

where have you dispatched my son?'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

this one answered that:

'I know nothing of your son

where he has gone and vanished.

I sat him in a stallion's

15:68-137

sledge, a most fiery one's sleigh;

could he have drowned in slush, gone

solid on sea ice

or got into the wolf's mouth

the jaws of the dreadful bear?'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Surely you have lied!

No wolf eats my kin

no bear fells Lemminkäinen:

with his fingers he strangles

wolves, with his hands he fells bears.

Look, if you will not say where

you have led Lemminkäinen

I will smash the new kiln's door

and break the Sampo's hinges.'

The mistress of Northland said:

'I fed the man full

let him drink his fill

entertained him till he drooped;

I sat him in a boat's stern

sent him over the rapids.

But I cannot imagine

where the mean wretch has got to -

whether in foaming rapids

or in swirling streams.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Surely you have lied!

Tell the truth with care

and have done with lies

where you led Lemminkäinen

lost the Kalevala man

or else it will be your doom

you will meet your death!'

The mistress of Northland said:

'Suppose now I tell the truth:

I set him to ski for elk

flay the king of beasts*

bridle great geldings

and to harness foals;

I made him search for the swan

hunt the holy fowl.

Now I cannot imagine

what has come by way of ruin

by way of hindrance turned up

that he is not heard coming

to ask for a bride

to beg for a girl.'

The mother sought the one gone

astray, for the lost she longs:

she ran great swamps as a wolf

trod the wilds as a bruin

waters as an otter roamed

lands she walked as a pismire

as a wasp headland edges

as a hare lakeshores;

rocks she shoved aside

and stumps she tilted

moved dead boughs to the roadside

kicked dead trunks to form causeways.

Long she sought the one astray

long she sought, but does not find.

She asked trees about her son

longed for her lost one;

a tree talked, a fir tree sighed

an oak skilfully answered:

'I have worries of my own

without worrying about your son

for I was formed for hardship

was put here for evil days -

to be chopped up for stacking

15:138-204

to be hewn down for faggots

to pine away for kiln-wood

to be felled for slash-and-burn.'

Long she sought the one astray

long she sought and does not find.

She comes upon a small road;

to the road she bows:

'O small road, God's creature, have

you not seen my son

my apple of gold

my staff of silver?'

The road skilfully answered

it both declared and chattered:

'I have worries of my own

without worrying about your son

for I was formed for hardship

was put here for evil days -

for every dog to run on

every horseman to ride on

every hard shoe to walk on

every heel to scrape.'

Long she sought the one astray

long she sought, but does not find.

And she comes upon the moon;

to the moon she bows:

'Darling moon, God's creature, have

you not seen my son

my apple of gold

my staff of silver?'

That moon, God's creature

skilfully enough answered:

'I have worries of my own

without worrying about your son

for I was formed for hardship

was put here for evil days -

to travel the nights alone

to shine in the frost

to keep watch over winters

to vanish for the summer.'

Long she sought the one astray

long she sought and does not find.

And she comes upon the sun;

to the sun she bows:

'O sun, creature of God, have

you not seen my son

my apple of gold

my staff of silver?'

Well now, the sun knew something

the daylight reckoned:

'Your son, luckless you

has been lost, been killed

down in Tuoni's black river

the Dead Land's ageless water -

gone through the rapids roaring

with the currents in a flash

towards furthest Tuonela

to the dales of the Dead Land.'

Then Lemminkäinen's mother

she burst into tears.

She went to the smiths' workshop:

'Smith Ilmarinen

you forged once, forged yesterday

so forge today too:

helve a copper rake

prong it with prongs of iron;

forge prongs a hundred fathoms

long, prepare a helve of five!'

15:205-277

Smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

helved a copper rake

pronged it with prongs of iron;

forged prongs a hundred fathoms

long, prepared a helve of five.

She, Lemminkäinen's mother

gets the iron rake

flew to Tuonela's river.

She prays to the sun:

'O sun, God's creature, creature

of the Creator, our light:

shine for one moment sultry

for the next dimly swelter

for a third with all your might;

put the weary folk to sleep

tire the force of the Dead Land

wear down the host of Tuoni!'

That sun, God's creature, creature

of the Creator, daylight

flew on to a birch tree's crook

to an alder's warp it flapped:

it shone one moment sultry

for the next dimly sweltered

for a third with all its might

put the weary folk to sleep

tired the force of the Dead Land -

the young men upon their swords

and the old against their sticks

the middle-aged on their spears.

Then it slunk away

to the top of level heaven

to where it had been before

its former abode.

Then Lemminkäinen's mother

took the iron rake;

she rakes for her son

amid the roaring rapid

in the flashing stream:

she rakes and she does not find.

Then she shifted further down -

went all the way to the sea

in slush to her stocking-top

in water up to her waist.

She rakes for her son

along Tuonela's river

she dredges against the stream.

She dragged once, and for that twice:

all she gets of her son is

a shirt, much to her distress;

she dragged once again:

got his stockings, hat she found -

the stockings to her great grief

hat to her dismay. From there

she stepped even further down

to the dale of the Dead Land

dragged once along the water

next time across the water

a third athwart the water;

and it was the third time that

a mass of entrails came forth

on the iron rake.

Mass of entrails it was not

but wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

stuck on the rake's prongs

by his ring finger

and by his left toe.

Wanton Lemminkäinen rose

and Kaleva's son came up

on the copper rake

on top of the clear waters;

but there was a bit missing -

15:278-350

one hand, half his head

a lot of other

scraps, and breath as well.

There his mother thinks

and weeping she says:

'Could a man still come from this

a new fellow recover?'

A raven happened to hear

and this answers that:

'There is no man in one gone

in one come to grief: by now

whitefish have eaten his eyes

a pike has split his shoulders.

Let the man go in the sea

push him into Tuonela's river!

Perhaps he'll become a cod

do well as a whale.'

That Lemminkäinen's mother

will not push her son.

She dredges once more

with the copper rake

along Tuonela's river

both along it and across:

she gets some hand, gets some head

she gets half of a back bone

the other half of a rib

and many other scraps, built

from them some of a son, worked

on wanton Lemminkäinen

joining flesh to flesh

bones to bones fitting

and limbs to their limbs

sinews to sinew fractures.

She bound up sinews

knitted up ends of sinews

the yarn of sinew she tells

over, saying with this word:

'Sweet woman of the sinews

Sinew-daughter, sweet woman

comely spinner of sinews

with the sweet spindle

the copper distaff

and the iron wheel:

come here when you are needed

walk this way when you are called

a bundle of sinews in your arms

a ball of membranes under your arm

to bind up sinews

knit up sinew-ends

in the wounds that are cloven

in the gashes that are torn!

'Should not enough come of that

there's a lass upon the air

in a copper boat

in a red-sterned craft:

come, lass, off the air

maid, from heaven's pole

row the boat down the sinews

shake it down the limbs

row through gaps in bone

and through cracks in limbs!

Put the sinews in their place

and set them in their setting -

face to face the big sinews

the arteries eye to eye

overlapping set the veins

the small sinews end to end!

Then take up a fine needle

threaded with a silken thread:

sew with fine needles

with tin needles stitch

knit up sinew-ends

with silken ribbons bind them!

15:351-424

'Should not enough come of that

you yourself, god of the sky

harness up your foals

make ready your steeds!

Drive with your bright sleigh

through bone and through limb

through muscles and through

slippery sinews!

Join bone up to flesh

sinew up to sinew-end

silver the bone-gap

and gild the sinew fracture!

Where a membrane is broken

make the membrane grow

where a sinew is fractured

knit up the sinew

where the blood has spilt over

make the blood roll on

where bone has gone soft

fit some bone in there

where some flesh is loose

join flesh together

and bless it into its place

and set it in its setting -

bone to bone and flesh to flesh

and limbs to their limbs!'

Thus Lemminkäinen's mother

made the man, formed the fellow

with the life he had before

with the looks he used to have;

she had the sinews all told

the sinew-ends bound

but had not the man talking

not the child speaking.

Then she put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'Where now may ointment be got

a drop of mead brought

to anoint the weary one

to tend the ill-befallen

that the man may find his words

return to his tales?

O bee, bird of ours

king of forest flowers:

go now to fetch some honey

and to find some mead

out of pleasant Forestland

from careful Tapiola

from many flower petals, from

the husks of many grasses

to be ointments for the sick

and to heal the ill!'

The bee, a brisk bird

forthwith wafted off

into pleasant Forestland

to careful Tapiola:

it pecked flowers upon a lea

cooked honey upon its tongue

from six flower tips, from

a hundred grass-husks.

So it comes panting

travels doubled up

all its wings drenched in mead, its

feathers in melted honey.

She, Lemminkäinen's mother

took up those ointments, with them

anointed the weary one

tended the ill-befallen;

but no help came from them, no

words came to the man.

Then she put this into words:

'Bee, my little bird

fly that other way

right over nine seas

15:425-498

to an island on the main

a honeyed mainland

to Thor's new cabin*

the Worshipful's boundless one!

There is pleasant honey there

and good ointment there

which will suit sinews

and be good for limbs

so bring some of those ointments

bear some of those remedies

for me to put on the hurt

to pour on the injuries!'

The bee, a slight man

again flitted off

right over nine seas

half a tenth sea too:

it flew one day, it flew two

soon it flew a third as well

without sitting on a reed

without perching on a leaf

to the island on the main

the honeyed mainland

to a fiery rapid's brink

to a holy stream's whirlpool.

There honey was being cooked

salves were being made ready

in tiny cauldrons

in beautiful pans

that would hold a thumb

fit a fingertip.

The bee, slight man, got

some of those ointments.

A short time passes

a moment speeds by:

now it comes buzzing

hither and thither

six cups in its arms

seven at its back -

they're full of ointments

and full of good salves.

She, Lemminkäinen's mother

anointed with those ointments

with the nine ointments

the eight remedies:

still she got no help -

no, found none from it.

She said with this word

she spoke with this speech:

'Bee, bird of the air

fly there a third time

high up into heaven

above nine heavens!

There is mead in plenty there

honey to the heart's content

with which once the Creator

sang charms and the pure God talked

the Lord anointed his brood

injured by an evil power.

Dip your wings in mead, and your

feathers in melted honey

bring mead on your wing

and bear honey on your cape

to be ointment for the sick

to pour on the injuries!'

The bee, kindly bird

managed to put this in words:

'But how am I to get there -

I, a puny man?'

'You will get there easily

trip there handsomely -

over the moon, underneath

the sun, between heaven's stars.

For one day you will flutter

to the moon's brow-bones

15:499-570

for another you will whizz

to the Great Bear's shoulderblades

for a third you will soar up

on to the Seven Stars' back;

then 'tis a mite of a way

a tiny circuit

to where God the holy lives

to the blessed one's dwellings.'

And the bee rose from the earth

the mead-wing from the hummock;

now it fluttered off

whizzed on little wings.

It flew beside the moon's ring

the sun's border it skirted

past the Great Bear's shoulderblades

the back of the Seven Stars;

it flew to the Lord's cellar

to the Almighty's chamber.

There ointment is being made

and salves are being prepared

in pots of silver

and in pans of gold:

honey boiled in the middles

at the brims melted butter

mead at the south tip

at the north end salves.

The bee, the bird of the air

then got enough mead

honey to its heart's content.

A little time passed:

now it comes panting

arrives doubled up

with a hundred hornfuls in its arms

a thousand other bulges -

this one honey, that water

the other the best ointment.

Then Lemminkäinen's mother

took them into her own mouth

she tested them with her tongue

tasted them to her liking:

'These are some of those ointments

the Almighty's remedies

with which God has anointed

the Lord poured on injuries.'

Then she anointed the weary one

tended the ill-befallen -

anointed through gaps in bone

and through cracks in limbs

anointed below, above

slapped the middle once.

Then she put this into words

she declared, chattered:

'Rise up out of sleep

get up out of dream

from these evil places, from

the bed of hard luck!'

And the man rose out of sleep

he woke out of dream.

Now he manages to say

to tell with his tongue:

'Long I, wretched, have slumbered

ages I, hapless, have slept!

I've slept a sweet sleep

a sound snooze I've had.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said

she declared, chattered:

'You would have slept more ages

still longer you would have stretched

but for your poor old mother

for the mean one who bore you.

Say now, luckless son of mine

tell so that my ears may hear:

15:571-642

what led you to Death, pushed you

into Tuonela's river?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said

answered his mother:

'Dripcap the herdsman

Dreamland's sightless one -

he led me to Death, pushed me

into Tuonela's river.

He raised a snake out of the water

a dragon out of the waves

against woeful me

and I knew nothing of it

did not know the hate of water snakes

the bites of serpents.'

Lenuninkäinen's mother said:

'Alas for a mindless man!

You boasted of bewitching

witches, of singing at Lapps

but don't know the hate of water snakes

the bites of serpents!

From water the water snake was born

and the serpent from the waves

from the calloo's good brains, from

inside the sea-swallow's head.

On the waters the Ogress

spat, dropped a blob on the waves;

the water stretched it out long

the sun shone till it was soft.

Then the wind lulled it

and the water's breath rocked it;

the billows washed it ashore

and the surf steered it to land.'

Then Lemminkäinen's mother

lulled the one she knew

to the shape he had before

to the looks he used to have

till he was a bit better

even, fitter than before.

Then she asked her son whether

he was short of anything.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'There's a lot I'm still short of:

there my heart's desire

there my longing lies -

among those maids of the North

those fair braided heads.

The mould-eared dame of the North

will not give her girl

unless I shoot the

calloo, hit the swan

on that Tuonela river

on the holy stream's whirlpool.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said

she declared, chattered:

'Leave your blasted swans

let the calloos be

upon Tuoni's black river

the smoking whirlpools!

You just come home now

with your mean mother

and still thank your luck

your God known to all

for giving you real help

and bringing you back to life

from Tuoni's undoubted road

the abode of the Dead Land!

I could do nothing

nothing by myself

without the mercy of God

the guidance of the true Lord.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

went home straight away

15:643-16:32

with his dear mother

beside his honoured parent.

There now I lose my Farmind

leave wanton Lemminkäinen

out of my tale for some time

and I turn my tale meanwhile

I'll let the song go elsewhere

I'll push on to a new track.

16. To Build a Boat

Steady old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

was about to carve a boat

work on a new craft

on the misty headland's tip

at the foggy island's end

but the craft-smith needed trees

the boatbuilder planks:

now, who will seek wood

go after oak for

Väinämöinen's boat

for the singer's keel?

Pellervoinen, the field's son

tiny boy Sampsa -

he it is who will seek wood

go after oak for

Väinämöinen's boat

for the singer's keel.

He treads the road, steps

to north-eastern worlds:

he walked one hill, he walks two

soon he went a third as well

shouldering a golden axe

a copper haft on the axe.

He came up to an aspen

of three fathoms' height.

He wished to touch the aspen

to thrash the tree with the axe.

The aspen speaks up

and it finds its tongue:

'What, man, do you wish of me -

what anyway do you want?'

16:33-102

Boy Sampsa Pellervoinen

put this into words:

'This is what I wish of you

this is what I seek and want -

a boat for Väinämöinen

some craft-wood for the singer.'

The aspen spoke more oddly

and the hundred-bough managed:

'Full of leaks a boat from me

and a craft likely to sink!

I am hollow at the base:

three times this summer

the maggot has eaten my

heart, the worm has laid my roots.'

Boy Sampsa Pellervoinen

at that fares further;

he thinks he will step

towards northern worlds

and he came upon a fir

of six fathoms' height.

He struck the tree with the axe

whacked it with his adze

he asked and he talked:

'Fir, could you become

a boat for Väinämöinen

and ship-wood for the singer?'

The fir blurted an answer

gave a great bellow:

'Not from me will a craft come

one that bears six ribs!

I am a gnarled fir:

three times this summer

the raven croaked at my top

the crow has cawed on my boughs.'

Boy Sampsa Pellervoinen

fares even further;

he thinks he will step

towards southern worlds

and he came upon an oak

of nine fathoms' girth.

He asked and he talked:

'Oak, would you become

the hull of a hunting-boat

or a war-craft's keel?'

The oak skilfully answered

and the acorn-tree managed:

'Indeed there is wood in me

for one small boat's hull

for I am no gnarled bean-pole

nor am I hollow inside:

three times this summer

this great summertime, the sun

has gone round my middle wood

the moon has gleamed at my top

cuckoos have called on my boughs

birds have rested in my leaves.'

Boy Sampsa Pellervoinen

took the axe from his shoulder

he struck the tree with the axe

the oak with the even blade;

soon he was able to fell

the oak, lay the fine tree low.

First he took the top away

and the base he cleaves right through:

from it he carved keels

planks without number

for building the singer's ship

Väinämöinen's boat.

At that old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

16:103-175

started building the boat with wisdom

making the craft with singing

from one oak's fragments

the brittle tree's bits.

He sang one tale, fixed the keel

he sang two, joined on a side

soon he sang a third as well

while he hewed rowlocks

and finished rib-tops

and joined overlaps.

When the little boat was ribbed

and the side joints joined

he needed three words

for putting on the handrails

for raising the prow

rounding off the stern.

Steady old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Woe, luckless me, for my days!

The boat did not reach waters

the new ship the waves!'

He thinks, considers

where to get words from

fetch the right spells from -

the scalps of swallows

the heads of a flight of swans

from a skein of geese' shoulders?

He set off to get some words:

he ruined a flock of swans

a gaggle of geese destroyed

no end of swallows;

but he got no word at all -

no word, not a half.

He thinks, considers:

'There would be a hundred words

under a summer reindeer's

tongue, in a white squirrel's mouth.'

He set off to get some words

take some mysteries: he cut

a field of reindeer open

a big beamful of squirrels;

from there he got many words -

all of them useless.

He thinks, considers:

'There I'll get a hundred words -

from Tuonela's dwelling, from

the Dead Land's ageless abode.'

He went to Tuonela for

words, to the Dead Land for powers

and he trips along:

for one week he trod through brush

for two weeks through bird cherry

for a third through juniper;

now the Dead Land's isle appeared

Tuoni's hillock gleams.

Steady old Väinämöinen

now shouted out loud

at that Tuonela river

in the dale of the Dead Land:

'Bring a boat, girl of Tuoni

a raft, child of the Dead Land

to get me over the strait

reach me across the river!'

A stunted girl of Tuoni

a squat maid of the Dead Land

was at her washing

pounding her laundry

in Tuoni's black river, in

the Dead Land's eddy.

She uttered a word, spoke thus

she declared, chattered:

'A boat will be brought from here

16:176-242

if the reason is stated -

what led you to Death

killed by no disease, taken

by no natural causes

shattered by no other doom.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Tuoni brought me here

and Death dragged me from my lands.'

The stunted girl of Tuoni

the squat maid of the Dead Land

put this into words:

'Now I have spotted a fraud!

For if Tuoni brought you here

Death dislodged you from your lands

Tuoni would have brought you when

he came, Death when he travelled

with Tuoni's hood over your

head, Death's mittens on your hands.

Say truly, Väinämöinen:

what led you to Death?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

there put into words:

'Iron has led me to Death

steel snatched me to Tuonela.'

The stunted girl of Tuoni

the squat maid of the Dead Land

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'There I recognize a fraud!

If iron got you to Death

steel brought you to Tuonela

your clothes would be pouring blood

would be gushing gore.

Say truly, Väinämöinen

say truly the second time!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered and spoke thus:

'Water has got me to Death

the billow to Tuonela.'

The stunted girl of Tuoni

the squat maid of the Dead Land

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I can see a liar!

If water got you to Death

the billow to Tuonela

your clothes would pour water, your

hems would be dripping.

Tell the truth with care:

what led you to Death?'

There the old Väinämöinen

is once more a fraud:

'Fire brought me to Tuonela

flame led me to Death.'

The stunted girl of Tuoni

the squat maid of the Dead Land

put this into words:

'I can guess a liar!

If fire had brought you to Death

flame to Tuonela

your curls would be scorched

your beard badly burnt as well.

Old Väinämöinen

if you want a boat from here

tell the truth with care

and have done with lies

about how you came to Death

killed by no disease, taken

16:243-308

by no natural causes

broken by no other doom.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'If I did lie a little

was a fraud the second time

now I'll tell the truth. I was

building a boat with wisdom

making a craft with singing;

I sang one day, I sang two

till on the third day

the poem-sledge smashed

the phrase-runner snapped: I've come

to Tuonela for a spike

to the Dead Land for a drill

to build my sledge with

to make my song-sleigh.

Now bring a little boat here

make ready your raft for me

to get me over the strait

reach me across the river!'

Truly Tuoni-daughter scolds

and Death's maid quarrels:

'Fool, for your folly

man, for your madness! You come

without cause to Tuonela

undiseased to Death's abodes!

Better it would be for you

to return to your own lands:

plenty have come here

but not many have returned.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Let a hag turn off the road

but even a worse man won't

nor a sleepier fellow!

Bring a boat, girl of Tuoni

a raft, child of the Dead Land!'

And Tuoni's girl took a boat;

on it old Väinämöinen

she gets over the strait, she

reaches across the river

and she put this into words:

'Woe to you, Väinämöinen:

you have come unslain to Death

still alive to Tuonela!'

Tuoni-daughter, good mistress

Dead Land Daughter, old woman

brought beer in a flagon, fetched

some in a two-handled one

and she put this into words:

'Drink up, old Väinämöinen!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

looked down into his flagon:

there were frogs spawning within

worms on the sides clustering.

Then he put this into words:

'I did not come here to drink

the bowls of the Dead Land, to

lap the flagons of Tuoni:

beer drinkers get drunk

guzzlers of the jug fall down.'

And Tuonela's mistress said:

'Old Väinämöinen

what did you come to Death for

why to Tuonela's cabins

before Tuoni wished, before

you were summoned from Death's lands?'

16:309-381

The old Väinämöinen said:

'As I was carving a boat

was working on a new craft

I needed three words

to round off the stern

and to raise the prow;

when I could get them nowhere

not find them on lands, in skies

I must come to Tuonela

go to Death's abodes

where I'd get those words

learn those mysteries.'

That mistress of Tuonela

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Tuoni gives no words

Death does not share power!

You won't get away from here

ever in this world

to go to your home

to crawl to your lands.'

And she wore the man to sleep

made the traveller lie down

upon Tuoni's bed of rugs

and there the man is lying

the fellow taking a sleep:

the man lay, the bedclothes watched.

In Tuonela was a hag

an old hag of pointed chin

a spinner of iron yarn

a caster of copper threads:

she spun a hundred-mesh seine

and a thousand-mesh she wound

in one summer night

upon one wet rock.

In Tuonela was a man

an old man with three fingers

a weaver of iron nets

a maker of copper seines:

he wove the hundred-mesh seine

the thousand-mesh he knitted

that same summer night

on the same wet rock.

Tuoni's son of hooked finger

of hooked finger iron-tipped

he drew the hundred-mesh seine

across Tuonela's river

both across it and along

and athwart it too, to stop

Väinämöinen getting out

the man of Calm Waters free

ever in this world

not in a month of Sundays

from Tuonela's dwellings, from

the Dead Land's ageless abodes.

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Could my ruin have come, my

day of trouble have arrived

in these Tuonela cabins

these abodes of the Dead Land?'

Soon he changed his shape

promptly became something else -

went as something black to sea

as an otter to the sedge;

he crawled as an iron worm

moved as a viperish snake

across Tuonela's river

through Tuoni's netting.

Tuoni's son of hooked finger

of hooked finger iron-tipped

walked early in the morning

to look at his nets:

he has a hundred sewin

16:382-17:32

and a thousand fry, but he

has not caught Väinämöinen

the old man of Calm Waters.

At that old Väinämöinen

when he came from Tuonela

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'May the good God not

may he not bring this about -

he who himself went to Death

penetrated Tuonela!

Plenty have got there

few have come from there

from Tuonela's dwellings, from

the Dead Land's ageless abodes.'

He put this too into words

he declared, thus told

the youngsters rising

the folk coming up:

'Don't, children of man

ever in this world

lay the guilt on the guiltless

or the blame on the blameless!

Wages are ill paid

there in Tuonela's dwellings:

the guilty have a place there

those to blame have beds

the bedsteads are of hot rocks

of burning boulders

the quilts of vipers, of snakes

woven from Tuoni's maggots.'

17. Inside the Giant

Steady old Väinämöinen

when he got no words

from Tuonela's dwellings, from

the Dead Land's ageless abodes

keeps considering

and long he ponders

where to get words from

fetch the right spells from.

He meets a herdsman

who put this in words:

'You will get a hundred words

and a thousand tale-charms from

Antero Vipunen's* mouth

from the word-hoarder's belly.

But he has to be gone to

and the track picked out -

it is not a good journey

but not quite the worst either:

at first you must run

upon women's needle points

then next you must walk

on a man's sword tips*

and third must amble

on a fellow's hatchet blades.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

certainly meant to go. He

ducks into the smith's workshop

and says with this word:

'Smith Ilmarinen

forge iron footwear

forge iron gauntlets

make an iron shirt!

17:33-104

Prepare an iron cowlstaff

obtain one of steel:

put steel at its core

and on top draw soft iron!

I am off to get some words

take some mysteries

from the word-hoarder's belly

Antero Vipunen's mouth.'

Smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Vipunen has long been dead

Antero for ages has

vanished, left the trap he'd set

the path he'd baited;

from there you will get no word -

no, not even half a word.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

still went, did not heed:

for one day he stepped clinking

upon women's needle points

for two he rambled along

upon men's sword tips

for a third too he ambled

on a fellow's hatchet blades.

Vipunen, he full of tales

old man word-hoarder

he lolls with his tales

with his spells he sprawls;

an aspen grew upon his shoulders

on his eyebrows a birch rose

an alder upon his chin

a willow shrub on his beard

on his brow a squirrel-spruce

a cony fir on his teeth.

Now Väinämöinen comes: he

drew his sword, snatched the iron

out of the holder of hide

out of the belt of leather;

he felled the aspen from the shoulders

from the eyebrows toppled the birches

from the jaws the broad alders

the willow shrubs from the beard

from the brow felled the squirrel-spruces

the cony firs from the teeth.

He plunged the iron cowlstaff

into Antero Vipunen's mouth

in his grinning gums

in his squelching jaws

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Rise up, serf of man

from where you lie underground

from the long sleep you're taking!'

That Vipunen full of tales

was startled from sleep.

He felt the one touching hard

and with pain the one teasing:

he bit the iron cowlstaff

he bit off the soft iron

but he could not bite the steel

could not eat the iron core.

At that old Väinämöinen's

(as he stood beside the mouth)

other foot stumbles

his left foot slithers into

Antero Vipunen's mouth

on his jawbone slid

and Vipunen full of tales

at once opened his mouth more

flung his jaw-posts wide -

swallowed the man with his sword

into his throat gulped

old Väinämöinen.

17:105-175

There Vipunen full of tales

put this into words:

'I've eaten a thing or two:

I've eaten ewe, eaten goat

eaten barren cow

eaten boar, but I

have not yet eaten

a morsel that tastes like this!'

Old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'My ruin could be coming

my day of trouble looming

in this lair of a demon

this inglenook of the grave.'

He thinks, considers

how to be, which way to live.

At his belt he has a knife

with a curly-birch handle;

out of it he built a boat

he built a boat with wisdom.

He rows, he glides from

gut end to gut end

he rowed every nook

every cranny he went round.

Old Vipunen full of tales

was not going to heed that.

Then the old Väinämöinen

made himself into a smith

became a blacksmith; he changed

his shirt into a workshop

his shirtsleeves into bellows

his coat into a blower

his trousers he turned to pipes

stockings to pipe-mouthpieces

his knee into an anvil

to a hammer his elbow.

He hammers away

he tap-taps away;

hammered all night without rest

all day without a breather

in the word-hoarder's belly

the eloquent one's bosom.

Then Vipunen full of tales

put this into words:

'What kind of man may you be

what sort of fellow? I have

eaten a hundred fellows

destroyed a thousand men, but

I don't think I've eaten such:

coal is coming into my

mouth, firebrands on to my tongue

iron dross into my throat!

Go now, wonder, on your way

earth's evil, get a move on

before I seek your mother

and fetch your honoured parent!

If I tell your mother, speak,

report you to your parent

mother has more work

great trouble a parent has

when her son does wrong

her child misbehaves.

I have no idea at all

cannot guess your Origin

demon, where you latched on from

pest, where you have come here from

to bite, to nibble

to eat and to gnaw: are you

disease the Lord created

death decreed by God

or are you man-made

17:176-248

brought and wrought by someone else

put here for payment

set up for money?

If disease, the Lord's creature

death decreed by God

I will trust my Creator

cast myself upon my God:

he'll not cast away the good

he'll not let the fair be lost.

But if you are man-made, a

problem caused by someone else

be sure I shall learn your kin

I'll find out where you were born!

'From there problems used to spring

from there plights arose -

from the haunts of men who know

the pastures of singing men

the homes of scoundrels

the grounds of wizards;

from there - the heaths of the grave

from inside the earth

from the home of a dead man

from the farm of one vanished

from crumbling soils, from

earth being disturbed

from whirling gravels

from sands that jingle

from marshy hollows

from swamps without moss

from overflowing

mires, from spilling springs

from a forest demon's lair

a gorge between five mountains

from a copper slope's summit

a coppery peak

from spruces that whisper, from

firs that sough and sigh

from a rotten pine tree's top

from the decayed heads of pines

from where the fox screams

from heaths where elk is hunted

from the bruin's rocky den

the bear's craggy cell

from the furthest North

from Lapland's vastness

from the barren glades

from the unsown lands

from great battlefields

from men's killing-grounds

from rustling grasses

from the steaming gore

from the great high seas

from the open expanses

from the sea's black mud

from a thousand fathoms down

from the rushing streams

the smoking whirlpools

from Rutja's steep rapid, from

the swirl of mighty water

from the further heavens, from

the furthest fair-weather clouds

the thoroughfares of the gale

the nurseries of the wind.

Is that where you too sprang from

and where, plight, you arose from

to enter my guiltless heart

my blameless belly

to eat and to gnaw

to bite, to devour?

'Ease now, Demon's hound

soften, Dead Land's cur

leave my lap, scoundrel

grim of the earth, my liver

17:249-319

from eating my inmost heart

scrabbling at my spleen

fulling my belly

twisting up my lungs

chewing my navel

grasping at my bowels

crunching my back bones

slashing at my sides!

Should I not be man enough

I will put in my betters

to solve this problem

lose this dreadful thing.

I raise from earth the soil-dames

from the field the first masters

from the earth all the swordsmen

from the sand all the horsemen

to be my strength and my power

my support and my refuge

in this hard labour

in this grievous pain.

'Should it not heed even that

and not yield even a bit

rise, O forest, with your men

junipers with your people

pines with your household

O still pool with your children

a hundred men armed with swords

a thousand iron fellows

to chafe this demon

crumple this judas!

'Should it not heed even that

and not yield even a bit

rise from the water, water

mistress, blue-capped from the waves

fine-hemmed from the mire

clear of face out of the mud

to be a small fellow's strength

and a little man's manhood

lest I'm eaten without cause

killed without disease!

'Should it not heed even that

and not yield even a bit

O dame, nature's girl

O handsome woman of gold

who are the eldest of wives

the first of matrons

come now to feel out the pains

to oust the days of trouble

to deal with this deal

ward off this attack!

'But should it not heed

not give way even a bit

Old Man at the pole of heaven

at the thundercloud's edges

come here when you are needed

make your way when you are asked

to undo the wretched deeds

take away the woes

with a sword of fiery blade

with a sparkling brand!

'Go now, wonder, on your way

earth's evil, get a move on!

There is no room here for you

even if you needed room:

move your house elsewhere

your dwelling-place further off

to where your master sits down

to where your mistress steps out!

When you have got there

reached your journey's end

at the haunts of your maker

17:320-391

the pastures of your builder

show that you are there, give a

secret sign that you've arrived -

a boom like thunder

a flash like lightning!

Kick the gate of the yard, throw

open the window shutter

and from there sidle within

fly as a whirlwind indoors

and grab by the hock

by their skinniest heel

your masters crouched at the rear

mistresses crouched by the door

and gouge out the master's eye

and smash the mistress's head

bend their fingers the wrong way

and twist their heads round and round!

'If little should come of that

fly as a cock to the lane

as a hen's chick to the farm

abreast of the rubbish heap:

crush the horse at the manger

and the horned beast in the byre

stick its horns in filth

drop its tail upon the floor

turn their eyes askew

and give their necks a quick jerk!

'If you're a wind-borne disease

wind-borne, water-driven

shared out by the gale

carried by chill air

go by the wind's way

by the gale's sledge track

without sitting in a tree

or resting in an alder

to a copper slope's summit

a coppery peak

there to be lulled by the wind

cared for by the gale!

If you've come from heaven, from

the furthest fair-weather clouds

rise again to heaven

go up there into the sky

to the drizzling clouds

to the trembling stars

to smoulder as fire

to sparkle as sparks

where the sun drives, where

the moon-ring revolves!

Should you, weakling, have been drawn

by water, by billows driven

weakling, enter the water

and drive below the billows

to the mud-stronghold's edges

the water-ridge's shoulders

there to be driven by the billows

tossed by the gloomy water!

Should you be from the grave's heath

the abodes of ever-gone

try hard to get home

to those farmyards of the grave

to the crumbling soils

earth being disturbed

in which people have fallen

strong folk have toppled!

'If, evil one, you have come

from a forest demon's lair

from hideouts of pine

from lodges of fir

that is where I banish you -

to the forest demon's lair

the lodges of fir

17:392-463

the hideouts of pine

that you may stay there

until the floors rot

and the wall beams grow mushrooms

and the roof comes tumbling down.

There I banish you

there, wretch, I compel you - to

gaffer bruin's home

to gammer bear's farm

to marshy hollows

upon unthawed swamps

into moving mires

into spilling springs

into pools that are

fishless, quite perchless.

'Should you not get a place there

yonder I will banish you -

to the furthest North

to Lapland's vastness

to the barren glades

to the unsown lands

where there is no moon, no sun

nor daylight for evermore.

You will enjoy being there

you will love it flitting there:

elk have been hung up on trees

the kings of beasts overcome

for a hungry man to eat

for one who wants it to bite.

There I banish you

there tell and compel you - to

Rutja's steep rapid

the smoking whirlpool

into which trees fall headlong

pines roll root and branch

the great firs base first plunging

the shock-headed pines top first:

swim there, bad heathen

in the rapid's steep foaming

in the wide waters swirl round

in the narrow waters dwell!

'Should you not get a place there

yonder I will banish you -

to Tuoni's black river, to

the Dead Land's eternal brook

from where you'll never get out

never in this world be free

unless I get to letting you out

get round to unloosing you

with nine wethers, born

of a single ewe

with nine oxen, calves

of a single cow

with nine stallions, foals

of a single mare.

If you should ask for a lift

beg for draught horses - oh, yes

I'll arrange a lift for you

and I'll give you a draught horse:

the Demon has a good horse

one with red hair on a fell

whose muzzle flashed fire

its snout flame indeed

all its hoofs are of iron

its haulers of steel;

they can go uphill

raise a hollow to a bank

with a good man at the reins

with a strict driver.

'Should not enough come of that

get the Demon's skiing-things

the Devil's alder snowshoes

17:464-536

the evil one's thick ski-stick

to ski on the Demon's lands

and to roam the Devil's groves

hopping on the Demon's lands

skipping on the evil one's!

A rock lies across the road:

let it smash to bits;

a log lies along the road:

let this snap in two;

a fellow stands in the road:

send him to one side!

'Go now, idler, on your feet

evil man, get a move on

before the day breaks

and the dawn god dawns

and the sun comes up

and the cockcrow sounds!

Now's the idler's on-foot time

the evil one's move-on time

with moonlight for your going

brightness for your wandering.

Should you not quickly

yield, depart, motherless cur

I'll get claws from an eagle

talons from a blood-drinker

grippers of flesh from a bird

graspers from a hawk

with which I will seize scoundrels

set the wicked for ever

so that their heads will not twitch

so that their breath will not pant.

A created devil stopped

and a mother's son too strayed

when God's trance-hour* came

and the Lord's help unfolded:

will you not, motherless, stray

stop, unlucky brat

disappear, keeperless dog

and depart, motherless cur

with the ending of this hour

with the passing of this moon?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

then put this in words:

"Tis good for me to be here

sweet for me to tarry here:

the liver will serve for bread

the marrow to eat with it

the lungs will be right for stew

the fats for good food.

I will set up my anvil

deeper upon the heart-flesh

slam my sledgehammer harder

on still worse places

so that you'll never get out

never in this world be free

unless I come to hear words

and fetch the right spells

and hear enough words

and a thousand charms.

Words shall not be hid

nor spells be buried;*

might shall not sink underground

though the mighty go.'

Then Vipunen full of tales

the old word-hoarder

with great wisdom in his mouth

boundless might in his bosom

opened his word-chest

and flung wide his box of tales

to sing some good things

set some of the best things forth -

those deep Origins

spells about the Beginning

17:537-609

which not all the children sing

only fellows understand

in this evil age

with time running out:

he sang Origins in depth

and spells in order

how by their Creator's leave

at the Almighty's command

of itself the sky was born

from the sky water parted

from the water land stretched forth

on the land all growing things;

he sang of the moon's shaping

the sun's placing, the fixing

of the sky's pillars

heaven being filled with stars.

There Vipunen full of tales

indeed sang, showed what he knew!

Never in this world

was heard or was seen

a better singer

a more careful cunning man:

that mouth hurled forth words

the tongue flung phrases

as a colt its legs

a steed sturdy feet.

He sang day by day

night by night he recited

and the sun stopped to listen

the golden moon to take note;

billows stood still on the main

waves at the bay-end;

streams left off rolling

and Rutja's rapid foaming

and Vuoksi's rapid flowing -

and Jordan's river halted.

At that old Väinämöinen

when he had heard words

had got enough words

and fetched the right spells

sets about quitting

Antero Vipunen's mouth

and the word-hoarder's belly

the eloquent one's bosom.

And old Väinämöinen said:

'O Antero Vipunen

open your mouth more

fling your jaw-posts wide, so that

I may get out of your gut

on to the ground and go home!'

There Vipunen full of tales

put this into words: 'Many

have I eaten, many drunk

destroyed thousands all told; but

I've not yet eaten any

such as old Väinämöinen!

You did well to come:

you'll do better to return.'

Then Antero Vipunen

grinned and showed his gums

opened his mouth more

flung his jaw-posts wide:

old Väinämöinen

quitted the great wise one's mouth

and the word-hoarder's belly

the eloquent one's bosom;

slips out of his mouth

trips upon the heath

like a golden squirrel, or

a gold-breasted pine marten.

He stepped from there on his way

and came to his smith's workshop.

The smith Ilmarinen said:

17:610-18:33

'Did you get to hear some words

to fetch the right spells

for fixing the side

joining on the stern

and raising the bows?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Now I've got a hundred words

and thousands of charms, I have

brought the words out of hiding

unburied the spells.'

He went to his boat

on the knowledgeable stocks:

the little boat was finished

the side joint was joined

the stern-end ended

and the bows were raised

and the boat was born uncarved

the ship with no shaving pared.

18. The Rivals

Steady old Väinämöinen

thought and considered

going to woo the maiden

to look up the braided head

out in dark Northland

in dreary Sariola

the famous girl of the North

the special bride of the North.

He rigged the vessel in blue

in red the side of the craft

the bows he adorned with gold

and overlaid with silver.

One morrow among others

quite early in the morning

he pushed the boat out

the hundred-planked on the waves

from the rollers stripped of bark

from the stocks of pine.

He raised up his mast

on the mast he hoisted sails:

he hoisted a sail of red

and another sail of blue;

into the ship he goes down

into the vessel he steps

and he sailed off on the sea

sped off on the blue.

There he put this into words

he declared, chattered:

'Come now into the craft, God,

in the vessel, merciful

to be a small fellow's strength

and a little man's manhood

on those wide waters

18:34-106

upon those vast waves!

Lull, O wind, the craft,

billow, drive the ship

with my fingers not rowing

the water's sheen unbroken

on the wide high seas

upon the open expanse!'

Annikki, she of good name

girl of night, maiden of dusk

keeper of a long twilight

and morning's early riser

chanced to be at her washing

and soaking her clothes

at the end of a red stair

on a broad landing

on the misty headland's tip

at the foggy island's end.

She looks, turns her gaze

round the lovely air

towards the sky overhead

shoreward by the seas:

above, the sun shone

below, the billows glittered.

She cast her eyes seaward, turned

her head to below the sun

past Finlandia's* river-mouth

past Väinö-land's waters' end

spied a black speck on the sea

a bluish one on the waves.

She uttered a word, spoke thus

she declared, chattered:

'What are you, black on the sea

who, bluish upon the waves?

If you're a gaggle of geese

or a flock of dear calloos

then waft into flight

up into the sky!

If you're a shoal of salmon

or some other school of fish

splash into a swim

take off into the water!

Should you be a shoal of rock

or a log in the water

the billow would cover you

the water wash over you.'

The boat rolls nearer

and the new craft sails

past the misty headland's tip

past the foggy island's end.

Annikki, she of good name

now saw 'twas a boat coming

a hundred-planked one tacking.

She uttered a word, spoke thus:

'If you are my brother's boat

or perhaps my father's craft

wend your way homeward

and turn towards your own lands

with your prow to these moorings

your stern to other moorings!

If you are a stranger's craft

float further away

and make for other moorings

with your stern to these moorings!'

But it was not a home-boat

nor a stranger's craft:

it was Väinämöinen's craft

the eternal singer's ship.

He was approaching

pressing onward for a chat

to take one word, to bring two

to speak a third forcefully.

Annikki, she of good name

girl of night, maiden of dusk

18:107-176

began questioning the craft:

'Where are you off to, Väinämöinen

heading for, bridegroom of Calm Waters

and where, land's choice, making for?'

Well, that old Väinämöinen

speaks up from his craft:

'I am off to hunt salmon

to catch trout spawning

down in Tuoni's black river

the deep sedgy ditch.'*

Annikki, she of good name

put this into words:

'Don't tell empty lies, for I

too know about fish spawning!

Differently my father, my

honoured parent differently

used to go hunting salmon

trying for sewin:

he had a boatful of nets

a ship full of traps;

in it were seines, in it lines

water-beaters on the side

fishing spears under the thwart

long poles in the stern.

Where are you off to, Väinämöinen

roving to, Calm Waters man?'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'I am off in search of geese

to sport for bright-wings

to bag slobber-chops

upon the deep German straits*

on the open expanses.'

Annikki, she of good name

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I know one who speaks the truth;

I can spot a fraud as well!

Differently my father, my

honoured parent differently

used to drive off after geese

busy himself with red-mouths:

he had a big crossbow strung

a handsome bow drawn

a black dog chained up

the chain bound fast to the bow;

the cur ran along shore-roads

the pups scampered over rocks.

Tell the truth, Väinämöinen:

where after all are you bound?'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'And what if I were going

to those mighty wars

to those well-matched fights

in which blood reaches the shin

redness is knee-deep?'

But Annikki keeps saying

the tin-breast persists:

'I know warmongering too!

When my father used to go

to those mighty wars

to those well-matched fights

he'd a hundred men rowing

a thousand sitting about

crossbows bristling at the prow

swords bare at the thwarts.

Now tell me the truth

without lying or fooling:

where are you off to, Väinämöinen,

heading for, Calm Waters man?'

Then the old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

18:177-246

'Come, girlie, into my craft

maid, into my little boat:

then I'll tell the truth

without lying or fooling!'

But Annikki says a word

the tin-breast rebuked:

'May the wind fall on your craft

the gale on your little boat!

I will overturn your craft

and topple your bows, if I

do not get to hear the truth

where you mean to go

to hear the truth told with care

and the end of lies.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'All right, I will tell the truth

if I did lie a little:

I am off to woo the maid

to beg for the lass

out in dark Northland

in dreary Sariola

the man-eating, the

fellow-drowning place.'

Annikki, she of good name

girl of night, maiden of dusk

when she knew the truth

without lying or fooling

left her veils unrinsed

and her clothes unsoaked

on the broad landing

at the end of the red stair.

In her hands she scooped her clothes

in her fists she grasped her hems

then she was away

she broke straight into a run

and she comes to the smith's home

she steps into the workshop.

'Twas the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

was forging an iron bench

one of silver was working

an ell of dust on his head

a fathom of coal on his shoulders.

Annikki stepped to the door

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Brother, smith Ilmarinen

O everlasting craftsman:

forge me a little shuttle

forge me some fine rings

two or three pairs of earrings

five or six belt chains

and I'll tell the truth

without lying or fooling!'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'If you tell good news

I will forge you a shuttle

I'll forge some fine rings

I'll forge a cross for your breasts

your ringlets I'll mend;

if you tell bad news

I will smash your old ones too

thrust them from you in the fire

shove them down into my forge.'

Annikki, she the good-named

put this into words:

'Smith Ilmarinen

look, you think of marrying

her who once you pledged with gifts

set aside to be your wife.

18:247-318

You're always tapping away

and all the time hammering;

all summer you shoe a horse

all winter you work iron

all night you repair your sleighs

and all day you make bobsleighs

to go off wooing

to get to Northland:

now smarter ones are leading

cleverer ones are ahead

taking your own girl

snatching your darling

who you looked for two years long

three years long you wooed.

Väinämöinen's on his way

on the blue high seas

in the stern of a gold-prow

with a paddle of copper

bound for dark Northland

for dreary Sariola.'

A pain assailed the smith, a

heavy moment the blacksmith:

the tongs slipped out of his grasp

from his hand the hammer dropped.

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'Annikki, my dear sister

I will forge you a shuttle

I'll forge some fine rings

two or three pairs of earrings

five or six belt chains:

heat the honey-sweet bath-hut

stoke up the mead-sweet sauna

with faggots chopped fine

with little splinters!

Make a bit of ash

and some lye stir up

to wash my head with

whiten my body

from autumn-hued coal

winter-hued forging!'

Annikki, she the good-named

slyly heated the sauna

with wood the wind had snapped off

a thunderstorm had beaten;

rocks she fetched from a rapid

brought them for stirring up steam

waters from a pleasant spring

from a trickling mire; she broke

a bath-whisk off from the scrub

a pleasant whisk from the grove

softened the honey-sweet whisk

on a honey-sweet rock's tip;

she made some ash sweet as curds

some soap sweet as bone marrow

soap that was sparkling

sparkling, lathering

for washing the bridegroom's head

for pouring on his body.

He, the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

forged the things the maid needed

mended her ringlets

while one bath-hut was prepared

and one sauna made ready;

thrust them into the girl's hand.

The girl put this into words:

'I have stoked up the sauna

heated the misty bath-hut

softened the bath-whisks ready

steeped the pleasant whisks.

Brother, bathe your fill

pour all the water you want

18:319-390

wash your head till it is flax

your eyes till they are snowflakes!'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

himself went to bathe

and he bathed his fill

he doused himself white -

washed his eyes till they glistened

his eyebrows until they bloomed

his neck till it was hen's eggs

all his body white.

He came in from the sauna

came unrecognizable

with his face mighty handsome

with his cheeks flushing

and he put this into words:

'Annikki, my dear sister

bring now a shirt of linen

fetch hard-wearing clothes

and with them I'll get ready

and fit to be a bridegroom!'

Annikki, she of good name

brought then a shirt of linen

for his sweat-free skin

for his naked flesh;

then narrow breeches

(those his mother stitched)

for his grime-free flanks

whose bones none could feel;

then she brought soft stockings, woven

by his mother as a lass

for his study legs

for his slender calves;

then well-fitting shoes

the best German boots

to cover the soft stockings

knitted by his mother as a maid;

and she fetched a blue cloth coat

with a liver-hued lining

to cover the linen shirt

which is all of lawn;

on that a homespun caftan

trimmed with four strips of broadcloth

to cover the blue cloth coat

and this is brand new;

a new thousand-buttoned fur

adorned with hundreds of adornments

over the homespun caftan

and this is trimmed with broadcloth;

and more, a belt for his waist -

a gold-bright cummerbund,* woven

by his mother as a lass

clicked when she was braid-headed;

and then bright mittens

gloves gold at the wrist

made by Lapp children

for fair hands to wear;

then a tall helmet

for his golden curls -

this was bought by his father

got when he was a bridegroom.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

clothed himself, prepared himself

dressed himself and decked himself

and then he said to his serf:

'Harness now a splendid foal

before the bright sleigh

for me to drive off

for me to go to Northland!'

The serf put this into words:

'We have six stallions

horses that eat oats.

Which of them should I harness?'

18:391-462

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'Take the best stallion:

stick the foal into harness

the bay in front of the sledge;

put on six cuckoos*

seven bluebird-bells

to drone on the collar-bow

to thud against the traces

so that the fair ones will stare

the lassies admire;

take a bear-skin there

for me to sit on

bring another, a sea beast's*

skin, to cover the bright sleigh!'

That perpetual serf

the hireling bought for money

stuck the foal into harness

the bay in front of the sledge;

put on six cuckoos

seven bluebird-bells

to drone on the collar-bow

to thud against the traces;

took a bear-skin there

for his master to sit on

brought another, a sea beast's

skin, to cover the bright sleigh.

He, the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

prays to the Old Man

and worships the Thunderer:

'Old Man, drop new snow

fling down fine fresh snow -

snow for the sleigh to slide on

fresh snow for the sledge to skim!'

And the Old Man dropped new snow

flung down fine fresh snow;

it covered the heather stalks

hid berry stalks on the ground.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

seats himself in the steel sledge;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Go now, luck, upon my reins

God, into my little sledge!

Luck will not snap the reins, God

will not break the sledge.'

He took the reins in one hand

seized the thong in the other

he hit the horse with the thong

put this into words:

'Gee up, blaze-brow, off with you

hemp-mane, get moving!'

He drives it leaping

along sandy sea ridges

beside mead-sweet straits, across

an alder ridge's shoulders;

he drove clattering on shores

jingling on shore sands:

gravel flew into his eyes

the sea splashed upon his chest.

He drove one day, he drove two

soon he drives a third

till on the third day

he startles Väinämöinen.

He uttered a word, spoke thus

he declared, chattered:

'Old Väinämöinen

let us make a pact

in case we compete in gifts

compete in wooing -

not to take the maid by force

marry her against her will.'

18:463-530

The old Väinämöinen said:

'I for one will make a pact

not to take the maid by force

marry her against her will.

To him the maid shall be given

who takes her fancy

without long yearning, without

bearing a grudge for ages.'

They drove on from there

each on his journey:

the craft ran, the shore rumbled

the stallion ran, the ground shook.

A little time passed

a moment sped by.

Now a grey dog barked

and the stronghold's hound

bayed in dark Northland

in murky Sariola;

it whined at first more softly

more fitfully growled

its rump nudging the field edge

and its tail sweeping the ground.

The master of Northland said:

'Just go, girl, and see

why the grey dog was barking

the flop-ear yapping!'

The girl skilfully answered:

'I've no time, my dear father:

there's a big byre to muck out

a big herd to be seen to

there's a thick grindstone to turn

and fine grains to sift;

the grindstone's thick, the grains fine

the grinder puny.'

Soft the stronghold's demon barked

fitfully the grey one growled.

The master of Northland said:

'Just go, hag, and see

why the grizzled one barks, why

the stronghold's floppy one yaps!'

The hag put this into words:

'I've no time, nor intention:

there's a big household to feed

breakfast to be got ready

thick bread to be baked

dough to be patted;

the bread's thick, the grains are fine

the baker puny.'

The master of Northland said:

'Hags are always in a rush

daughters are always busy -

even roasting on the stove

seat, even stretched out in bed.

You go, son, and see!'

The son put this into words:

'I've no time to look:

there's a blunt axe to sharpen

a thick log to hew

a big stack to cleave

and faggots chopped fine to stow;

the stack's big, the faggots fine

the cleaver puny.'

The stronghold's tyke kept barking

the stronghold's hound bayed

the fierce pup bow-wowed

and the island's guard complained

its rump hard against the field

and its tail curled round.

18:531-601

The master of Northland said:

'No hoary one barks a lie

no aged one speaks idly;

it does not snarl at fir trees.'

He went to see for himself -

steps across the yard

to the furthest field

to the outermost barnyard.

He looked along the dog's snout

where its nose pointed he watched

towards the windy hilltop

the alder ridge's shoulders.

Now he saw the truth -

why the grey dog was barking

and the land's choice was at work

and the fluffy-tail lilting:

there was a red boat sailing

on the sea side of Love Bay

there is a bright sleigh speeding

on the land side of Meadwood.

He, the master of Northland

quickly goes indoors

under the roofs makes his way;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Strangers are coming

on the blue high seas -

driving up in a bright sleigh

upon that side of Meadwood

sailing up in a big ship

upon this side of Love Bay!'

The mistress of Northland said:

'How shall lots be cast

about the coming strangers?

O my little wench

put rowan twigs on the fire

the choice wood into the flame!

If it oozes blood

then war is coming;

but if it oozes water

we'll live on in peace.'

The tiny wench of the North

the meek serving-maid

stuck rowan twigs on the fire

the choice wood into the flame;

it oozes no blood at all

not blood, nor water:

it oozed out honey

it was trickling mead.

A crone spoke from a corner

an old hag under a cloak:

'If the wood oozes honey

and is trickling mead

then those strangers arriving

are a great bridal party.'

Then the mistress of Northland

the hag, the girl of the North

quickly slipped out to the yard

tripped out into the farmyard

casting their eyes seaward and turning

their heads to below the sun.

There they saw what was coming -

a new craft sailing

a hundred-planked one tacking

on the sea side of Love Bay;

the vessel shone blue

and red the side of the craft;

a clear-skinned man in the stern

with a paddle of copper.

They saw a stallion running

and a red sledge careering

a bright sleigh speeding

18:602-672

on the land side of Meadwood -

it had six golden cuckoos

on the collar-bow calling

seven bluebird-bells

upon the traces singing;

a full-blown man in the back

a fine fellow at the reins.

The mistress of Northland said

she declared, spoke thus:

'Which will you care to marry

when they come desiring you

to be a friend for ever

and a hen under their arm?

He who comes in the vessel

who sails up with the red boat

on the sea side of Love Bay -

that is old Väinämöinen:

he brings wealth by ship

and treasures on board.

He who drives up in the sleigh

speeds in the bright one

on the land side of Meadwood -

that's the smith Ilmarinen:

he brings empty lies

a sleighful of spells.

When they come indoors

bring mead in a flagon, fetch

some in a two-handled one;

put the flagon in the hand

of him you care to marry!

Give to Väinö-land's old man

who brings goods by boat

and treasures on board!'

Well, that fair girl of the North

knew how to say this:

'Mamma who bore me

O mother who brought me up

I'll not marry goods

nor sense in a man:

I'll marry good looks

beauty all over.

Never was the maid before

ever sold to property:

the maid shall be given free

to Ilmarinen the smith

who forged the Sampo

beat out the bright-lid.'

The mistress of Northland said:

'Ah, child, lamb! You will

marry the smith Ilmari

to care for a frothy-brow

to rinse out a smith's burlap

to be a smith's head-washer!'

The girl answers that

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I'll not marry Väinö-land's old man

to care for an ancient one:

woe would come from an old one

boredom from someone aged.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

was first to arrive:

he drove his red craft

sailed his blue vessel

up on to the steel rollers

up to the copper moorings;

he pushes indoors

under the roofs makes his way.

There he declared from the floor

at the door, beneath the beam

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

18:673-19:32

'Will you marry me, maiden

to be my friend for ever

a lifelong mate on my knee

and a hen under my arm?'

Well, that fair girl of the North

she hastened to say:

'Have you carved the little boat

and have you built the big ship

from the bits of my spindle

the pieces of my drawknife?'

The old Väinämöinen said

he declared, chattered:

'I have built a good ship too

and carved a tough little boat

that is steady in the wind

and stable in bad weather

to drive through billows

ride high sea waters:

as bubbles it bobs

as water lilies it glides

over the waters

of Northland, the froth-capped waves.'

Well, that fair girl of the North

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I will not praise a seaman

a billow-sailing fellow:

the wind tugs his mind at sea

his brains are cracked by the gale;

nor yet can I come

to you, cannot marry you

to be your friend for ever

and a hen under your arm

to lay out your bed

to place your pillow.'

19. Vipers, Beasts, Pike

Then the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

himself pushed indoors

edged his way under the roof.

A flagon of mead was brought

a jug of honey was borne

into smith Ilmarinen's hand.

The smith put this into words:

'Never, nevermore

not in a month of Sundays

shall I drink these drinks

before I can see my own -

whether my love is ready

ready the one I watch for.'

Well, that mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Big trouble your love is in

trouble the one you watch for:

one foot is half shod

the other still less than half.

Your love will be ready, fit

the one you will take, only

if you plough the viper-field*

turn the snaky one over

without a plough trampling it

without tines disturbing it.

For the Demon ploughed it once

the Devil himself tilled it

with tines of copper

with a plough of fiery share;

my own luckless son

left it half unploughed.'

19:33-104

Then the smith Ilmarinen

went into his maid's cabin

and he put this into words:

'Girl of night, maiden of dusk!

Do you remember

when I shaped the new Sampo

beat out the bright-lid?

You swore an oath for ever

before the God known to all

beneath the Almighty's face

and promised you would marry

me, a good husband

to be my friend for ever

and a hen under my arm:

now your mother will not give

not bestow her girl on me

with the viper-field not ploughed

the snaky one turned over.'

And the bride gave help*

the maid encouraged:

'Smith Ilmarinen

O everlasting craftsman

shape a plough of gold

work one of silver! With it

you will plough the viper-field

turn the snaky one over.'

Well, that smith Ilmarinen

put gold in the forge

his silver in the bellows

from it forged a plough

and he forged iron

footwear, steel leggings

and he puts them on

sets them on his legs;

dresses in an iron shirt

and belts himself with steel belts;

he took his iron gauntlets

fetched mittens of stone;

got then the fiery gelding

harnessed the good horse

and went off to plough the field

to till the acre.

He saw writhing heads

skulls that were rattling.

He says with this word:

'O worm, God's creature!

Who raised your nose up

who told, compelled you

to hold your head stiff

your neck erect? Shove

out of the way now

into the grass, wretch

down into the scrub

weave, sway in the hay!

If you bob up there

God will crack your head

with steel-tipped arrows

with iron hailstones.'

Then he ploughed the viper-field

he tilled the land full of worms

raised vipers on the ploughed soil

snakes on the soil turned over.

He said when he came from there:

'Now I've ploughed the viper-field

I've tilled the land full of worms

turned the snaky one over.

Will the girl be now bestowed

my matchless one given?'

Well, that mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'The maid will be given

the girl here bestowed, only

19:105-172

if you bring me Tuoni's bear

quell the wolf of the Dead Land

from Tuonela's backwoods there

the Dead Land's furthest abode;

a hundred went to quell it

but not one came back.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

went into his maid's cabin

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'A task has been set me - to

quell the wolves of the Dead Land

and bring Tuoni's bears

from Tuonela's backwoods there

the Dead Land's furthest abode.'

And the bride gave help

the maid encouraged:

'Smith Ilmarinen

O everlasting craftsman

out of steel make a bridle

forge a headstall of iron

upon one rock wet

with the foam of three rapids:

with them you'll bring Tuoni's bears

quell the wolves of the Dead Land.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

out of steel formed a bridle

forged a headstall of iron

upon one rock wet

with the foam of three rapids.

He went then to the quelling

and he put this into words:

'Mist-girl, Fog-daughter:

sift mist with a sieve

waft some fog about

where the wealth wanders

so it does not hear my step

nor flee before me!'

And he got the wolf bridled

and the bear in iron chains

from Tuoni's heath there

from within the blue backwoods.

He said when he came from there:

'Give your daughter, hag

for I have brought Tuoni's bear

quelled the wolf of the Dead Land.'

Well, that mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'The calloo will not be given

the mallard handed over

till you have got the great scaly pike

the quick fleshy fish

from Tuonela's river there

from the dale of the Dead Land

without taking up a seine

without turning a hand-net;

a hundred went to hunt it

but not one came back.'

Well, now things become painful

things turn out more troublesome.

He went to his maid's cabin

and he put this into words:

'A task has been set me, one

even better than before -

to get the great scaly pike

the quick fleshy fish

out of Tuoni's black river

the Dead Land's eternal brook

19:173-244

without a net or a seine

without any other trap.'

And the bride gave help

the maid encouraged:

'Smith Ilmarinen

don't worry at all!

Now, forge a fiery eagle

a wivern of flame:

with it you'll get the great pike

the quick fleshy fish

out of Tuoni's black river

from the dale of the Dead Land.'

Smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

forges an eagle of fire

a wivern of flame;

the feet he shaped of iron

of steel the talons

for wings the sides of a boat.

Up on to the wings he climbed

on its back he placed himself

on the eagle's wingbone tips.

There he advised his eagle

and the wivern he counselled:

'My eagle, my little bird!

Go flying where I tell you -

towards Tuoni's black river

to the dale of the Dead Land:

strike the pike great and scaly

the quick fleshy fish!'

That eagle, a splendid bird

flaps off on its way

flew to hunt the pike, to seek

the one with terrible teeth

in Tuonela's river there

in the dale of the Dead Land:

one wing ruffled the water

the other reached heaven

its feet scooped the sea

and its beak clattered on crags.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

goes off to harrow

that river of Tuonela

with the eagle standing guard.

An elf reared from the water

fastened on Ilmarinen:

the eagle leapt on its neck

twisted the water-elf's head

and rammed the head further down

towards the black mud.

Now comes Tuoni's pike

the water-dog veers along -

not a tiny little pike

nor a great big pike

with a tongue two axe-hafts long

teeth one rake-haft long

jaws the size of three rapids

its back long as seven boats:

it wanted to meet the smith

eat the smith Ilmarinen.

The eagle came winging along

the bird of the air beating -

no tiny little eagle

nor a really great big one

with a mouth a hundred fathoms wide

jaws six rapids wide

tongue six spear-shafts long

claws long as five scythes.

It spied the great scaly pike

the quick fleshy fish

lunges at that fish

battered at its scales

19:245-316

and then the great scaly pike

the quick fleshy fish

drags the eagle's claw

down below the clear waters.

The eagle rises

up into the air it goes:

it lifted black mud

on top of the clear waters.

It glides, it hovers;

yes, it tries a second time.

It sank one of its claws in

the terrible pike's shoulders

in the water-dog's hooked bones;

sank another of its claws

in a steel mountain

a cliff of iron.

But the claw bounced off the rock

it glanced off the cliff:

the pike thrashed about

the water-hulk slipped

out of the eagle's clutches

from the wivern's toes

with claw marks upon its ribs

with gashes on its shoulders.

Then the iron-foot eagle

made one more effort;

its wings flashed as flame

its eyes as clear fire:

it got the pike in its claws

the water-dog in its grasp

and raised the great scaly pike

hauled the water-hulk

from below the deep billows

on top of the clear waters.

Well, the iron-foot eagle

the third time it tries

yes, gets Tuoni's pike

the quick fleshy fish

from that Tuonela river

from the dale of the Dead Land:

water felt unlike water

because of the great pike's scales

air smelt unlike air because

of the great eagle's feathers.

Then the iron-foot eagle

carried the great scaly pike

to the bough of a stout oak

to a shock-headed pine's top

and there it tasted the taste

slashed the pike's belly across

ripped the breast open

hacked the head clean off.

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'You wretched eagle!

What kind of bird may you be

and what sort of fowl

that now you've tasted the taste

slashed the pike's belly across

ripped the breast to boot

hacked the head clean off!'

Well, the iron-foot eagle

at that flared up into flight -

up into the sky it soared

on to a long bank of cloud:

the clouds squirmed, the heavens mewed

the lids of the sky tilted

the Old Man's bow snapped

so did the moon's horny points.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

carried the fish-head himself

to be mother-in-law's gift.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

19:317-387

'Here is a long-lasting chair

for the good Northland cabin.'

Then he put this into words

he declared, chattered:

'Now I've ploughed the viper-fields

I've tilled the lands full of worms

quelled the wolves of the Dead Land

shackled the bears of Tuoni;

I've got the great scaly pike

the quick fleshy fish

from that Tuonela river

from the dale of the Dead Land.

Will the maiden now be given

the girl here bestowed?'

The mistress of Northland said:

'But you did wrong even so

to hack the head off

cut the pike's belly across

rip the breast as well

taste the taste to boot.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

put this into words:

'There is no catch without hurt

from even better places

let alone from Tuonela's river

from the dale of the Dead Land.

So is my love ready now

ready the one I watch for?'

The mistress of Northland said

she declared, uttered:

'Yes, your love is ready now

ready the one you watch for!

My dear calloo will be given

my duckling handed over

to Ilmarinen the smith

to sit for ever, to be

a lifelong mate on his knee

and a hen under his arm.'

There was a child on the floor

and the child sang from the floor:

'Now to these cabins has come

one more bird for our stronghold.

The eagle flew from north-east

the hawk across heaven;

one wing struck at the sky's rim

and the other swept the wave

its tail skimmed the sea

and its head reached heaven.

It looks, it turns round

it glides, it hovers, and it

settled on the men's stronghold

rattles with its beak;

the men's stronghold had an iron roof*

so it could not get inside.

It looks, it turns round

it glides, it hovers, and it

sat on the women's stronghold

rattles with its beak;

the women's stronghold was copper-roofed

so it could not get inside.

It looks, it turns round

it glides, it hovers, and it

settled on the maids' stronghold

rattles with its beak;

the maids' stronghold had a hempen roof

so now it could get inside!

'It settled on the stronghold chimney

from there dropped on the roof ridge

slid back the stronghold shutter

sat at the stronghold window

at the wall the green-plumed one

19:388-460

hundred-plumed at the wall joint.

It looks over the braid-heads

the plait-heads it sounded out

the best of the flock of maids

of the braid-heads the fairest

the brightest of the bead-heads

of the flower-heads the best known.

And then the eagle pounces

the hawk-bird snatches -

it seized the best of the flock

comeliest of the duck-crowd

the brightest, the softest, the

most full-blooded, the whitest:

'tis she the bird of the air

seized, the long-claw scratched

who was upright of bearing

and choice of body -

as to her plumes the sweetest

the finest as to feathers.'

Then the mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'How did you know, blessed one

and how hear, golden apple

that this maid was growing up

this flaxen-haired one moving?

Did the maid's silver glitter

was the maid's gold heard of there

did our suns shine there

and did our moons gleam?'

The child declared from the floor

and the one still growing crooned:

'From this the blessed one knew

the lucky dog found his way

to the maid's famous

home, to her fair farm:

father was well spoken of

after launching a great ship

mother still better

after baking a thick loaf

after making a wheat loaf

and providing for a guest.

From this the blessed one knew

and the utter stranger grasped

that a young maid had risen

that a lassie had sprung up:

when once he walked by the yard

stepped down by the sheds

right early in the morning

quite betimes on the morrow

soot was rising like a thread

smoke was thickly escaping

from the maid's famous

home, from the growing one's farm;

the maid herself was grinding

swaying at the quern handle:

the quern handle as a cuckoo called

as a bean goose the quern bridge

the quern disc as a bunting

the quern as a bead rattled.

He went from there once more, stepped

along the edge of the field:

the maid on maddery ground

was tripping on yellow heaths

brewing potfuls of red dye

boiling pans of yellow dye.

He went a third time as well

passed below the maid's window

and he heard the maid weaving

the reed in her hand slamming

and the little shuttle whizzed

like a stoat in a rock-hole

the reed-teeth were tapping like

a woodpecker on a tree

19:461-518

and the breast beam was whirring

like a squirrel on a bough.'

Then the mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'So there, so there, little maid!

Haven't I always told you:

in the spruces don't cuckoo

and don't sing in the valleys

or show your neck's curviness

or your arm's whiteness

the ripeness of your young breast

or the rest of your glory!

All autumn I hurled it forth

I dinned it in this summer

through the fleeting spring

the next sowing-time:

let us build a secret hut

small secret windows

for a maiden to weave cloth

squeak away with four heddles

unheard by Finnish bridegrooms -

by Finnish bridegrooms, the land's suitors!'

The child declared from the floor

and the fortnight-old piped up:

"Tis easy to hide a horse

to cover up a coarse-hair

but 'tis wrong to hide a maid

to keep secret a long-hair.

Though you build a stone stronghold

amid the high seas

there to hold wenches

to rear hens of yours

they will be no secret there

nor will the lassies grow up

out of reach of great bridegrooms

great bridegrooms, the land's suitors

men with tall helmets

horses with steel hoofs.'

As for old Väinämöinen

his head down, in bad spirits

as he went homeward

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Woe is me, a weary man

for I did not know

to marry young, to

seek at the time of my life!

He regrets his all

who regrets a young marriage

having a child when a child

founding a family when small.'

There Väinämöinen forbade

the man of Calm Waters banned

the old from seeking the young

trying for the fair;

forbade swimming recklessly

and rowing rashly

and competing for a maid

with another, younger man.

20. Slaughtering and Brewing

What shall we sing about now

which tale shall we lilt?

We'll sing about this

and we'll lilt this tale -

of that Northland feast

those revels of the godly.*

Long the wedding was laid in

and the goods were made ready

in those cabins of Northland

in Sariola's buildings.

And what was brought there

and which was taken

to the North's long feast

the great crowd's revels

to nourish the folk

to feed the great crowd?

There grew an ox in Karelia

in Finland a bull fattened;

it was neither great nor small

but 'twas a calf and a half!*

Down in Häme its tail waved

its head swayed up at Kemi River*

horns a hundred fathoms long

muzzle half as thick again.

For a week a stoat turned round

in the space of one tether;

for a day a swallow flew

between the horns of the ox -

it only just reached the tip

with no rest in the middle;

for a month a summer squirrel ran

from the withers towards the tail-tip -

did not even reach the tip

nor in the next month make it.

That unmanageable calf

that great Finnish bull

from Karelia was fetched

to the edge of the North's field:

by the horns a hundred men

by the muzzle a thousand

held the ox as it was led

and brought to Northland.

And the ox lumbered about

at Sariola's strait-mouth

browsing in a mire

its back flicking clouds;

but there was no one to strike

down, to fell the land's grim one

in the ranks of the North's sons

in all the great kin

among the youngsters rising

nor indeed among the old.

There came an old man, a foreigner,

Virokannas,* a Karelian

and he put this into words:

'Hold on, hold on, hapless ox

for I'm coming with a club

and with my rod I will thump

you, mean one, upon your skull:

not for another summer

will you fiercely turn your snout

gape with your muzzle

at the edge of this field, nor

at Sariola's strait-mouth!'

The old man went to strike it

Virokannas to touch it

the Worshipful to hold it.

The ox waved its head

rolled its black eyes round:

20:70-143

the old man jumped up a spruce

Virokannas into brush

the Worshipful into a willow!

They sought one to strike

one to knock the great bull down

in Karelia the fair

on the great farms of Finland

in Russia's mild land

in the bold land of Sweden

in Lapland's broad distances -

the mighty land of Turja;

they sought one in Tuonela

the Dead Land, underground too -

they sought but they did not find

they searched but they did not see.

They sought one to strike

they looked for someone to fell

on the clear high seas

upon the vast waves.

A black man rose from the sea

a fellow burst from the waves

straight from the clear main

the open expanse.

He was not of the greatest

nor yet quite of the smallest:

he could lie beneath a bowl

stand beneath a sieve -

an iron-fisted old man

iron-hued to look upon;

on his head a rock helmet

on his feet stone shoes

a golden knife in his hand

with a bright copper handle.

So they got one to strike it

so found one to slaughter it -

Finland's bull one to knock it

down, to fell the land's grim one.

The moment he saw his prey

he dealt its neck a quick blow:

he brought the bull to its knees

made it slump over.

Did he make much of a catch?

Oh no, not much of a catch -

a hundred pails of meat, a

hundred fathoms of sausage

and of blood seven boatfuls

and of grease six barrelfuls

for that Northland feast

that Sariola blowout.

A cabin had been built in Northland

a huge cabin, a great hut

nine fathoms along the side

and seven wide at the top.

When a cock crowed on the roof

the sound does not reach the ground;

a pup barking at the back

cannot be heard at the door.

Well, that mistress of Northland

shifted at the floor seam, paced

in the middle of the floor;

she thinks, considers:

'Now, what shall we get beer from

and skilfully brew the ales

to lay in for this wedding

this feast to be held?

I don't know how ale is made

nor the Origin of beer.'

An old man sat on the stove.

The old man spoke from the stove:

'Barley is beer's Origin

hop that of the well-known drink

though not born without water

nor without harsh fire.

Hop, son of hubbub

20:144-216

was stuck in the ground when small

was ploughed in as a viper

was tossed in as a nettle

down by Kaleva's well-side

on the bank of Osmo's field:

from it a young seedling rose

a green shoot came up;

it rose on a tiny tree

and towards the top it climbed.

Lord Luck sowed barley

on top of Osmo's new field:

barley grew beautifully

came up exceedingly well

on top of Osmo's new field

in Kaleva's son's clearing.

A little time passed.

Now hop called out from the tree

barley spoke from the field-top

water from Kaleva's well:

"When shall we get together

at what time meet each other?

Life alone is dull;

twosomes, threesomes are nicer."

'Osmo-daughter the beer-smith

the brewer woman

took grains of barley

six grains of barley

seven hop catkins

of water eight ladlefuls;

she put a pot on the fire

and brought the stew to the boil.

Out of barley she stewed beer

on a fleeting summer day

on the misty headland's tip

at the foggy island's end

in a grooved cask of new wood

inside a birch tub.

She got the beer brewed, but she

did not get it fermented.

She thinks, considers

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

"What may be brought here

and which thing may be looked out

for the beer, to ferment it

for the brew, to make it rise?"

'Kaleva-daughter, fair maid

the sweet of fingers

the ever brisk of movement

ever light of shoe

shifted at the floor seam, skipped

in the middle of the floor

busy with one, the other

betwixt the two pans;

saw a splinter on the floor

picked the splinter off the floor.

She looks, she turns it over:

"What would even this become

in the fair woman's hands, at

the good lass's fingertips

if I bore it to her hand

the good lass's fingertips?"

'Well, she bore it to her hand

the good lass's fingertips.

The woman with her two palms

squeezed it in both hands

against both her thighs

and a white squirrel was born.

And thus she advised her son

she instructed her squirrel:

"Squirrel, darling of the mound

flower of the mound, earth's delight:

run where I tell you

tell and compel you -

20:217-288

into pleasant Forestland

to careful Tapiola

and run up a tiny tree

skilfully up a bush-top

lest the eagle should snatch you

the bird of the air strike you;

bring cones from the spruce

and husks from the pine

bear them to the woman's hand

into Osmo-daughter's beer!"

'The squirrel knew how to run

the bushy-tail how to rush

how to run a long way fast

how to range afar swiftly

across one wood, along two

through a third somewhat athwart

into pleasant Forestland

to careful Tapiola.

It saw three forest spruces

four tiny pine trees

climbed up a spruce in a marsh

up a pine tree on the heath;

nor did the eagle snatch it

the bird of the air strike it.

It broke some cones from the spruce

some foliage off the pine

and hid the cones in its claws

wrapped its paws round them

bore them to the woman's hand

the good lass's fingertips.

And she stuck them in her brew

Osmo-daughter in her beer;

but the beer will not ferment

for the young drink to grow up.

Osmo-daughter the beer-smith

the brewer woman

keeps considering:

"What may be brought here

for the beer, to ferment it

for the brew, to make it rise?"

'Kaleva-daughter, fair maid

the sweet of fingers

the ever brisk of movement

ever light of shoe

shifted at the floor seam, skipped

in the middle of the floor

busy with one, the other

betwixt the two pans;

saw a shaving on the floor

picked the shaving off the floor.

She looks, she turns it over:

"What would even this become

in the fair woman's hands, at

the good lass's fingertips

if I bore it to her hand

the good lass's fingertips?"

'Well, she bore it to her hand

the good lass's fingertips.

The woman with her two palms

squeezed it in both hands

against both her thighs:

a gold-breast marten was born.

So she advised her marten

instructed her orphan child:

"My marten, my little bird

my fair precious-pelt:

go where I tell you

tell and compel you -

to the bruin's rocky den

to the forest bear's farmyard

where the bears fight, the

bruins live it up;

20:289-360

with your claws gather some yeast

in your hands scoop up some froth

bear it to the woman's hand

bring it to Osmo-daughter's shoulder!

'Well now, the marten could run

the gold-breast could dash along

and it ran a long way fast

ranged afar swiftly, across

one river swam, along two

through a third somewhat athwart

to the bruin's rocky den

the bear's craggy cell:

there the bears fight, the

bruins live it up

on an iron cliff

a mountain of steel.

Froth poured out of a bear's mouth

yeast from a massive one's jaws:

in its hands it scooped some froth

with its claws gathered some yeast

bore it to the woman's hand

the good lass's fingertips.

Osmo-daughter in her beer

dropped it, tipped it in her brew;

but the beer will not ferment

nor the juice of men bubble.

Osmo-daughter the beer-smith

the brewer woman

keeps considering:

"What may be brought here

for the beer, to ferment it

for the brew, to make it rise?"

'Kaleva-daughter, fair maid

the girl that's sweet of fingers

the ever brisk of movement

ever light of shoe

shifted at the floor seam, skipped

in the middle of the floor

busy with one, the other

between the two pans;

saw a pea plant on the ground

picked the pea plant off the ground.

She looks, she turns it over:

"What would even this become

in the fair woman's hands, at

the good lass's fingertips

if I bore it to her hand

the good lass's fingertips?"

'Well, she bore it to her hand

the good lass's fingertips.

The woman with her two palms

squeezed it in both hands

against both her thighs

and a bee was born from it.

And so she advised her bird

instructed her bee:

"O bee, bird so brisk

king of the turf flowers:

fly where I tell you

tell and compel you -

to an island on the main

a crag in the sea!

There a maid has gone to sleep

a copper-belt slipped away

with mead-sweet grass at her side

honey-sweet grass on her hem.

Bring some mead upon your wing

bear some honey on your cape

from a bright grass-top

from a golden flower petal;

bear it to the woman's hand

bring it to Osmo-daughter's shoulder!"

20:361-432

'The bee, bird so brisk

it both flew and sped

and it flew a long way fast

shortened distances swiftly

across one sea, along two

through a third somewhat athwart

to the island on the main

the crag in the sea.

It saw the maid gone to sleep

the tin-breast who'd pined away

on the nameless turf

the edge of the honey-field

with golden grass at her waist

with silver grass at her belt.

It dipped its wings in the mead

its feathers in the melted honey

on a glittering grass-top

a golden flower-tip

bore it to the woman's hand

the good lass's fingertips.

Osmo-daughter in her beer

stuck it, put it in her brew:

now the beer chose to ferment

the young drink grew up

in the grooved cask of new wood

inside the birch tub;

it foamed high as the handles

roared up to the brims

wanted to steer for the ground

to head for the floor.

'A little time passed

a moment sped by.

The fellows hurried to drink -

Lemminkäinen most of all:

Ahti got drunk, Farmind got

drunk, the full-blooded rogue got

drunk on Osmo-daughter's beer

on Kaleva-daughter's brew.

Osmo-daughter the beer-smith

the brewer woman

at that put this into words:

"Woe, luckless me, for my days

for brewing bad beer

making wayward ale

that has climbed out of the tub

and ripples upon the floor!"

A red bird sang from a tree

and a thrush from the eaves' end:

"It is no bad sort;

it is a good sort of drink

to tip into a barrel

to mature in a cellar

in an oak barrel

inside one with copper hoops."

'That's the Origin of beer

how Kaleva's brew began;

that's how it got its good name

its famous honour -

being a good sort

a good drink for the well-bred:

it put smiles on women's lips

men in good spirits

the well-bred making merry

but the mad leaping about.'

Then the mistress of Northland

when she heard beer's Origin

fetched a great tub of water

one of new wood to her side

in it put enough barley

and a lot of hop catkins;

she began to stew the beer

to stir the strong water round

20:433-503

in the grooved cask of new wood

inside the birch tub.

For months the stones were heated

whole summers the water stewed

backwoodsfuls of trees were burned

wellfuls of water were brought:

the backwoods ran short of trees

waters grew less at the springs

as the beer was being brewed

and the brew made up

for the North's long feast

the good crowd's revels.

Smoke burns upon the island

and fire at the headland's point;

thick smoke billowed up

a haze rose into the air

from the harsh places of fire

the plentiful flames:

it filled half the North

blinded all Karelia.

All the people glance

they glance, long to know:

'Where is the smoke coming from

the haze rising in the air -

too small for the smoke of war

too big for a herdsman's fire?'

Now, Lemminkäinen's mother

quite early in the morning

went for water from the spring;

she sees the thick smoke

in the northern skies.

She uttered a word, spoke thus:

'That is war-smoke, those

are flames of battle!'

He, Ahti the Islander

that one, fair Farmind

takes a look, turns round;

he thinks, considers:

'Suppose I wade out to look

inspect from close by to see

where that smoke is coming from

and the haze filling the air -

whether that is war-smoke, those

are flames of battle?'

Farmind did wade out to look

for the birthplace of the smoke:

there were no war-fires

nor flames of battle;

no, they were beer-fires

flames of a brew being stewed

at Sariola's strait-mouth

under the headland's cape's arm.

At that Farmind looks ...

An eye squints in Farmind's head -

squints, the other looks askance

the mouth twists the slightest bit.

At last he spoke as he looked

from across the strait he says:

'O my dear mother-in-law

kindly mistress of the North:

make excellent beer

and stew a grand brew

fit for the great crowd to drink

Lemminkäinen most of all

at that wedding of his own

with your young daughter!'

The beer was getting ready

the juice of men drinkable:

the brown beer was being brewed

the fair brew was maturing

lying underground

20:504-576

in a stone cellar

in an oak barrel

behind a bung of copper.

Then the mistress of Northland

she brought the stew to the boil

the pans to rumbling

the stewpans to clamouring;

then she baked great loaves

and great dumplings she patted

to take care of the good folk

to feed the great crowd

at the North's long feast

at Sariola's revels.

Well, the loaves were baked

the dumplings patted.

A little time passed

a moment sped by:

the beer throbbed in the barrel

the brew stirred in the cellar:

'If now my drinker would come

and my lapper were prepared -

my rightful cuckoo-caller

my proper singer!'

A singer was sought

a proper singer

a rightful cuckoo-caller

and a fair crooner:

a salmon was brought to sing

a pike to call rightfully.

But a salmon cannot sing

nor can a pike croon:

a salmon's jaws are agape

and a pike's teeth are spaced out.

A singer was sought

a proper singer

a rightful cuckoo-caller

and a fair crooner;

and a child was brought to sing

to call rightfully.

But no child can sing

no slobber-chops can cuckoo:

a child's tongue is shrill

and the root of the tongue stiff.

The brown beer threatened

and the young drink cursed

in the cask of oak

behind the bung of copper:

'If you don't find a singer

a proper singer

a rightful cuckoo-caller

and a fair crooner

I will kick my hoops away

my bottom I will force out!'

Then the mistress of Northland

sent the invitations out

the heralds on their errands

and she put this into words:

'Hey there, tiny wench

my perpetual serf:

call the folk together, the

crowd of men to the revels;

call the wretched, call the poor

the blind, even the troubled

the lame and the sledge-cripples;

row the blind in boats

drive the lame here on horseback

drag the cripples here by sledge;

call all of the North's people

and all Kaleva's people

invite old Väinämöinen

to be the proper singer -

but do not invite Farmind

that Ahti the Islander!'

20:577-614

Well, that tiny wench

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'And why not invite Farmind

Ahti the Islander too?'

Well, that mistress of Northland

she says a word in answer:

'You shall not invite Farmind

that wanton Lemminkäinen

because by all accounts he

quarrels, picks fights on purpose;

he's brought shame on weddings too

at feasts he has done great crimes

disgraced pure wenches

in their Sunday clothes.'

Well, that tiny wench

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'How shall I know 'tis Farmind

to leave him uninvited?

I do not know Ahti's home

the farm of Farmind.'

The mistress of Northland said

she declared, uttered:

'You will know Farmind all right

that Ahti the Islander:

Ahti lives on an island

the rogue by waters

at the broadest bay's

side, under Far Headland's arm.'

Well, that tiny wench

the bought drudge carried

the invitations six ways

and the summonses eight ways:

she called all the North's people

and all Kaleva's people -

those thin cotters too

and gipsies* in tight caftans;

only matchless Ahti boy

him she left uninvited.

21. The Wedding

Now, that mistress of Northland

old wife of Sariola

was outside awhile

busy with her chores.

From the swamp came a whip-crack

from the shore a sledge-rattle.

She cast her eyes north-west, turned

her head to below the sun

she thinks, considers:

'What's this band lying in wait

for poor me upon my shores?

Is it a mighty war-band?'

And she waded out to look

to inspect it from close by:

it was no war-band

but a great wedding party

the son-in-law in the midst

among the good folk.

When the mistress of Northland

old wife of Sariola

saw her son-in-law coming

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'I thought the wind was blowing

the woodstack toppling

the seashore rumbling

the gravel crooning

and I waded out to look

to inspect it from close by:

it was not the wind blowing

was not the woodstack toppling

was not the seashore yielding

was not the gravel crooning -

my son-in-law's band comes, by

the hundred in pairs they turn!

How shall I pick out

my son-in-law from the band?

The son-in-law stands out from the band

the bird cherry from the other trees

the oak tree from the saplings

the moon from the stars of heaven:

he is on a black stallion

as on a ravening wolf

on a raven bearing prey

upon a flying griffin

with six gold buntings

calling on the collar-bow

seven bluebird-bells

singing upon the traces.'

The noise is heard in the lane

the shaft-din on the well-path:

now the son-in-law reaches

the yard, his party the farm.

The son-in-law's in the midst

among the good folk -

he's for sure not the foremost

nor quite the hindmost.

'Away, boys, outside, fellows,

into the yard, tallest men

to tear away the breast straps

to pull away the traces

to let down the shafts

to bring in the son-in-law!'

The son-in-law's stallion runs

and the bright sleigh speeds

along father-in-law's yard.

The mistress of Northland said:

'Hey you, serf, hireling

fine village gipsy:

21:69-143

take the son-in-law's stallion

let the braze-brow out

from the harness of copper

the breast straps of tin

the leather traces

from the sapling collar-bow;

lead the son-in-law's stallion

guide it skilfully

by the silk bridle

by the silver-tipped headstall

to soft places for romping

to the level ground

to some fine fresh snow

to some milk-hued land;

water my son-in-law's foal

at the spring nearby

that stands unfrozen

and courses trickling

beneath the gold spruce's root

and the sprouting pine;

fodder my son-in-law's foal

from the gold basket

the box of copper

with washed barley, with white bread

with cooked summer wheat

with crushed summer rye;

lead the son-in-law's stallion

then to the snuggest manger

to the highest place

the furthest barnyard;

tie the son-in-law's stallion

with the golden band

to the iron ring

to the post of curly birch;

give the son-in-law's stallion

a gallon of oats

and one of hay husks

and a third of chaff;

comb the son-in-law's stallion

with a comb of walrus bone

that no hair may split

and no coarse hair come away;

drape the son-in-law's stallion

in the silver-trimmed blanket

in the gold-trimmed hood

in the copper-trimmed padding!

'Village lads, sweet doves:

lead the son-in-law indoors

with no hat upon his hair

no mitten on his hand! Wait -

I'll see to the son-in-law

whether he will fit indoors

without taking the door off

and pulling the doorpost down

raising the lintel

and lowering the threshold

knocking out the corner wall

and moving the bottom beam:

no, he can't be got indoors

the godsend beneath the roof

without taking the door off

and pulling the doorpost down

raising the lintel

and lowering the threshold

knocking out the corner wall

and moving the bottom beam

for he's taller by a head

higher by an ear.

Let the lintels be lifted

so that his cap's not knocked off

let the thresholds be lowered

so that his shoe heel's not touched

let the doorposts be dislodged

and let the doors swing open

as the son-in-law comes in

21:144-212

the real man steps inside!

Thanks to the fair God

the son-in-law has got in!

Wait, I'll look to the cabin

keep an eye on its inside:

have the tables here been washed

the benches sluiced with water

and the smooth boards wiped

and the plank floors swept?

'I will look to this cabin

but I cannot tell

what trees the hut was made from

what the shelter was got from

what the walls were put up from

and the floors laid down:

the side wall's of hedgehog bones

the rear wall of reindeer bones

the door-wall of glutton bones

and the lintel of lamb bones;

the beams are from apple trees

the post from curly birch trees

the stove sides out of water lilies

the roof of bream scales;

the seat was built of iron

the benches of German planks

the table adorned with gold

and the boards polished with silk;

the stove was cast in copper

the stove seat of good boulders

the hearth of sea rocks

the inglenook from Kaleva's trees.'

The bridegroom pushes indoors

under the roofs makes his way.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Welcome here too, God

under the famous roof beam

under the fair roof!'

The mistress of Northland said:

'Hail, hail and welcome

to this small cabin

to this squat abode

to this room of fir

to this nest of pine!

Hey there, my little serf wench

you village hireling:

bring fire on a birchbark scrap

snatch some on a tar-wood tip

for me to look at the son-in-law

and to see the bridegroom's eyes -

whether they are blue or red

or else white as cloth!'

The tiny serf wench

the village hireling

brought fire on birchbark

snatched fire on tar-wood.

'Birchbark fire crackles

tar-wood smoke is black;

'twould soil the son-in-law's eyes

and blacken his handsome looks:

now, bring fire on a candle

flame on one of wax!'

The tiny serf wench

the village hireling

brought some fire on a candle

flame on one of wax:

the white waxen smoke

the bright candle fire

lightened the son-in-law's eyes

brightened the son-in-law's face.

21:213-284

'Now I can see my son-in-law's eyes:

they're not blue, not red

nor yet white as cloth;

they're white as sea froth

brown as a sea reed

and fair as a sea bulrush.

Village lads, sweet doves:

lead this son-in-law

to the greatest seats

the topmost places

with the blue wall to his back

the red table to his front

facing the invited guests

amid the folk's din!'

Then the mistress of Northland

fed the guests, gave them to drink:

mouthfuls of melted butter

and fistfuls of cream pancakes

she fed those invited guests -

her son-in-law most of all.

There was salmon on the plates

and beside it pork

the cups were brimming

the bowls up to the bulwarks

for the guests to eat -

the son-in-law most of all.

The mistress of Northland said:

'Hey you, tiny wench:

bring beer in a flagon, fetch

some in a two-handled one

for all those invited guests -

my son-in-law most of all!'

Well, that tiny wench

the money-bought drudge

let the flagon do its job

and the five-hoop circulate

the hop soak the beards

and the froth whiten the beards

of all those invited guests -

the son-in-law most of all.

And what now could the beer do

what did that in five hoops say

when it was with its singer

its rightful cuckoo-caller?

It was old Väinämöinen

age-old wielder of a tale

who was the proper singer

the best cunning man.

First he takes some beer

then he put this into words:

'Dear beer, darling drink:

don't moisten a man in vain

but set the men singing, the

golden-mouths cuckoo-calling!

The masters marvel

and the mistresses wonder:

have the songs gone out of tune

the joy-strings come loose

or did I prepare bad beer

make a wretched drink to drink

that our singers do not sing

nor our good bards hum

nor our welcome guests cuckoo

nor our joy-cuckoos rejoice?

Now, who here will cuckoo-call

and who will sing with his tongue

at this Northland feast

these Sariola revels?

The benches here will not sing

if the bench-sitters do not

and the floors will not declare

if the floor-treaders do not

21:285-356

nor will the windows rejoice

if the window-masters don't

nor will the table-rims boom

if those at table do not

those smoke-holes will make no din

if those beneath them do not.'

There was a child on the floor

a milk-beard on the stove seat.

The child declared from the floor

from the seat the boy chattered:

'I'm of no great age

no mighty stature;

be that as it may

if others, plump ones, won't sing

and men, fatter ones, won't chant

nor fuller-blooded ones lilt

then I, a lean boy, will sing,

a skinny boy, I'll warble;

I'll sing from lean flesh

from unfattened flanks

to cheer this evening of ours

to honour the famous day.'

An old man was on the stove

and he put this into words:

'There's nothing in children's songs

in the cooing of wretches:

children's songs are lies

and daughters' tales are empty!

Let a shrewd man tell a tale

a bench-sitter sing a song!'

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Is there among these youngsters

in all the great kin

someone to put hand in hand

and clasp in another clasp

and to begin reciting

to burst out singing

to gladden the closing day

honour the famous evening?'

The old man said from the stove:

'Here there has been heard

either heard or seen

ever in this world

no better singer

no more careful cunning man

than when I cooed, I

carolled as a younger man

sang upon the bay's waters

and echoed upon the heaths

cuckoo-called in the spruces

recited in the backwoods.

My voice was great and graceful

my tone very fair:

as a river then it ran

as a stream it flashed

travelled like a ski on snow

a sailing ship on the waves.

But now I cannot recite

nor this can I rightly tell -

what has stifled my great voice

laid my sweet voice low: now it

does not as a river run

nor as waves ripple, but it

is like a harrow among

treestumps, a pine on hard snow

like a sledge on seashore sands

a boat on dry rocks.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'If no one else will

come and sing with me

21:357-429

I will launch into poems

and burst out singing alone:

since I've been made a singer

and turned out a reciter

I'll not ask others the way

a stranger to start a tale.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

age-old wielder of a tale

sat down for merrymaking

to song-work applied himself

with the joy-tales at his side

with the words at the ready

and old Väinämöinen sang

he both sang and worked wisdom:

words are not lacking in words

tales in the telling don't fail;

cliffs sooner lack rocks

and still pools water lilies.

And there Väinämöinen sang

the whole evening rejoiced:

all the wives with smiling lips

and the men in good spirits

listened, wondered at

Väinämöinen's turn of phrase

for 'twas a wonder to the hearer

and a marvel to the idler too.

The old Väinämöinen said

uttered when his tale ended:

'But still, what is there in me

of singer, of cunning man!

I can do nothing, am not

capable of anything.

Were the Creator singing

with a sweet mouth reciting

he would sing a song

he would sing and work wisdom:

he'd sing the seas to honey

the sea sands to peas

the sea's soil to malt

and to salt the sea's gravel

the broad groves to lands of bread

the glade-sides to lands of wheat

the hills to puddings

the stones to hen's eggs;

he would sing, practise his craft:

he would recite and call forth

he'd sing for this house

byrefuls of heifers

lanefuls of hook-heads

glades of milk-givers

a hundred bearers of horns

a thousand udder-bringers;

he would sing and work wisdom:

he would recite and call forth

coats of lynx fur for masters

broadcloth cloaks for mistresses

and fancy shoes for daughters

and red shirts for sons.

'Grant always, O God

and again, true Creator

that this may be thus lived up

may be done again -

this, a Northland feast

and Sariola revels:

beer running as a river

honey flowing as a stream

in these cabins of Northland

in Sariola's buildings

that by day there may be song

at evening merrymaking

all the days of this master

the lifetime of this mistress!

God give a reward

21:430-22:32

and the Creator their due

to the master at table

to the mistress in her shed

to the sons at their fishing

at their looms to the daughters

that they may never regret

nor another year bewail

this long-lasting feast

the great crowd's revels!'

22. Laments

When the wedding was well drunk

and feasted that feast

the wedding in the cabins

of Northland, the Darkland feast

the mistress of Northland said

to Ilmarinen the son-in-law:

'What do you sit, well-born one

land's choice, gaping at?

Is it at father's goodness

or mother's sweetness

or else at the room's whiteness

the wedding party's beauty?

No, not at father's goodness

nor mother's sweetness

nor yet at the room's cleanness

the wedding party's beauty:

at your lass's goodness you

gape, at the young maid's sweetness

at your love's whiteness

your braid-head's beauty.

'Bridegroom, my splendid brother

you have waited long, wait still

for your love is not ready

your lifelong spouse not prepared:

half of her head is in plaits

half is unplaited.

Bridegroom, my splendid brother

you have waited long, wait still

for your love is not ready

your lifelong spouse not prepared:

one sleeve has been sleeved

the other has yet to be.

22:33-105

Bridegroom, my splendid brother

long you have waited, wait still

for your love is not ready

your lifelong spouse not prepared:

only one foot has been shod

the other has yet to be.

Bridegroom, my splendid brother

long you have waited, wait still

for your love is not ready

your lifelong spouse not prepared:

one hand has been gloved

the other has yet to be.

Bridegroom, my splendid brother

long you've waited unweary:

now your love is ready, your

duckling has prepared herself.

'Go along, sold maid

with him now, bought hen!

Now your hour is close

right at hand your time to leave

for your leader is by you

your dear taker at the doors

and the stallion champs the bit

and the sledge awaits a maid.

Since you were keen on money

quick to give your hand

eager to become betrothed

to try on the ring

keenly now get in the sledge

eagerly in the bright sleigh

quickly get away

and like a good girl be off!

Young maid, you scarcely

glanced to either side

or puzzled your head if you'd

done a deal you regretted

to weep over for ever

to whimper over for years

when you left your father's home

shifted from your birthplaces

from your kindly mother, from

the farmyards of your parent.

'What a life was yours

on these farms of your father's!

You grew in the lanes a flower

a strawberry in the glades;

you rose from bed to butter

and from lying down to milk

to buns from being outstretched

from the straw to churn-scrapings;

when you could not eat butter

you sliced off some pork.

You had no care whatever

and never a thought:

you left worry to fir trees

thinking to fence poles

sorrowing to a swamp-pine

to a birch upon the heath

while you fluttered as a leaf

as a butterfly you twirled

as a berry on your mother's lands

as a raspberry on the acre.

'Now you are leaving this house

going to a different house

to a different mother's rule

to a strange household.

One way here, another there

different in a different house:

differently the trumps* sound there

and differently the doors creak

and differently the gates squeak

and the iron hinges speak.

You'll not be able to go

22:106-180

through the doors, stroll through the gates

like a daughter of the house;

you will not know how to blow

the fire, to heat the fireplace

as the man of the house likes.

Did you really, young maid

did you really know or think

you'd be going for a night

coming back the next day? Look -

you'll not be gone for a night

not for one night nor for two:

you'll have slipped off for longer

for always you'll have vanished

for ever from father's rooms

and for life from your mother's.

By a pace the yard will be

longer, the threshold higher

by a timber, when you come

again, the time you return.'

The hapless maid sighed

she sighed and she gasped;

grief weighed on her heart

tears loaded her eyes

but she got this into words:

'This I knew and this I thought

this I thought throughout my days

said through all my growing-time:

You, maid, will not be a maid

within your own parent's care

upon your own father's grounds

within your old mother's rooms.

You would only be a maid

going to a husband's house

with one foot on the threshold

and one in a suitor's sleigh:

you'd be taller by a head

higher by an ear.

This I hoped for all my days

looked for all my growing-time

waited as for a good year

looked as for summer's coming

and now my wish has come true

my going has come closer:

one foot is on the threshold

and one in a suitor's sleigh.

But I cannot tell at all

what has changed my mind:

I am not going gladly

nor with joy am I parting

from this precious home

where all my young days I sat

from these farmyards where I grew

these dwellings my father made;

I go, thin and full of cares

full of longings I depart

as into an autumn night's embrace

on a sheet of ice in spring

leaving no track on the ice

no footprint on the surface.

How might others feel

and how other brides?

Surely others do not feel

sorrow, bear a yearning heart

as I, mean one, bear -

bearing black sorrow

a heart that looks like coal, care

the hue of charcoal.

This is how the lucky feel

how the blessed think -

like daybreak in spring

the sun on a spring morning.

But how do I feel

in my gloomy depths? -

like the flat brink of a pool

like the dark bank of a cloud

22:181-252

like a dark night in autumn

a black winter day;

no, blacker than that

gloomier than an autumn night.'

There was an old charwoman

who always lived in the house

and she put this into words:

'So there, so there, young maiden!

Don't you recall what I said

and said hundreds of times too?

Don't be charmed by a bridegroom

by a bridegroom's mouth

don't trust the look in his eyes

or gaze upon his fine feet!

Sweetly he'll hold forth

turn his eyes gently, although

in his jawbones the Devil

in his mouth Doom were to dwell.

I've always advised a maid

instructed my charge like this:

When great bridegrooms come

great bridegrooms, the land's suitors

you tell 'em straight back

speak up for yourself

and say with this word

and speak with this speech:

"There's nothing in me

not a thing worth leading off

to be a daughter-in-law

taking off to be a serf:

no maiden who looks like me

knows how to live as a serf

will think of going along

keeping under someone's thumb.

Should the other say a word

I'd answer with two;

and should he come at my hair

trespass among my tresses

from my hair I would twist him

from my tresses I'd yank him!"

'But no, you took no notice

you didn't hear what I said:

you've walked aware into fire

knowing into boiling tar

dashed into the fox's sledge

gone off on the bear's runners

for the fox to drag off in its sledge

for the bear to carry far away

to be a master's serf for ever

and a mother-in-law's serf for life.

You have gone from home to school

from father's yards to torment;

hard the school you will attend

long the torment you will bear:

there the reins have been bought, there

the irons have been laid in -

not for anyone

except hapless you.

Soon you'll come to suffer, wretch

to suffer, ill-fated one

father-in-law's bony jaw

mother-in-law's stony tongue

a brother-in-law's cold words

sister-in-law's tossing head.

'Listen, maid, while I'm talking

while I'm talking and speaking!

At home you have been a flower

in your father's yards a joy:

your father called you moonlight

your mother sunshine

your brother water-sparkle

and your sister blue broadcloth.

22:253-324

You go to a different house

a strange mother's rule:

no stranger is worth mother

no other woman worth a parent!

A stranger seldom scolded

fairly, seldom taught rightly:

father-in-law will dub you doormat

and mother-in-law slowcoach

brother-in-law rock bottom

and sister-in-law trollop.

The only time you would be

good, would measure up would be

when as mist you went outside

when as smoke you reached the yard

when as a leaf you fluttered

when as sparks you sped;

but you are no bird to fly

and no leaf to flit

not a spark to speed

smoke to reach the yard.

'Oh, maid, my little sister

you've exchanged, and what exchanged!

You've exchanged your dear father

for a bad father-in-law

exchanged your kindly mother

for a stern mother-in-law

exchanged your splendid brother

for a brutish-necked brother-in-law

exchanged your decent sister

for a mocking-eyed sister-in-law;

you've exchanged your hempen beds

for sooty log fires

you've exchanged your white waters

for mucky oozes

you've exchanged your sandy shores

for black muddy holes

you've exchanged your darling glades

for heathery heaths

and your hills full of berries

for rough burnt treestumps!

'Did you really think, young maid

did you really, growing hen

that cares were done, work was less

by spending this evening, that

you'd be led there to lie down

you'd be taken there to sleep?

You'll not be led to lie down

not taken to sleep at all:

henceforth you must stay awake

henceforth you'll be full of care

you'll be made to think

you'll be put in bad spirits.

While you fluttered kerchiefless

you fluttered carefree;

while you moved without a veil

you moved without too much grief.

Only now will a kerchief

bring care, linen bad spirits

hemp too many griefs

flax no end of them.

'At home a maid has it made!

In her father's house she is

like a king in his castle

with only a sword missing.

But a poor daughter-in-law!

In her husband's house she is

like a Russian prisoner

with only a guard missing:

she has worked at work-time, put

her back into it

her skin bathed in sweat

her brow white with froth;

22:325-396

come another time

to fire she is doomed

driven to the forge

given into that one's hand

and she is supposed to have

(luckless wench) to have

a salmon's mind, a ruff's tongue

a pond-perch's thought

a roach's mouth and a bleak's belly

and to be wise as a goldeneye.

Not one knows, even

nine don't understand

of the girls a mother has

their parent cares for

where the eater will be born

the gnawer grow up

the flesh-eater, bone-biter

who'll strew their hair on the wind

scatter their tresses

give them to the gale.

'Weep, weep, young maiden;

when you weep, have a good cry!

Weep your tears in fistfuls, your

grief-waters in cupped palmfuls

drops on father's yards

pools on papa's floors

weep the cabin into floods

and into waves the floorboards!

If you don't when you're made to

you will weep when you visit

when you come to father's home

and you find your old father

dead from smoke in the sauna

a dry whisk under his arm.

Weep, weep, young maiden;

when you weep, have a good cry!

If you don't when you're made to

you will weep when you visit

when you come to mother's home

and you find your old mother

suffocated in the byre

dead with an armful of straw.

Weep, weep, young maiden;

when you weep, have a good cry!

If you don't when you're made to

you will weep when you visit

when you come into this home

find your full-blooded brother

laid low in the lane

felled in the farmyard.

Weep, weep, young maiden;

when you weep, have a good cry!

If you don't when you're made to

you will weep when you visit

when you come into this house

and find your decent sister

dropped down on the wash-place path

an old club under her arm.'

The hapless maid sighed -

she sighed and she gasped

she fell to weeping

turned to shedding tears:

she wept tears in fistfuls, wept

grief-waters in cupped palmfuls

on her father's well-washed yards

pools on papa's floor.

Then she put this into words

she declared, chattered:

'O sisters, buntings of mine

former comrades of my age

all my growing-companions:

listen while I am talking!

22:397-470

I cannot now tell at all

what could have struck me

with this great longing

and loaded me with this care

brought me this yearning

burdened me with this sorrow.

Differently I knew, I thought

differently hoped through my time -

meant to go as a cuckoo

to call on hilltops

when I'd reached these days

and come to these thoughts; but now

I'll not go as a cuckoo

not call on hilltops: I am

like a calloo on billows

or a teal in a broad bay

swimming in chilly water

disturbing icy water.

'Woe my father, my mother

woe, woe my honoured parents!

Why did you make me

and what bear this mean one for -

to weep these laments

to bear these yearnings

to care with these cares

and grieve with these griefs?

You might sooner, poor mamma

you might, fair one who bore me

dear one who gave milk to me

lovely one who suckled me

have swaddled treestumps

have washed little stones

than wash this daughter

swaddle your fair one

just for these great griefs

for these low spirits!

Many elsewhere say

and several think:

The fool has no care

no worry ever.

Do not, good people

oh do not say it!

For I have more care

than rapids have rocks

bad land has willows

the heath has heather.

A horse could not draw

an iron-neck jerk

without the shaft-bow shifting

the collar-bow shaking off

these cares of this skinny one

and these black sorrows of mine.'

A child sang from the floor, one

growing from the inglenook:

'What lamenting by a maid

and what great grieving!

Let a horse do the caring

and a black gelding sorrow

and an iron-mouth pity

and a big-head wail!

A horse has a better head -

a better head, firmer bone;

the arch of its neck bears more

its whole body is larger.

There is nothing to weep for

greatly grieve about.

You'll not be led to a swamp

taken to a ditch: they will

lead you from a corn-hummock

lead you to one fatter yet

and take you from beer-cabins

take you to some flusher still.

When you look to your

flank, to your right side

22:471-522

there's a bridegroom to keep you

a full-blooded man by you -

a good husband, a good horse

everything to set up house;

grouse-bells parading

on the collar-bow chirping

thrush-bells rejoicing

upon the traces singing

six gold cuckoo-bells

on the hames bobbing

seven bluebird-bells

on the sledge-prow cuckooing.

Don't worry at all

mother's offspring, about that!

You're not set for worsening

no, you're set for bettering

beside a ploughman husband

beneath a furrower's cloak

beneath a breadwinner's chin

under a fisherman's arm

amid an elk-chaser's sweat

in a bear-hunter's sauna.

You've a man of the finest

of fellows the most handsome:

his crossbows won't be idle

quivers won't hang on their pegs;

his dogs will not lie at home

nor his pups rest on the straw.

Full three times this spring

quite betimes on the morrow

he's risen from a camp fire

woken on a bed of sprigs

and three times this spring

dew has dripped upon his eyes

sprigs have brushed his head

twigs combed his body.

The man is a flock-rearer

the fellow a herd-raiser:

this bridegroom of ours

has wilds full of foot-walkers

sandbanks full of leg-runners

scourers of a marsh's depth

a hundred bearers of horns

a thousand udder-bringers;

he has ricks in every glade

he has bins at every brook

alder groves are his bread-lands

ditch sides are his barley-lands

sides of rock are his oat-lands

riversides are his wheat-lands

all cairns* are his coins

little stones his pence.'

23. Instructions and a Warning

Now is the maid's advising

the bride's instructing: well, who

shall be the maid's adviser

and the lassie's instructor?

Osmo-daughter, plump woman

Kaleva-daughter, fair lass -

she'll advise the maid

instruct the orphan

how to be prudent

and remain blameless

prudent in a husband's house

blameless in a mother-in-law's house.

She said with these words

spoke with these phrases:

'Bride, little sister of mine

heartsease, my darling:

listen while 'tis me talking

my tongue telling differently!

Now, flower, you're going away

strawberry, creeping away

plush one, you're bowling away

velvet one, wandering off

out of this famous

home, from this fair farm;

you'll come to a different house

to a strange household.

Different in a different house

otherwise in strange others -

thoughtfully stepping

cautiously working;

not as on your father's ground

on your own mother's mainland

in valleys singing

in lanes cuckooing.

When you leave this house

remember to take all your

other things, but leave at home

three - your daytime naps

your mother's dear words

your scrapings from every churn!

Remember all your chattels

but leave out your weariness

for the daughters still at home

still at the home-stove corner!

Leave the songs upon the bench

the joy-tales at the windows

girlhood on the whisk handle

your wildness on burlap hems

on the stove seat your bad ways

your laziness on the floor;

or else offer them to your bridesmaid

tuck them underneath her arm

for her to bear to the brush

to carry to the heather!

'There's a new way to take on

and the old one to forget -

father-love to leave

father-in-law-love to take

and lower to bow

and good words to give.

There's a new way to take on

and the old one to forget -

mother-love to leave

mother-in-law-love to take

and lower to bow

and good words to give.

There's a new way to take on

and the old one to forget -

brother-love to leave

23:70-143

brother-in-law-love to take

and lower to bow

and good words to give.

There's a new way to take on

and the old one to forget -

sister-love to leave

sister-in-law-love to take

and lower to bow

and good words to give.

'Never in this world

not in a month of Sundays

wed if you have no manners

marry if you have no skills!

A house expects good manners

even a good house

and a husband tries you out

even the best husband does;

you need only be careful

if a house is ill-mannered

and you have to be steadfast

if a husband is worthless.

Though master's a wolf in the corner

mistress a bear in the inglenook

brother-in-law as threshold vipers

sister-in-law as nails in the yard

there's the same respect to give

and lower to bow

than once beside your mother

in your own father's cabins

there was father to bow to

and your mamma to respect.

'And you are to keep

a careful head, common sense

your judgement always strict, your

understanding sound

your eyes watchful at evening

to see to the fire

your ears sharp in the morning

to listen for the cockcrow:

the first time the cock has sung

and has not yet uttered twice

that's the young folk's rising-time

and the old folk's resting-time.

If the cock does not sing, if

the master's bird does not crow

treat the moon as your cockerel

the Great Bear as your model:

go outside often

and look at the moon

observe the Great Bear

and study the stars!

When the Great Bear is set right

its horns pointing straight southward

and its tail pointing due north

then 'tis time for you to rise

from beside the young bridegroom

from the full-blooded one's side

to get fire from the cinders

flame out of the little box

to blow the fire at a stick

taking care not to spread it.

If no fire's in the cinders

no flame in the little box

tickle your darling for some

tackle your fair one:

"Give me fire, my dear

some flame, my berry!"

You will get a tiny flint

quite a small piece of tinder:

strike fire, make a spark

kindle the splint at the door

and go and muck out the byre

fodder the cattle;

mother-in-law's cow

23:144-215

lows, father-in-law's horse neighs

brother-in-law's cow

stirs, sister-in-law's calf mews

for someone to toss fine grass

to hold out clover.

Tread the lanes crouching

and the byres stooping

feed the cows meekly

and the sheep mildly;

hold out the straw to the cows

the drink to the poor things' calves

to the foals the chosen stalks

to the lambs the fine grasses;

do not scold the pigs

don't kick the piglets:

take a troughful to the pigs

the piglets their mangerful!

'Don't rest in the byre

and don't laze in the sheep-fold:

when you have mucked out the byre

seen to all the herd

hurry back from there

whirl indoors as snow!

A child's crying there

a small one inside the quilts

and the poor child cannot speak

neither can the infant say

whether 'tis cold or hungry

or what else is the matter

before the one it knows comes

and it hears its mother's voice.

But when you come in

come in as four - with

a water-pail in your hand

a bath-whisk under your arm

a fire-stick between your teeth

and yourself making the fourth.

Start wiping the boards

sweeping the plank floors:

toss water upon the floor -

don't chuck it over a child!

Should you see a child upon the floor

even if 'tis sister-in-law's child

lift the child on to a bench

wash its eyes and smooth its hair

put some bread into its hand

spread some butter on the bread;

if there's no bread in the house

put a wood-chip in its hand.

'When 'tis table-washing time

after a week at the most

wash the tables, remember

the sides, don't forget the legs;

sluice the benches with water

wipe the walls with a duster

the benches and all their sides

along the walls and their chinks;

what dust is on the table

and what dirt on the windows -

well, flick them with a duster*

run a wet rag over them

so the dirt won't fly about

nor the dust swirl to the roof;

shake the muck down from the roof

and sweep the soot off the hearth

and keep the doorpost in mind

and do not forget the beams

that it may seem a cabin

may be reckoned a dwelling!

'Listen, maid, while I'm talking

while I'm talking and speaking!

Do not rush about vestless

23:216-288

and don't loaf about shirtless

don't move about kerchiefless

and don't pad about barefoot:

your bridegroom would be angry

your young husband would grumble.

Be very wary of those

rowans in the yard: holy

are the rowans in the yard

holy are the rowans' boughs

holy the boughs' foliage

the berries still holier

with which a maid is advised

an orphan is taught

what pleases a young husband

what touches a bridegroom's heart.

Keep the sharp ears of a mouse

and the neat feet of a hare:

lean down your young nape

bend down your fair neck

like a sprouting juniper

or a green bird cherry top;

you must stay awake -

always awake, wary that

you don't end up on your bum

or full length on the stove seat

or sink on the sheets

drag yourself to bed.

'Brother-in-law comes in from sowing

father-in-law from building fences

your fellow from outdoor work

your fair one from slash-and-burn:

there is a bowl of water

to take, a hand towel to bring

and low down to bow

and kind words to say.

Mother-in-law comes in from the shed

the grain-box under her arm:

run to meet her in the yard

bow down low, ask for

the box from under her arm

that you may take it indoors.

If you cannot guess

nor puzzle out for yourself

which task to take on

which job to start on

find out from the mistress thus:

"O my dear mother-in-law

how are tasks done here

how are chores assigned?"

The mistress will answer, yes

mother-in-law say the word:

"This is how tasks are done here

how chores are assigned:

there is pounding and grinding

swaying at the quern handle

then there's water to carry

there is dough to mix

there are faggots to bring in

for heating the stove;

and then there are loaves to bake

and thick rolls to make

and there are dishes to soak

wooden plates to rinse."

'When you've heard your tasks from the mistress

your chores from mother-in-law

take the grains from the hearthstone

hurry to the grinding-hut;

then, when you've got there

and come to the grinding-hut

do not cuckoo with your throat

nor shriek with your neck:

cuckoo with the quern's rumble

with the bridge's song

23:289-359

and don't groan loudly

or puff at the quern

lest father-in-law should think

mother-in-law consider

you are groaning in anger

shoving in a bad temper!

Sift the flour lightly

bring it indoors on the lid;

take the loaves gently

knead them with great care

that here no flour may remain

nor there the leaven be loose.

'You'll see a tub on its side:

take the tub on your shoulder

the bucket under your arm

start stepping to the water;

bear the tub beautifully

carry it on a cowlstaff.

Come back as the wind

step along as the gale does

not lingering long at the water

not getting lost at the well

lest father-in-law should think

mother-in-law consider

that you stare at your likeness

and admire yourself

your full-bloodedness in the water

and your beauty in the well!

'You'll go out to the long stack

to haul in faggots:

don't look down on a faggot -

take one even of aspen;

drop a faggot quietly

without making a racket

or father-in-law would think

mother-in-law consider

that you toss it in your hate

make a racket out of spite!

'When you step into the shed

and go off to fetch the flour

don't hang about in the shed

linger long on the shed path

or father-in-law will think

mother-in-law consider

that you're sharing out the flour

giving to the village hags!

'You'll go off to wash a dish

to rinse wooden plates:

wash the jugs with their handles

and the flagons with their grooves;

rinse the bowls - think of the sides;

the spoons - think of the handles!

Keep count of the spoons

and check your dishes

lest the dogs sneak off with them

or the cats carry them off

or the birds too shift them, or

the children spread them around:

there are plenty of children

in the village, lots of little heads

who would carry off the jugs

spread the spoons around.

'When evening sauna-time comes

draw the water, bring the whisks

soften the bath-whisks ready

in the sauna rid of smoke

not lingering long and not

vanishing in the sauna

or father-in-law would think

mother-in-law consider

you were lazing on the planks

23:360-431

and romping at the bench end!

When you come indoors from there

tell father-in-law to bathe:

"O my dear father-in-law

now the sauna is prepared

the water drawn, the whisks got

and all the boards have been swept;

go and bathe your fill

douse yourself all that you want!

I shall raise the steam myself

under the planks I shall stay."

'When spinning-time comes

and cloth-weaving time, don't go

to the village for wrinkles

beyond the ditch for guidance

to the next house for warp-thread

to a stranger for reed-teeth:

spin the yarn yourself, and with

your own fingertips the weft

make the yarn lightweight

the thread always tightly spun;

wind it into a firm ball

on the reel toss it

on to the warp beam fit it

then set it out on the loom.

Strike the reed smartly

and raise the heddles nimbly

weave homespun caftans

and make woollen skirts

from one strip of wool

the fleece of a winter sheep

from the coat of a spring lamb

the down of a summer ewe.

'So listen while I'm talking

telling something more:

brew the barley beer

the tasty malt drink

from one barley grain

half a tree's charred wood.

When you steam barley

when you sweeten malt

do not stir it with a hook

do not turn it with a branch:

always stir it with your fist

turn it with your palm;

visit the sauna often

don't let a shoot spoil

nor a cat sit on the shoots

nor a puss lie on the malt;

and don't grieve for wolves

nor fear forest beasts

as you make for the sauna

as you walk there at midnight!

'Whenever a stranger comes

don't hate the stranger:

a good house always

keeps supplies for a stranger

lots of bits of meat

beautiful biscuits.

Tell the stranger to sit down

and chat politely:

feed the stranger with words till

the soup is ready.

Again, when he leaves the house

and makes his farewells

do not lead your guest

out through the door, for

the bridegroom would be angry

your fair one would grow ugly.

'Whenever the urge takes you

to go visiting yourself

ask if you may go

23:432-503

and say you want to go out;

then while you are out

tell skilful stories:

don't you find fault with home, don't

run down your mother-in-law!

Daughters-in-law where you go -

that is, other wives will ask:

"Did mother-in-law give you butter

as mother used to at home?"

Never say: "Mother-in-law

gives me no butter"

but always say it is given

brought in a dipper, though you

get it but once in summer

and that from two winters back!

'Listen still while I'm talking

telling one thing more:

when you go out from this house

and come to the other house

don't forget mother

or dishearten your mamma

for 'twas mother who kept you

her lovely breasts suckled you

from her lovely self

from her white body;

many sleepless nights she spent

many meals she missed

lulling you, caring

for her little one.

Whoever forgets mother

and disheartens her mamma

may she not go towards Death

cheerfully to Tuonela:

the Dead Land gives bad payment

Tuonela a rough reward

to one who forgets mother

who disheartens her mamma.

Tuoni's daughters scold

and Death's maids quarrel:

"How could you forget mother

dishearten your own mamma?

Mother has taken great pains

your parent has known hardship

lying on the sauna earth

staying on the straw

giving birth to you

bearing the mean one." '

There was a hag on the floor

an old hag with a cloak on

one who trod village thresholds

one who knew the parish* roads

and she put this into words

she declared, held forth:

'The cock has sung to his love

the hen's child to his fair one

and the crow has sung in March

in the spring month it has swung.

It ought to be me singing

and them not singing:

they have their loved one at home

always with them their darling;

I am loveless and homeless

all the time with no darling.

Listen, sister, while I talk:

when you too go to a husband's house

do not mark your husband's will

as I, luckless, marked

a husband's will, a lark's tongue

my great bridegroom's heart!

'I was a flower in my day

in my growing was heather

a young shoot in my rising

23:504-577

a bud in my coming up

a honey-berry* talked of

a darling whispered about

a teal in my father's yards

a bean goose on mother's floors

a water-bird beside my brother

a finch beside my sister

and I walked the lanes a flower

the field as a raspberry

skipped upon the sandy shores

tripped upon the flowery knolls;

I sang in every valley

on every mound I cuckooed

and the groves were my playground

and the glades my constant joy.

'Mouth drew fox into the trap

tongue drew stoat into the snare

will a maid into marriage

wish into another house:

so a maid even at birth

a daughter is lulled to be

daughter-in-law in a husband's house

a serf in a mother-in-law's house.

I, a berry, fell on other lands

a bird cherry, on different waters

a cowberry to be bit

a strawberry to be cursed:

every tree bit me

every alder cut

every birch hurt me

every aspen snapped.

I was wed, led to a husband's house

taken to a mother-in-law's house:

I was told that there

once the maid was wed

would be six cabins of spruce

and twice as many chambers

the glade sides would be shed-lands

and the lane sides blossom-lands

and the ditch sides barley-lands

the heath sides oat-lands

binfuls of threshed grain

other binfuls to be threshed

a hundred coins got

a hundred more to be got;

but when I, fool, got married

and, madcap, struck the bargain

the cabin was on six poles

upon seven stakes

the glades full of unkindness

the groves full of lovelessness

lanefuls, poor me, of my cares

forestfuls of low spirits

binfuls of threshed hate

other binfuls of unthreshed

a hundred words got

a hundred more to be got.

'I took no notice

but tried to live blamelessly:

I hoped for respect

I strove to win love

by bringing the fire indoors

by picking up splint-ends; I'd

poke my brow in at the door

my head in at the doorpost:

in the doorway were strange eyes

narrowed in the inglenook

looking askance in mid-floor

at the far end full of hate

and fire would flash from a mouth

firebrands from beneath a tongue

from the wicked master's mouth

from beneath his unkind tongue.

I took no notice

23:578-651

but still tried to carry on

to keep in with them

meekly obedient:

I hopped upon a hare's feet

went about on a stoat's paws

went to bed dreadfully late

got up woefully early;

but I, wretch, got no respect

luckless, won no love

though I were to roll mountains

and break rocks in two.

'In vain I pounded the groats

uselessly sifted the meal

for my stern mother-in-law to eat

for the fire-throat to nibble

at the long deal table's head

from a gold-rimmed dish, while I -

I ate, poor daughter-in-law

I gobbled flour off the quern

the fireplace seat my table

a wooden dipper my spoon.

Often in my gloom as a

daughter-in-law in a husband's house

I brought mosses from the swamp

baked them for my bread, water

from the well in a bucket

tippled that for my tipple.

Cheerless, I only ate fish

hapless, only ate smelt when

I stooped at the seine-poles, rocked

in the middle of the boat;

I got not one fish from what

my mother-in-law gave me

that would serve for a day, be

good for its one meal.

'Summers I gathered fodder

winters wielded a pitchfork

just like a gipsy of old

or else a serf, a hireling

for in mother-in-law's house

I was always given

the thickest flail in the kiln

the sauna's heaviest brake

the hardest club on the shore

the barnyard's biggest pitchfork.

No one believed me worn out

nor worried when I sank down

though the fellows got worn out

and the horse's foals sank down.

So I, luckless wench

worked at working-time

and put my back into it;

come another time

to fire I was doomed

delivered into its hand.

'Groundless gossip was started

and idle tongues wagged

against my good ways

against my famous honour:

the words rained upon my head

the stories pattered

like harsh sparks of fire

or iron hailstones.

But that did not put me off:

I would have gone on living

as a help to the stern hag

as the fire-throat's companion;

but what got me down

what made things worse, was

that my bridegroom turned wolfish

my fair one became a bear -

faced me to eat, turned his back

to sleep and to do his work.

For that I wept by myself

23:652-728

I considered in my shed;

I recalled my other days

my earlier way of life

in father's long yards

fair mother's farmyard

and then I started saying

I uttered, chattered:

"She knew, my mother

knew how to get an apple

she could raise a shoot, but she

did not know how to plant it:

she planted the lovely shoot

in wicked places

set it in bad spots -

upon hard birch roots

to weep all its days

to moan for ever.

I would have been fit

for better places

and for longer yards

and for wider floors

right for a better body

worth a more full-blooded man;

but I was stuck with this lout

landed with this layabout

who had got a crow's body

and had grabbed a raven's nose

his mouth from a ravening wolf

and all his looks from a bear.

I would have got such a one

if I'd just gone up a hill

got from there a tarry stump

an alder log from a grove

made a muzzle out of sward

a beard from bad beard-mosses

a mouth from rock, head from clay

eyes out of hot coals

birch gnarls for his ears

a goat willow fork for legs."

'That's what I sang in my woes

and sighed in my cares;

but my fair one chanced to hear

to be standing by the wall!

When he came from there

walked up the shed steps

I knew it was him coming

recognized his step: his hair

whirled although there was no wind

his locks tossed although there was

no draught; his gums were agape

his eyes were out of kilter

a warped rowan in his grip

a bent rod under his arm

which he keeps beating me with

clobbering me on the head.

Then come the evening

when he went to bed

he took a lash at his side

a leather whip off its peg

not for anyone

except hapless me.

Well, I also went

to bed at evening

lay down beside my bridegroom:

he let me snuggle up, then

he gave me enough elbow

and plenty of hateful hand

a lot of thick willow sticks

some walrus-bone whip handle.

I got up from his cold side

from the chilly bed:

my bridegroom chased after me

threw me out with threats!

A hand moves among my hair

fumbles my tresses

shared my hair out to the wind

gives it to the gale ...

23:729-802

'What was my best plan?

What plan to follow?

I had shoes made out of steel

shoelaces shaped of copper

in which I stood beside walls

and listened at lane-ends for

the wrathful one to calm down

the stern one to settle down;

but he calms down not at all

he settles down at no time!

At last I got cold

wandering hated

standing beside walls

stuck behind a door.

I thought, considered:

there's no point in my

bearing a long grudge

a lasting contempt

in this devil's crew

this nest of demons.

I left the charming cabins

my darling abodes

and, though not strong, went roaming.

I roamed swamps, roamed lands

I roamed fleet waters

roamed to my brother's field-end:

there the dry spruces cuckooed

and the shock-headed pines sang

all the crows cawed, all

the magpies cackled:

"This is not your home

nor is your birthplace!"

'I took no notice

but roamed to my brother's yard.

Now the gates uttered to me

and all the acres complained:

"What are you coming home for

and what, wretch, to hear about?

Your father's long dead, long gone

is the fair one who bore you;

brother's a stranger to you

his wife is like a Russian."

I took no notice

but went straight indoors.

I put my hand on the latch:

the latch was cold to my hand.

When I got indoors

in the doorway I stood still:

the haughty housewife

doesn't embrace me

nor does she offer her hand;

I'm haughty as well

and don't embrace her

nor do I offer my hand.

I stick my hand on the hearth:

the stones are cold on the hearth;

I turn my hand to the fire:

embers are cold in the fire.

'Brother's lazing on the bench

gaping upon the stove seat

a fathom of coal on his shoulders

a span on the rest of him

an ell of dust on his head

half a foot of solid soot.

Brother asked of the stranger

inquired of the newcomer:

"Where is the foreigner from?"

I merely answered:

"Do you not know your sister

who was once your mother's child?

We are one mother's children

rocked by the same bird

hatched by the same goose

from one grouse's nest!"

23:803-850

At that, brother made to weep

and his eyes to run with tears ...

Brother uttered to his wife

he whispered to his darling:

"Fetch some food for my sister!"

Brother's wife with mocking eyes

brought from the cook-house some cabbage soup

whose fat the cur had eaten

whose salt the dog had licked, which

Blackie had breakfasted on.

Brother uttered to his wife

he whispered to his darling:

"Bring beer for the guest!"

Brother's wife with mocking eyes

brought some water for the guest

but it was no clean water:

it was the sisters' eye-wash

the sisters-in-law's hand-rinse.

'I roamed on from my brother

I shifted from my birthplace:

I fell, a wretch, to walking

I took, a wretch, to rambling

poor one, to skirting the shores

woebegone, to wandering

always to strange doors

and to foreign gates

the poor one's children abroad

woebegone to village care ...

Many now I have

and a lot there are

who talk with angry voices

who with harsh voices attack;

I do not have many who

offer a kind word

chat with a sweet mouth

bid me to a hearth

when I've come out of the rain

and made it out of the cold

with frosty skirt hems

with coat hems weather-beaten.

When I was younger

I would not have believed them

though a hundred had said it

and a thousand tongues had told

that I would sink to these ways

that I would fall on these days -

the days I have fallen on

the ways I have sunk into.'

24. Departure

Now the maid has been advised

the bride instructed.

Next I'll address my brother

to my bridegroom speak by mouth:

'Bridegroom, my splendid brother

better still than a brother

dearer than my mother's child

milder than my father's child:

listen while 'tis me talking

'tis me talking and speaking

about this hemp-bird of yours

this hen you have got!

Bridegroom, thank your luck

for the good catch you have made;

when you thank, thank well!

Good you got and good you found

good your Creator promised

good the merciful one gave:

tell out thanks to the father

to the mother even more

who lulled such a girl

such a bride as this!

Pure the maid you have

bright the maid you wed

white the one you hold

fair the one you keep

strong the daughter at your side

and full-blooded beside you

strong the daughter, a thresher

charming winnower of hay

a superb washerwoman

a lively bleacher of clothes

an able spinner of thread

a nimble weaver of cloth.

Her reed slammed out loud

like a cuckoo on a hill

and her shuttle whizzed

like a stoat in a wood-stack

and her spool whirred like

a cone in a squirrel's mouth:

the village could not sleep tight

nor could the townsfolk slumber

for the tap of the maid's reed

for the buzz of her shuttle.

'Bridegroom, dear youngster

fair husband-to-be:

forge a scythe that's sharp, fit it

into a handle that's good -

carve in the gateway

hammer on a stump;

and when daylight comes

lead the maid on to the turf:

you will see how the hay snaps

the tough hay crackles

the sedge swishes down

the sorrel tumbles

a hummock goes too

and a sapling breaks.

When the next day comes

fetch a fit shuttle

a decent batten

a proper breast beam

cut handsome treadles

fetch all weaving-tools

put the maiden to the loom

the batten into her grasp:

only then will the reed slam

the loom thud, the clanking be

heard in the village

the reed's rattle further off.

24:71-142

The hags will think about that

the village women will ask:

"Who is weaving cloth?"

It will suit you to answer:

"My own darling is weaving

my sweetheart is clattering.

Has the cloth rucked up

the reed missed a thread?"

"No, the cloth has not rucked up

nor has the reed missed a thread:

'tis as though woven by Moon-daughter

spun by Sun-daughter

wrought by the Great Bear's daughter

finished off by Star-daughter."

'Bridegroom, dear youngster

fair husband-to-be:

now that you're leaving

and driving from here

with your young maiden

beside your fair hen

don't drag your sparrow

this hemp-bird of yours

into the bank, or

drive her into fence corners

or spill her upon a stump

or tip her over on rocks!

Never in her father's home

in her fair mother's farmyards

was the maid dragged into banks

driven into fence corners

spilt upon a stump

tipped over on rocks.

Bridegroom, dear youngster

fair husband-to-be:

don't lead your maiden

convey your darling

to grumble in nooks

to grouse in crannies!

Never at her father's home

in her mother's cabins did

she grumble in nooks

or grouse in crannies:

she always sat at windows

tripped in the middle of floors

at evenings her father's joy

at mornings mother's darling.

Just don't, poor bridegroom

don't you lead this hen

to the hunger-bread mortar

don't set her pounding bark-bread

or baking straw-bread

or beating pine-bread!

Never at her father's home

in her fair mother's farmyard

was she led to that mortar

set pounding bark-bread

or baking straw-bread

or beating pine-bread.

No, you lead this hen

lead her to a corn-hummock

to unload a bin of rye

to take a bin of barley

to make a thick loaf

skilfully brew beer

to bake a wheat loaf

and to knead the dough!

'Bridegroom, my splendid brother

don't you make this hen

don't make our little

goose weep with longings!

If a heavy hour should come

the maid feel longing

24:143-214

stick the bay between the shafts

or the white into harness

bring her to her father's home

to her dear mother's cabins!

Don't you use this little hen

don't use our little

hemp-bird as your serf

don't treat her as a hired wench

don't bar her from the cellar

and from the shed don't ban her!

Never at her father's home

in her fair mother's farmyard

was the maid used like a serf

or treated as a hired wench

never barred from the cellar

and from the shed never banned:

she was always slicing buns

looking for hen's eggs

around the milk vat

beside the beer keg

mornings opening the sheds

evenings locking up the loft.

Bridegroom, dear youngster

fair husband-to-be:

if you treat the maiden well

you'll be well thought of:

when you come to father-in-law's

to matchless mother-in-law's

you will be well fed -

fed, given to drink

your horse will be unharnessed

led to the stable

fed, given to drink

a box of oats will be brought.

Don't say of our little maid

this little hemp-bird of ours

that she has no kin

don't declare she has no kind

for this maid of ours

has great kin, has mighty kind:

were a gallon of peas sown

each would get a grain

were a gallon of flax set

each would get a stalk.

'Just don't, poor bridegroom

ill-treat the maiden

guide her with serf-whips

with leather whips make her mew

with five lashes make her squeal

at the hut-end make her yell!

Never was the maid before

never at her father's home

guided with serf-whips

with leather whips made to mew

with five lashes made to squeal

at the hut-end made to yell.

Stand as a wall before her

stay as a doorpost:

don't let mother-in-law smite

nor father-in-law scold her

don't let a stranger hate her

another house slander her!

The household has told you to

beat, other folk to punch her;

but surely you wouldn't harm

your poor one, hurt your sweetheart

you heard about for three years

and were always begging for!

'Bridegroom, advise your maiden

and teach your apple

advise the maiden in bed

and teach her behind the door

24:215-289

for a whole year in each place -

one by word of mouth

two by a tipped wink

three by putting your foot down!

If she doesn't care

then, takes no notice

take a reed from the reed-bed

or a horsetail from the heath:

with it advise your maiden

advise her for a fourth year

dress her down with the horsetail

with the sedge's edge goad her;

don't yet whack her with a thong

nor thrash the maid with a switch!

But if then she doesn't care

still takes no notice

fetch a lash from the thicket

a birch out of a wild dell -

bring it under your coat hem

without the next house knowing:

show it to your maid

wave it but don't whack!

And if she still doesn't care

chooses to take no notice

advise the maid with the lash

instruct her with the birch bough;

advise her between four walls

speak in a room caulked with moss

do not bash her on the turf

nor beat her at the field edge:

the noise would reach the village

and the uproar the next house

the wife's weeping the neighbours

and the great row the forest.

Always warm up her shoulders

soften her buttocks -

don't chastise her eyes

and don't box her ears: a lump

would come up on the eyebrow

a blueberry on the eye.

Brother-in-law would ask about it

father-in-law would wonder

the village ploughmen would see

the village women would laugh:

"Has she been to war

mixed up in a fight

or was she torn by a wolf

or mauled by a forest bear -

or is the wolf her bridegroom

the bear her partner?" '

There was an old man on the stove top

a tramp at the hearth

and the old man spoke from the stove top

the tramp from the hearth:

'Just don't, poor bridegroom

mark a woman's will

a woman's will, a lark's tongue

as I did, a luckless boy!

I bought meat, bought bread

bought butter, bought beer

bought fish of all kinds

relishes of many sorts

beer from my own lands

wheat from foreign lands

but I got no good with it

found no benefit:

when the woman came indoors

she came like a hair-tearer

with her face bulging

and her eyes rolling;

she raved on in her fury

in her hatred talked away

called me a fat-arse

and blamed me for a blockhead.

Now I thought up a new dodge

24:290-364

yes, hit on a different road:

when I stripped a birch bough clean

she hugged me, called me her bird;

when I lopped a juniper

she yielded, called me her dear;

and then, when I laid on with willows

she flung herself on my neck.'

The hapless maid sighs -

she sighs and she gasps

she burst into tears;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Others' leaving-time is near

and others' hour has come close:

my leaving-time is nearer

my hour is closer

though it is hard too to leave

difficult the hour

of parting from this famous

village, this fair farm

where I grew beautifully

rose up gracefully

all my growing-time

my years of childhood.

I had neither thought

nor ever believed -

thought I would give up

believed I would part

from the border of this hill

from the shoulder of this ridge.

Now I both think and give up

I both believe and depart:

the parting-flagons are drained

the parting-beer has been drunk

soon the sleighs will have been turned

to face outward, backs to the cabin

sides to father's barn

flanks to the cowshed.

'With what now as I depart

as I, mean one, leave

shall I pay for mother's milk

and for my father's goodness

with what my brother's kindness

and my sister's tenderness?

I thank you, father

for the meals I've had

for breakfasts of old

for the best morsels;

I thank you, mother

for lulling me as a babe

for holding me when little

for feeding me with your breasts;

next I thank my dear brother

my dear brother, dear sister

I repay the whole household

all those I grew up

with and lived among

grew with in my growing-time.

Do not now, my good father

do not, my kindly mother

or others of my great kin

of my illustrious people

don't give way to care

or yield to great grief

even though I go

to other lands, move somewhere:

the Creator's sun will shine

the Creator's moon will gleam

the stars of heaven will glitter

and the Great Bear will stretch out

further off too in the world

elsewhere too in the wide world -

not only in father's yards

in these farmyards where I grew.

'Now I'm really leaving here

leaving this dear home

24:365-439

the hall father made

mother's full cellar:

I leave my swamps, leave my lands

leave my grassy yards

leave my white waters

leave my sandy shores

to the village hags to bathe

and to the herdsmen to splash;

I leave the swamps to squelchers

the lands I leave to laggards

and the alders to idlers

and the heather to strollers

the fence sides to those who step

lane-edges to those who walk

yards to those who run along

the wall sides to those who stand

the board-planks to those who wipe

and the floors to those who sweep;

fields I leave for the reindeer to run

backwoods for the lynx to roam

the glades for the geese to dwell

the groves for the birds to rest.

I am really leaving here

with another who's leaving

for an autumn night's embrace

for a sheet of ice in spring

so there's no track on the ice

no footprint on the surface

on the crust no skirt's pattern

no hem's brush-mark on the snow.

'Then, when I've come back

visiting my home

mother will not hear a voice

nor father notice weeping

though I moan on their eyebrows

and sing on their scalps: young turf

will already have risen

a juniper bush have grown

on her skin who suckled me

on her face who carried me.

And when I come back

into these long yards

the others will not know me

but these two things will -

the lowest fence-lash

the furthest field-stake:

those I stuck in when little

and lashed as a maid.

And my mother's barren cow

I watered when young

cared for as a calf

will keep on lowing

within the long yards

on the wintry grounds:

that one will know me

for the daughter of the house.

My father's aged stallion

which I fed when small

foddered as a maid

will keep on neighing

within the long yards

on the wintry grounds:

that one will know me

for the daughter of the house.

And my brother's ageless dog

I fed as a child

taught as a maiden

will keep on barking

within the long yards

on the wintry grounds:

that one will know me

for the daughter of the house.

Those others will not know me

when I have come home

though they are my old moorings

24:440-513

places where I used to live -

in their places whitefish-straits

in their stead fish-holes ...

'Fare you well now, room -

room with your plank roof

good for me to come back to

fair for me to frolic to!

Fare you well now, porch -

porch with your plank floor

good for me to come back to

fair for me to frolic to!

So fare you well, yard -

yard with your rowans

good for me to come back to

fair for me to frolic to!

I bid all farewell -

lands, forests with their berries

lane sides with their flowers

heaths with their heather

lakes with their hundreds of isles

the deep straits with their whitefish

the good mounds with their spruces

the wild dells with their birches.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

grabbed the maid into his sleigh

struck the courser with the lash

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Fare you well, lakeshores -

lakeshores and field banks

all you firs upon the hill

you tall trees in the pinewood

bird cherries behind the house

junipers on the well-path

all berry stalks on the ground -

berry stalks, grass stems

willow shrubs, spruce roots

alder foliage, birchbark!'

There the smith Ilmarinen

went from the yards of Northland

but the children kept singing

the children sang and declared:

'This way a black bird has flown

through the wilds it has glided

has enticed the duck from us

has lured the berry from us

taken that apple from us

led the fish astray

cheated her with little coins

with silver coins tempted her.

Who'll now lead us to water

go with us to the river?

The pails will have to stand still

and the cowlstaves to clatter

the boards stay unwiped

and the floors unswept

the tankard rims clogged

the flagon handles tarnished.'

He, the smith Ilmarinen

with his young maiden

hurtles on his way

along those shores of the North

by the mead-sweet straits

across the ridge of fine sand:

the gravel rang, the sand clinked

the sledge rolled, the road flashed past

the iron traces rattled

the runner of birch clattered

the curly-birch strut thudded

the bird cherry collar-bow

quivered, the shaft-lashes squealed

the copper rings shook

as the good horse ran

as the good blaze-brow galloped.

He drove one day and then two

24:514-25:32

soon he drove a third as well

one hand on the stallion's rein

one hand under the maid's arm

one foot over the sledge side

the other beneath the rug.

Courser ran and journey sped

the day rolled, the road shortened

till on the third day

as the sun is going down

the smith's home appears

the cabins of Ilma loom:

soot was rising as a thread

smoke was thickly escaping

it billowed from the cabin

up into the clouds it rose.

25. Homecoming

Now, long they waited -

they waited, looked out

for the maid's escort to come

to the smith Ilmari's home:

the eyes of the old ones stream

sitting at windows

the knees of the young ones sag

waiting at the gates

children's feet were cold

standing beside walls

the shoes of the middle-aged

wore out roving on the shores.

One morrow among others

and one day among many

comes a noise from the backwoods

a sledge-rattle from the heath.

Lokka the gentle mistress

Kaleva-daughter, fair wife

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'That is my son's sledge!

He is coming from Northland

with his young maiden!

Head now for these lands

and for these farmyards

the cabins your father made

your parent laid out!'

Smith Ilmarinen

soon he arives home

in the yards his father made

his parent laid out:

grouse-bells are cooing

on the sapling collar-bows

25:33-107

cuckoo-bells are cuckooing

on the prow of the bright sleigh

and squirrels are scurrying

upon the shaft of maple.

Lokka the gentle mistress

Kaleva-daughter, fair wife

at that put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'The village waited for the new moon

the young ones for the sunrise

children for a land of strawberries

water for a tarry boat;

I not even a half-moon

no sun whatever:

I waited for my brother -

my brother, daughter-in-law.

I looked morning, looked evening

did not know where he'd vanished

if he was raising a little one

or fattening a lean one

since he did not come at all

though he certainly promised

to come while his tracks were there

to arrive before they cooled.

I kept looking out mornings

for days he was on my mind

since brother's sled does not roll

nor does brother's sleigh clatter

to these little yards

these narrow farmyards.

Had I a stallion of straw

a sledge with two struts

even that I'd call a sled

promote to a sleigh

if it drew my brother here

brought my fair one home.

So I spent my time hoping

I looked out all day -

looked till my head was askew

till my topknot was awry

and my straight eyes were oval

hoping my brother would come

to these little yards

these narrow farmyards.

Now at last he comes

for once he makes it -

with him a full-blooded face

one with red cheeks at his side!

'Bridegroom, my splendid brother

let the blaze-brow go

and let the good horse be led

to the hay it had before

to the oats it used to have

and give us greeting -

give us, give others

give all the village!

When you have done the greetings

tell us your stories:

did you travel untalked of

did you go your way healthy

bound for your mother-in-law

matchless father-in-law's home?

Did you get the maid, defeat

the might, crush the gate of war

flatten the maiden's stronghold

demolish the upright wall

step on mother-in-law's boards

sit upon the master's bench?

Now I see without asking

and guess without questioning:

yes, he fared well on his way

sweetly upon his journey;

he brought the goose, defeated

the might, crushed the gate of war

laid low the stronghold of planks

25:108-181

flattened the wall of limewood

while he was with mother-in-law, in

matchless father-in-law's home

and the scaup is his to keep

the hen is under his arm

the pure maid is his to have

the white one is his to hold.

'But who brought this lie, who bore

the wrong news that the bridegroom

was coming empty-handed

the stallion was running light?

He's not come empty-handed

the stallion has not run light:

there's something for it to draw

the hemp-mane to move

for the good horse is sweating

and the choice foal is frothing

from bringing the chicken here

drawing the full-blooded one.

'Rise now from the sleigh, fine one

good gift, out of the bobsleigh!

Rise, do not be raised

get up, do not be helped up

though one to raise you is young

one to help you up is proud!

When you are up from the sleigh

and let out of the sledge-back

step along the well-swept road

the liver-hued earth

trodden smooth by pigs

trampled by piglets

stamped on by a sheep

rubbed down by a horse's mane!

Step with the steps of a goose

pad with the feet of a teal

upon these washed yards

on these level grounds

the yards father-in-law made

and mother-in-law set out

the banks where the brother carves,

sister's meadows of blue dye;

set foot on the steps

and shift on to the porch boards

and step through the mead-sweet porch;

from there shift inside

under the famous roof beam

under the fair roof!

'Here through this very winter

through the summer past

the boards of duck bones have rung

for someone to stand on them

the ceiling of gold has boomed

for someone to step beneath

and the windows have rejoiced

for someone to sit at them;

here through this very winter

through the summer past

the latches have been creaking

for a ringed hand to shut them

the thresholds have been writhing

for a charmer with fine hems

the doors have kept opening

for someone to open them;

here through this very winter

through the summer past

the room has been in a whirl

for someone to sweep the room

the porch has been making space

for someone to wipe the porch

and the huts have been moaning

for a hand to brush the huts;

here through this very winter

through the summer past

the yard has secretly turned

25:182-253

for someone to pick up chips

the sheds have lowered themselves

for someone to step inside

the beams have sagged, the joists bowed

for the clothes of a young wife;

here through this very winter

through the summer past

the lanes have been cooing forth

for someone to walk in them

the byres have been drawing near

for someone to muck them out

and the barnyards have drawn back

for a teal to toil in them;

here throughout this very day

throughout yesterday

the big cow has kept lowing

for its morning feed-giver

the foal has been whinnying

for someone to pitch its hay

and the spring lamb has whimpered

for someone to feed it more;

here throughout this very day

throughout yesterday

the old have sat at windows

the children have roved on shores

the women have stood by walls

and the boys in the doorways

attending a young woman

waiting for a bride.

'Hail now, yard with all you hold

you out there with your fellows

hail, you hut with all you hold

hut with your strangers

hail, you porch with all you hold

birchbark roof with your people

hail, you room with all you hold

hundred-planked with your children

hail, moon and hail, king

and hail, young escort!

Here there has not been before

not before nor yesterday

a crowd as well-turned as this

nor people as fair as these.

'Bridegroom, my splendid brother

strip away the red kerchiefs

snatch off the silk hoods:

show that dear marten of yours

the one you sought five years long

eight years long looked for!

Have you brought her you tried for?

You tried to bring a cuckoo

choose a white one from the earth

get one full-blooded from the waters.

Now I see without asking

and guess without questioning:

you've brought the cuckoo with you

the mallard in your keeping

the greenest shoot-top

of many green shoots

the freshest bird cherry sprig

of many fresh bird cherries.'

There was a child on the floor

and the child spoke from the floor:

'Brother, what are you dragging? -

one fair as a tarry stump

one tall as a tar-barrel

lofty as a winding-frame!

So there, so there, poor bridegroom!

This you hoped for all your days

said you'd get one worth hundreds

you'd bring a maid worth thousands:

now you've got a right one worth

25:254-325

hundreds, that lump worth thousands -

one like a crow from a swamp

a scare-magpie from a fence

a bird-scarer from a field

like a black bird from fallow!

What has she done all her days

and what through the summer past?

No mitten she's woven, no

stocking even started on!

Empty-handed she's come in

without gifts to father-in-law's house:

in her basket mice have been

rustling, big-ears in her box!'

Lokka the gentle mistress

Kaleva-daughter, fair wife

heard the weird story

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'What did you say, wretched child

and what prattle, ne'er-do-well?

About others let wonders

be heard, and let insults waft -

not about this maid

not about those in this house!

Now you have said a bad word

an evil word spoken from

the mouth of a night-old calf

the head of a day-old pup!

A good maid the bridegroom's got

brought from the land the land's best -

like a half-ripe cowberry

a strawberry on a hill

or a cuckoo in a tree

a small bird in a rowan

in a birch one fine-feathered

bright-breasted in a maple.

Not even from Germany would he

have got, from beyond Estonia

have found this maid's handsomeness

this calloo's sweetness

this beauty of face

glory such as this

nor this arm's whiteness

this slender neck's curviness.

She's not come empty-handed

either: she had furs to bring

cloaks to bargain with

broadcloth to carry.

This maid has plenty

of work from her own distaff

spun on her own spinning-wheel

goods from her own fingertips -

garments all of white

laundered in winter

bleached in the spring sun

dried in summer moons:

good bedsheets are fluttering

pillows are plumping

silk scarves are flapping

and woollen cloaks are flashing.

'O good woman, fair woman -

woman in full bloom

you were well renowned at home

as a girl in father's home:

be well renowned all your days as a

daughter-in-law in your husband's house!

Don't start worrying

don't be full of cares!

You've not been led to a swamp

taken to a ditch: you've been

led from off a corn-hummock

led towards one fatter yet

and taken from beer-cabins

25:326-398

taken to some flusher still.

Good maid, fair woman

I will ask you this:

as you came here did you see

some stacks coiled at the bottom

some plump-topped corn ricks?

All are of this house

this bridegroom's ploughing -

ploughing and sowing.

Little maid, little young one

now I'll tell you this:

as you knew how to come here

so know how to behave here!

A woman's life here is good

fair a daughter-in-law's growth -

a bowl of curds in your grip

a dish of butter all yours.

A maiden's life here is good

and fair a little hen's growth:

here the sauna planks are broad

and wide the cabin floorboards

the masters are good as your father

the mistresses good as your mother

the sons good as your brother

daughters good as your sister.

When the lust takes you

and you have a mind for those

fish your father caught

those grouse your brother hunted

don't ask your brother-in-law

nor beg your father-in-law:

ask your bridegroom straight

bother the one who brought you!

There's nothing in the forest

running on four legs

nor are there birds of the air

flapping on two wings

nor even in the water

the best shoal of fish

that your catcher will not catch -

catcher catch nor bringer bring.

A maiden's life here is good

and fair a little hen's growth:

there is no fret for the quern

nor worry for the mortar -

water here has ground the wheat

a rapid has stirred the rye

the billow washes the bowls

and the sea froth bleaches them.

'O darling village

mine the best place in the land!

Meadows below, fields above

and the village in between;

below it the sweet lakeshore

at the shore the dear water

just right for the duck to swim

the water-bird to wallow.'

The crowd was given to drink

was fed, was given to drink -

lots of bits of meat

beautiful biscuits

beer made from barley

wort made out of wheat.

Yes, there was enough ready

enough to eat and to drink

in vessels of red

in handsome dishes -

pies to put about

butter-bits to bite

whitefish to dish out

salmon to share out

with a silver knife

a golden dagger.

25:399-470

Beer flowed that had not been bought

honey no marks had paid for

booze from the top of the beam

and mead from within the bungs

beer to steep the lips

honey to turn wits.

Now, who here was to be the

cuckoo, the proper singer?

Steady old Väinämöinen

the everlasting singer -

he started the song

set about the job of tales;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Dear brothers, my kid brothers

my fellow-mouthers

my tongue-companions:

listen now while I'm talking!

Seldom are geese face to face

little sisters eye to eye

seldom brothers side by side

mother's children cheek by jowl

on these poor borders

the luckless lands of the North;

so shall we launch into song

set about the job of tales?

Singing is a job for bards

calling for the spring cuckoo

pressing is for dye-daughters

weaving is for loom-daughters.

'Even Lapland's children sing

the hay-shod pitch notes

after scraps of elk

flanks of small reindeer;

so why don't I sing too, why

don't our children sing

from a meal of rye

from a well-stuffed mouth?

Even Lapland's children sing

the hay-shod strike up

when they've drunk a bowl

of water, bitten bark bread;

so why don't I sing too, why

don't our children sing

from drinks made of grain

beer made of barley?

Even Lapland's children sing

the hay-shod strike up

from sooty camp fires

from beds full of grime;

so why don't I sing too, why

don't our children sing

under a famous roof beam

under a fair roof?

'For the men's life here is good

sweet the women's dwelling too

beside a beer keg

round a honey vat

at our side straits of whitefish

by us seine-shores of salmon

where the food does not run out

and the drink does not run short.

For the men's life here is good

sweet the women's sojourn too:

here is no eating with grief

no sojourning among care;

here is eating without grief

sojourning carefree

in the days of this master

the lifetime of this mistress.

'Which one here shall I praise first -

the master or the mistress?

25:471-542

Fellows before have always

praised the master first

who got shelter from the swamp

gathered a home from the wilds -

brought tough firs base first

pines lopped at the top

put them down on a good spot

set them somewhere firm

for big family-size cabins

and for fair farmyards;

bolted walls from the backwoods

timbers from the frightful hill

rafters from the rocky ground

battens from the berry-heath

bark off the bird cherry slope

mosses from unfrozen swamps.

The cabin was built aright

the shelter put in its place:

a hundred men joined the walls

a thousand worked on the roof

building this cabin

laying down the floor.

But still, while this master was

making this cabin

many winds his locks have seen

his hair terrible weather:

many times the good master's

mitten was left on a rock

his hat was snagged on a twig

his stocking sunk in a swamp;

many times the good master

quite betimes on the morrow

before others had got up

and the village folk could hear

has got up from the log fire

woken in his huts of sprigs

and a sprig has brushed his hair

and dew has washed his quick eyes.

Then the good master

brings indoors people he knows -

a whole benchful of singers

windows of merrymakers

floorboards full of soothsayers

inglenooks full of crooners

wall sides full of folk standing

fence sides full of folk stepping

yards of folk walking along

lands of travellers across.

'I have praised the master first;

and now the kindly mistress

for making the food ready

for filling the long table.

'Tis she has baked the thick loaves

has patted the great dumplings

with her nimble palms

with ten bent fingers;

she has raised the loaves gently

she has fed the guests promptly

with plenty of pork

with crusty fish pies:

the blades of our knives have slipped

the tips of our dirks have dulled

chopping salmon heads

cutting off pike heads.

Many times the good mistress

this careful housewife

learned to rise without the cock

leap up without the hen's child

while this wedding was prepared

pies were being made

and the yeast was got ready

and the beer was brewed;

25:543-616

full well has the good mistress

this careful housewife

known how to brew beer

got the tasty drink flowing

from fomented shoots

and out of sweet malt

which she worked on with no wood

scooped with no cowlstaff

but stirred with her fists

and turned with her arms

in the sauna rid of smoke

on the well-swept planks.

Neither does this good mistress

this careful housewife

beat the shoots to pulp

spill the malt upon the earth;

she's often in the sauna

at dead of night on her own -

she does not care about wolves

fear the beasts of the forest.

'Now the mistress I have praised;

wait while I praise my best man!

Who has been made the best man

who taken to run the show?

The village best is best man

the lucky one runs the show.

See, our best man is

decked out in cogware

well-fitting under the arm

comely in the gut region;

see, our best man wears

a narrow caftan -

the hems sweep the sand

the back parts the ground;

a little of his shirt shows

a tiny bit peeps out - 'tis

as though Moon-daughter wove it

the tin-breast made it jingling;

see, our best man has

at his waist a fine-wove belt

woven by the sun's daughter

brightened by the bright-nailed one

at a time when no fire was

when fire was unknown;

see, our best man has

stockings of silk on his feet

stocking bands of silk

and garters of lawn -

they're woven with gold

and worked with silver;

see, our best man has

real German shoes

like swans upon a river

wigeon on the banks

or geese on a bough

birds of passage on felled trees;

see, our best man has

curls of gold ringlets

a beard of gold plaits -

on his head a tall helmet

that pokes through the clouds

that glitters through the forest

and can't be got for hundreds

nor bought for thousands of marks.

'Now I have praised my best man;

wait while I praise the matron!

Where was the matron got from

and the lucky one taken?

There the matron was got from

and the lucky one taken -

the back of Tallinn

the far side of Novgorod.

But no, not even from there -

not a bit of it!

25:617-689

There the matron was got from

and the lucky one taken -

the White Sea of Archangel

from the open* expanses.

But no, not even from there -

not a bit of it!

On the earth there grew a strawberry

a cowberry on the heath

in a field bright grass

a golden flower in a glade:

there the matron was got from

and the lucky one taken.

The matron's mouth is comely

as a Finnish shuttle is;

the matron's quick eyes

are like the stars in the sky;

the matron's famous eyebrows

like the moon above the sea.

See, our matron has

a neck full of golden locks

a head full of golden coils

hands with gold bracelets

fingers with gold rings

ears with golden beads

brows with golden knots

eyelashes with pearls.

I thought the moon was gleaming

when her golden buckle gleamed;

I thought the sun was shining

when her shirt collar shone out;

I thought a ship was flashing

when the cap flashed on her head.

'Now, I have praised the matron;

let me look at everyone

to see whether they are fair -

the old folk hearty

the youngsters comely

the whole crowd well-turned!

I have looked at everyone -

perhaps I knew already:

here there has not been before

nor indeed will be again

a crowd as well-turned as this

nor people as fair as these

old folk as hearty

youngsters as comely:

everyone is in cloth coats

like a forest in hoarfrost

from below like the dawn glow

from above like the daybreak.

Cheap the silver coins

free the gold coins at the feast

the money-bags in the yards

and the purses in the lanes

were for these invited guests

to honour the feast!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

age-old wielder of a tale

then shifted into his sledge

and sets off homeward;

and he sings, rapt in his tales

he sings, practises his craft.

He sang one tale, he sang two

till at the third tale

a runner clonked on a rock

a strut caught on a stump top:

the bard's sledge smashed, the

singer's runner broke

the strut came off with a crack

the planks crunched apart.

The old Väinämöinen said

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Is there among these youngsters

25:690-738

among the people growing

or else among these old ones

among the folk shrinking, one

who would go to Tuonela

would set out for Death's abodes

would bring a spike from Tuoni

a drill from Death's folk

for me to make a new sledge

for me to build a sleigh with?'

Both the younger say

and the old answer:

'There's not among these youngsters

nor indeed among the old

in all the great kin

a fellow so brave

as would go off to Tuoni

would set out for Death's abodes

would bring a spike from Tuoni

and a drill from Death's abodes

for you to make a new sledge

for you to build a sleigh with.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

the everlasting singer

went again to Tuonela

and travelled to Death's abodes;

brought a spike from Tuonela

and a drill from Death's abodes.

At that old Väinämöinen

sings the blue backwoods

into them a shapely oak

and a fit rowan;

he built them into his sleigh

pressed them into his runners

from them looked out struts

turned out collar-bows:

he finished building the sleigh

making the new sledge.

He stuck the foal in harness

the bay in front of the sledge

and he sat down in the sledge

settled down in the bobsleigh.

Though unlashed the courser ran

unsmitten by beads the horse

to the mash it had before

the fodder it used to have;

it brought old Väinämöinen

the everlasting singer

to his own door's openings

in front of his own threshold.

26. A Perilous Journey

Ahti dwelt on the island

underneath Far Headland's arm;

was ploughing a field

tilling an acre.

His ear was most keen

very alert of hearing:

he hears noise from the village

a din from beyond the lakes

the stamp of feet on the ice

a sledge-rattle on the heath.

It occurred to him

the thought came to him:

Northland's holding a wedding

the sly crowd revels!

He twisted his mouth, he turned his head

he twisted his black whiskers

the blood drained away

from his luckless cheeks;

at once he left his ploughing

the tilling in mid-acre

jumped straight on the horse's back

and sets off homeward

to his dear mother

towards his honoured parent

and he said when he got there

explained when he came:

'O my mother, old woman

put out food quickly

for a hungry man to eat

for one who wants it to bite;

heat the sauna this minute

burn the fire down in the room

where a man makes himself clean

the best fellow grooms himself!'

That Lemminkäinen's mother

put out food quickly

for the hungry man to eat

for him who wanted to bite

while the bath-hut got prepared

and the sauna made ready;

then wanton Lemminkäinen

took food quickly, went

to the sauna that minute

walked to the bath-hut

and there the chaffinch washes

the snow bunting cleans himself

his head into a handful

of flax, his neck white.

He came in from the sauna

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'O my mother, old woman

step to the shed on the hill

bring from there my comely gear

carry the hard-wearing clothes

for me to put on

to kit myself out!'

The mother hastened to ask

the old woman to inquire:

'Where are you bound, my offspring?

Are you off to hunt the lynx

or else to ski after elk

or to shoot squirrel?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'O my mother who bore me

I'm not off to hunt the lynx

26:67-136

neither to ski after elk

nor to shoot squirrel:

I am off to Northland's feast

the sly crowd's revels.

Bring my comely gear to me

my hard-wearing clothes

to show off at the wedding

to wear at the feast!'

The mother forbade her son

and the woman banned her man;

two maidens banned him

three nature-daughters forbade

Lemminkäinen to go off

to good Northland's feast.

The mother said to the son

the eldest spoke to her child:

'Don't go, my offspring -

my offspring, my dear Farmind

to that Northland feast

the great crowd's revels!

You were not invited there

simply not wanted at all.'

That wanton Lemminkäinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Wretches go when invited -

a good one leaps up when not!

Summoners old as the moon

and perpetual heralds stand

in a sword of fiery blade

in a sparkling brand.'

That Lemminkäinen's mother

still tried to forbid:

'Just don't, my offspring

go to Northland's feast!

Many the wonders on your journey

great on your road the marvels -

three of the worst dooms

three deaths for a man.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'Hags are always full of dooms

of deaths everywhere;

no fellow frets about them -

no, he'll not beware at all.

Be that as it may

say so that my ears may hear:

what is the first doom -

the first, and the last as well?'

Lemminkäinen's mother spoke

and the old woman answered:

I'll tell the dooms as they are

not as a man would have them.

I'll tell the first doom -

this doom is the foremost doom.

You will go a little way

you'll finish a day's journey:

you'll meet a fiery river

over against you;

in the river a fiery rapid

and in the rapid a fiery crag

on the crag a fiery peak

and on the peak a fiery eagle

by night sharpening a tooth

and by day whetting a claw

for the stranger who comes, for

one on his way there.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'That doom is a woman's doom -

'tis no death for a fellow.

26:137-208

Yes, I'll spot a way round that

think up something good:

I'll sing a horse of alder

sing a fellow of alder

to shift past my side

to walk before me

while I as a duck will dive

as a calloo I'll go down

beyond the eagle's clutches

past the wivern's toes.

O my mother who bore me

tell the midmost doom!'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'This doom is the second doom.

You will go a little way

just a second day's journey:

you'll meet a fiery ravine

that's across the road

stretching eastward for ever

north-west without end

full of red-hot rocks

of burning boulders;

in it hundreds have landed

thousands have piled up -

a hundred swordsmen

a thousand iron stallions.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'That is no man's doom

nor a death for a fellow.

I'll think of a dodge round that -

think of a dodge, spot a way:

I'll sing a man out of snow

from hard snow fudge a fellow

I'll thrust him amid the fire

press him hard into the flame

to bathe in the hot sauna

with a bath-whisk of copper

while I shift aside

and squeeze through the fire

so that my beard will not burn

and my curls will not be singed.

O my mother who bore me

tell the latest doom!'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'This doom is the third of dooms.

You will go a bit further

you'll finish a day from there

heading for Northland's gateway

through the narrowest region:

a wolf will pounce upon you

a bear will attack you next

at Northland's gateway

in the smallest lane;

they've eaten a hundred men

destroyed a thousand fellows

so why should they not eat you

destroy one with no defence?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'Let a ewe be eaten young

be torn apart fresh

but not even the worst man

the sleepiest of fellows!

I'm belted with a man's belt

fixed with a man's pin

tied with a fellow's buckles

so that I shall not fall yet

into the Dreamer's wolves' mouths

the jaws of the cursed maids.

I will think of a dodge for the wolf

spot a way round the bear too:

26:209-281

the wolves I'll bridle with song

sing the bears in iron chains

or I'll flatten them to chaff

I'll sift them piecemeal.

That's how I'll get free of that

reach my journey's end.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'You have not reached the end yet!

While you were on your way there

they were great marvels

three grievous wonders

three ways for a man to die;

when you arrive there

will be the worst wonders yet.

You'll travel a tiny way

and you'll come to Northland's yard:

an iron fence has been built

a steel pen has been fashioned

from the earth up to the sky

from the sky down to the earth;

with spears it has been staked out

with earthworms it has been fenced

with snakes it has been lashed up

and with lizards bound;

the tails have been left to wave

the blunt heads to sway

and the skulls to spit -

heads outside and tails inside.

On the ground are other worms

a line of vipers, of snakes

with their tongues seething above

with their tails waving below:

one more dreadful than others

lies across before the gate

longer than cabin timber

thicker than a lane doorpost

with its tongue seething above

with its mouth above hissing

not for anyone

except hapless you.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'That doom too is a child's doom -

'tis no death for a fellow.

I know how to bewitch fire

and how to tame flame

I know how to banish worms

and turn snakes away.

Only yesterday

I ploughed land full of vipers

I turned snaky land

quite with my bare hands;

held the vipers with my nails

in my hands the snakes;

I killed about ten vipers

a hundred black worms:

viper-blood is on my nails

still, and snake-fat on my hands.

So I don't think I'll become

oh no, not yet come to be

a great worm's mouthful

a snake's handiwork:

I'll seize the scoundrels

wring their wicked necks

sing the vipers further on

move the snakes along the road

and I'll step from Northland's yard

and slip inside the cabin.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Just don't, my offspring

go into Northland's cabin

to Sariola's buildings!

Men there have swords at their belts

26:282-352

fellows have weapons of war

men are mad from hops

bad from much drinking:

they will sing you, luckless, on

to a sword of fiery blade;

better have been sung

greater ones overcome too.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'I have been before, you know

in those cabins of Northland.

No Lapp sings at me, no man

of Turja shoves me around;

I'll sing at the Lapp myself

I'll shove the man of Turja -

sing through his shoulders

talk right through his chin

till his shirt collar's in two

till his breastbone breaks.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Ah, my luckless boy

still you think of how it was -

you boast of your last visit!

You have been before, I know

in those cabins of Northland -

swum all the still pools

sampled weed-choked ponds

shot rapids roaring

currents in a flash

come to know Tuoni's rapids

and sounded the Dead Land's streams

and you'd still be there today

but for your poor old mother.

Now, think of what I'm saying!

You'll come to Northland's cabins:

the hill is bristling with stakes

the yard is bristling with poles

and they bristle with men's heads:

one stake is a headless stake

and for the tip of that stake

it will be your head chopped off!'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'A fool may worry

about them, a knave foresee

five, six battle-years

seven war-summers! -

but no fellow will heed them

nor avoid them in the least.

Bring me my war-gear

my old battledress!

I will fetch my father's sword

my papa's blade I'll look out;

long it has been in the cold

for ages hidden away

weeping out its days

there, longing for a wearer.'

At that he got his war-gear

his old battledress

his father's long-lasting sword

that war-comrade of papa's

and he stuck it in the boards

thrust its blade into the floor

and the sword turned in his hand

like a fresh bird cherry top

or a growing juniper;

wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'Hardly in Northland's cabins

in Sariola's buildings

is there one to measure this

sword, one to defy this blade.'

26:353-422

The crossbow off the wall he

snatched, the strong bow off the peg;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Him I'd call a man

reckon a fellow

who'd draw my crossbow

fasten my curved one

in those cabins of Northland

in Sariola's buildings.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

fitted himself in war-gear

put on battledress

and he declared to his serf

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'O serf I have bought

my toiler got for money:

make ready my war stallion

harness up the battle foal

for me to go to the feast

to the Devil-crowd's revels!'

The serf, meekly obedient

slipped straight out into the yard

thrust the foal into harness

between shafts the fiery red

and he said when he came back:

'I have done my task -

prepared that stallion of yours

and harnessed the splendid foal.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen's

hour comes to be off:

one hand bade, one hand forbade

but sinewy fingers forced

and he went just as he meant -

off he went, did not beware.

The mother advised her son

and the eldest warned her child

at the door, beneath the beam

by the pan cupboards:

'My offspring, my matchless one

my child and my steadfastness!

If you get to the revels

wherever you happen on

drink half your flagon

half way down your bowl;

let another have the other half

and a worse one the worse half:

a worm lies in the bowl, a

maggot in the flagon's depths.'

And still she advised her son

certainly assured her child

at the furthest field's

end, at the last gate:

'If you get to the revels

wherever you happen on

sit on half a seat

and step half a step;

let another have the other half

and a worse one the worse half:

that way you'll become a man

you'll come out a bold fellow

for going through court

settling disputes openly

among the fellows

in a crowd of men.'

Then Lemminkäinen set off

sitting in the stallion's sledge -

struck the courser with the lash

hit it with the beaded whip

26:423-494

and off the courser careered

and the horse dashed off.

He drove for a little time

a good while he jogged along.

On the road he saw a flock

of black grouse: the black grouse whirled

into flight, the flock of birds

flapped before the running horse.

Just a few feathers remained

some black grouse plumes on the road.

Lemminkäinen gathered them

stuffed them into his pocket:

you never know what might come

might happen on a journey;

all is handy in a house

useful in emergency.

He drove forward a little

went a tiny bit of road;

now the horse pricks up its ears

the flop-ear fidgets.

That wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

leapt out of his sleigh

leant over to look:

it is as his mother said

as his own parent assured!

Yes, there's a fiery river

across in front of the horse;

in the river a fiery rapid

and in the rapid a fiery crag

on the crag a fiery peak

and on the peak a fiery eagle:

it had a throat spewing fire

a mouth pouring flame

feathers as a fire whirling

and as sparks sparkling.

It sees Farmind from afar

Lemminkäinen from further:

'Where is Farmind going, where

are you off to, Loverboy?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'I am off to Northland's feast

the sly crowd's revels.

Move aside a bit

give way, away from the road

let a travelling man pass -

Lemminkäinen most of all -

to shift past your side

to walk beyond you!'

The eagle managed to say

and the fire-throat to whisper:

'I'll let a traveller pass -

Lemminkäinen most of all -

to roam through my mouth

to make his way down my throat:

that's where the road goes for you -

to go from there for its sake

down to that long feast

those everlasting sessions.'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He did not then greatly fret

for he groped in his pocket

dipped into his purse

took some black grouse plumes;

he rubs them slowly

between his two palms

and betwixt his ten fingers:

out sprang a flock of black grouse

a whole bevy of capercaillies.

He flung them into the eagle's mouth

gave them to the gobbler's jaws

26:495-566

down the fiery eagle's throat

between the bird of prey's gums.

That's how he got free of that

finished the first day.

He lashed the courser

whacked it with the beaded lash:

the stallion set off headlong

the horse galloped off.

He drove a bit of a way

traced a tiny way;

now the stallion is

startled, the horse snorts.

He got up out of his sleigh

craned his neck to look:

it is as his mother said

as his own parent assured!

In front's a fiery ravine

that's across the road

stretching eastward for ever

north-west without end

full of red-hot rock

a burning boulder.

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He beseeches the Old Man:

'O Old Man, chief god-

that is, heavenly father:

raise a bank of cloud from the north-west

another send from the west

set a third out of the east

lift one out of the north-east

shove them edge-on together

knock them against each other;

rain a ski-stick's depth of snow

run up a stake's depth

on those red-hot rocks

those burning boulders!'

That Old Man, chief god

the old heavenly father

raised a bank of cloud from the north-west

another sent from the west

reared a cloud out of the east

lifted air from the north-east

and he joined them together

knocked them against each other;

rained a ski-stick's depth of snow

ran up a stake's depth

on those red-hot rocks

those burning boulders

and there came a pool of snow

and a lake of slush was formed.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

sang on it a bridge of ice

across the pool of

snow from bank to bank.

Thus he escaped that danger

and finished the second day.

He lashed the courser

whacked it with the beaded belt

and the courser flashed away

the horse trotted off.

The courser ran a mile, two

and the land's best fled a bit;

then it suddenly

stopped, will not flee from its place.

He, wanton Lemminkäinen

started, jumped to look:

there's a wolf in the gateway

a bear in the lane ahead

in the gateway of Northland

at the end of the long lanes.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

26:567-637

groped in his pocket

fumbled in his purse;

took scraps of ewe wool

and softly rubs them

in the midst of his two palms

and betwixt his ten fingers.

He blew once upon his palm:

the ewes fluffed into a run -

a whole flock of sheep

of lambs quite a herd.

The wolves rushed that way

and the bears attacked with them;

he, wanton Lemminkäinen

drove forward on his journey.

He went but a tiny way

till he came to Northland's yard:

an iron fence had been built

and a steel pen made

a hundred fathoms earthward

a thousand fathoms skyward;

with spears it had been staked out

with earthworms it had been fenced

with snakes it had been fastened

and with lizards bound;

the tails had been left to wave

the blunt heads to sway

the powerful heads to quiver -

heads outside and tails inside.

That wanton Lemminkäinen

thereupon now considers:

'It is as my mother said

as the one who bore me moaned:

that is quite a fence

set from the earth to the sky!

A viper crawls low

but the fence is set lower;

a bird has flown high

but the fence is set higher.'

Well, at that Lemminkäinen

did not care to fret greatly:

he drew the knife from its sheath

from its holder harsh iron;

with it he slashed at the fence

broke the poles in two;

the iron fence he opened

he unwound the pen of snakes

leaving a gap five withes high

and seven stakes wide

and forward he drives

before the gate of Northland.

A snake writhes upon the road

lies across before the gate

longer than cabin timber

and thicker than a gatepost:

a hundred eyes the worm has

a thousand tongues the snake has

its eyes the size of sieve holes

its tongue long as a spear shaft

its fangs the size of rake teeth

its back long as seven boats.

There wanton Lemminkäinen

dare not lay hands on

the hundred-eyed worm

the thousand-tongued snake;

wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'Black worm on the ground

Tuoni-hued maggot

mover in dry grass

in Devil-leaf roots

goer through hummocks

26:638-709

threader of tree roots!

Who raised you from grass

roused you from hay roots

to crawl on the ground

to thrash on the road?

Who raised your nose up

who told, compelled you

to hold your head stiff

your neck erect - did

your father or your mother

the eldest of your brothers

the youngest of your sisters

another of your great kin?

Sweeten now your mouth, cover

your head, hide your nimble tongue

coil up in a coil

curl up in a curl

give way, half the way, one side

for the traveller to go;

or shift off the road

move, wretch, into scrub

wade into heather

slink off into moss

slip off as a tuft of wool

as an aspen log roll off

thrust your head into the sward

stuff it inside a hummock

for in sward is your cabin

beneath a hummock your house:

if you bob up there

God will crack your head

with steel-tipped needles

with iron hailstones.'

That's what Lemminkäinen spoke

but the worm took no notice:

it keeps on spitting

rears with tongue seething

with mouth hissing rears

poised for Lemminkäinen's head.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

thought of some old words

the dame had advised

his mother had taught;

wanton Lemminkäinen said

fair Farmind uttered:

'If you'll heed not even that

nor yield with a little word

you'll grow bloated with your pains

swell with your days of suffering

you'll split, villain, into two

scoundrel, into three pieces

if I seek out your mother

and fetch your honoured parent.

I know, coiled one, of your birth

earth's grim one, of your growing:

the Ogress was your mother

an elf your parent.

'On the waters the Ogress

spat, dropped slobber on the waves

and the wind lulled it

and the water-breeze rocked it

lulled it for six years

seven summers too

on the clear high seas

on the rippling waves;

the water stretched it out long

and the sun roasted it soft

and the surf pushed it to land

the billow drove it ashore.

Three nature-daughters

walked on the plashy seashore

the coast of the roaring sea

26:710-776

and they saw it on the shore

and said with this word:

"Now, just what would come of that

if the Creator put breath

into it, blessed it with eyes?"

The Creator chanced to hear;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

"Evil would come of evil

scoundrel from scoundrel-vomit

should I put breath into it

bless its head with eyes."

But the Demon got to hear

the vicious man to take note:

he became a creator

the Demon gave breath to it -

the wicked scoundrel's slaver

the Ogress's spit

and it turned into a snake

it changed into a black worm.

'What was breath for it got from? -

breath from the Demon's embers.

What was a heart tossed in from? -

the Ogress's heart.

What the brute's brains from? -

the froth of a powerful stream.

What were the rascal's wits from? -

foam of a fiery rapid.

What was the bad one's head from? -

its head was from a bad pea.

What were eyes for it made from? -

the Devil's hemp seeds.

What were the scoundrel's ears from? -

the Devil's birch leaves.

What was a mouth made up from? -

from the Ogress's buckle.

What a tongue in the wretch's mouth from?

from a fairy's spear.

What the vicious one's teeth from? -

the husks of Tuoni's barley.

What the wicked one's gums from? -

from the gums of the grave's lass.

What was its back stuck up from? -

the Demon's charred stake.

What the tail set waving from? -

the evil one's plait.

What were its guts knotted from? -

its guts were from Doom's belt chain.

'So much for your kin

your famous honour!

Black worm on the ground

Tuoni-hued maggot

ground-hued, heather-hued

all-the-rainbow-hued:

now leave the traveller's road

before the fellow who moves;

let the traveller go, let

Lemminkäinen trip along

to that Northland feast

the blowout of the well-born!'

Now the worm pushed off

and the hundred-eye shifted

and the fat snake turned away

changed its place along the road

let the traveller go, let

Lemminkäinen trip along

to that Northland feast

the sly crowd's revels.

27. Magic and Mayhem

I have now led my Farmind

brought Ahti the Islander

past the mouth of many dooms

past the reach of the grave's tongue

to those Northland yards

the sly folk's farmyards:

now I have to say

and tell with my tongue

how wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

came to the Northland cabins

the Sariola buildings

uninvited to the feast

heraldless to the revels.

That wanton Lemminkäinen

that boy, that full-blooded rogue

the moment he came inside

stepped to the midst of the floor

the boards of limewood juddered

the spruce cabin boomed.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said

he uttered, spoke thus:

'Hail, I am welcome

hail to one who hails!

Listen, master of Northland:

would there be within this house

barley for a horse to bite

beer for a fellow to drink?'

He, the master of Northland

sat at the long table's head

and that one answered from there

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'There may be within this house

ground for a stallion to stay

and you are not forbidden

if you behave well inside

standing at the door -

at the door, beneath the beam

between the two pans

where the three hooks touch.'

There wanton Lemminkäinen

he twisted his black whiskers

that were the colour of pans

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'The Devil come here

to stand at the door

sweep away your soot

and shake off the muck!

My father did not

nor did my honoured parent

stand upon that spot

at the door, beneath the beam

for there was space then -

a barnyard for a stallion

a room washed for men's coming

nooks for throwing gloves

pegs for men's mittens

walls for stacking swords;

so why is it not for me

as was once for my father?'

Then he shifted further up

he swept to the table head

he sat down at the seat end

at the head of the pine bench

and the seat creaked back

and the pine bench sagged.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

27:68-139

'I can't be a welcome guest

if no beer is brought

for the coming guest.'

Ilpo-daugher, good mistress

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Ah, son of Lemminkäinen

what a guest you'd be!

You've come to trample my head

to bring down my brains!

Our beer is barley as yet

our tasty drinks malt

unbaked the wheat loaves

the meat stews unstewed.

You ought to have come the night

before, or the day after.'

There wanton Lemminkäinen

twisted his mouth, turned his head

and twisted his black whiskers

and he put this into words:

'So the food's been eaten here

the wedding drunk, the feast held

the beer's been shared out, each man

had his measure of honey

the jugs have been collected

and the flagons stowed!

O you mistress of Northland

snarler of Darkland, you held

the wedding with wickedness

the feast with a dog's honour:

you baked the great loaves

brewed the barley beer

sent invitations six ways

summoners nine ways;

called the wretched, called the poor

called the outcast, called the vile

all the thin cotters

the gipsies in tight caftans;

you invited all the rest

but left me uninvited!

Why do this to me

because of my own barley?

Others brought some in ladles

others dripped some in cupfuls

but I flung by the bushel

squandered by the sack

barley of my own

grains of my sowing.

I can't be Lemminkäinen

now, not a guest of good name

if no beer is brought

and no pot put on the fire

and no stew inside the pot

no quarter of pork

for my eating, my drinking

at my journey's end.'

Ilpo-daughter, good mistress

put this into words:

'Hey there, tiny wench

my perpetual serf:

put stew in a pot

bring beer for the guest!'

The small girl, child with nothing

the least dish-washer

least wiper of spoons

scraper of dippers

put stew in a pot -

meat bones and fish heads

old tops of turnip

and crusts from stale loaves;

brought then a flagon of beer

a jugful of the worst brew

for wanton Lemminkäinen to drink

27:140-210

for him who wanted it to gobble

and she put this into words:

'Are you really man enough

to drink up this beer

to tip up this jug?'

Lemminkäinen, wanton boy

looked then into his flagon:

a maggot is in the depths

and snakes half way down

on the rim worms crawled

and lizards slithered.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said

Farmind blurted out: 'To Hell

with the flagon-bringers, Death

to the jug-bearers

before the moonrise

the end of this day!'

Then he put this into words:

'Ah, you mean beer, now

you have come to be idle

come to follow idle ways!

Beer shall be drunk with the mouth

rubbish cast upon the ground

with the ring finger

and with the left thumb!'

And he groped in his pocket

fumbled in his purse;

took a hook from his pocket

an iron barb from his bag

and sank it in his flagon

began to angle the beer:

the worms got stuck on his hook

on his barb hateful vipers.

He fished up a hundred frogs

a thousand black worms

cast them down for the ground's sake

dropped them all upon the floor;

he drew his sharp knife

that harsh sheathed iron

with it beheaded the worms

and snapped the snakes' necks, then drank

the beer to his heart's content

the black honey as he liked.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'I can't be a welcome guest

if no beer is brought

any better drink

with a more plentiful hand

in a bigger bowl

neither is a ram struck down

a great bull slaughtered

an ox brought indoors

a hoof-shank into the room.'

He, the master of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'So why have you come here, who

invited you to the throng?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'An invited guest is fine;

uninvited is finer.

Listen, Northlander's son, you

master of Northland:

let me buy some beer

some drink for money!'

Well, that master of Northland

at that was angry and wroth

very angry and furious:

he sang a pool on the floor

in front of Lemminkäinen

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

27:211-280

'There's a stream for you to drink

a pool for you to lap up!'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'I am no wives' calf

no ox with a tail

to drink stream waters

to lap pool water.'

And he started singing charms

set about singing;

he sang a bull on the floor

a great gold-horned ox:

it slurped up the pool and drank

the stream to its heart's content.

The Northlander, a tall boy

brought forth a wolf from his mouth;

he sang it upon the floor

to slay the fat bull.

Lemminkäinen, wanton boy

he sang a white hare

to hop on the floor

before the wolf's mouth.

The Northlander, the tall boy

sang a dog with a hooked jaw

to slaughter the hare

to tear the squint-eye.

Lemminkäinen, wanton boy

sang a squirrel on a beam

to dart about on the beams

for the dog to bark at it.

The Northlander, the tall boy

sang a gold-breasted marten:

the marten grabbed the squirrel

sitting on the beam.

Lemminkäinen, wanton boy

sang a brown fox: it

ate the gold-breasted marten

lost the fine-haired one.

The Northlander, the tall boy

brought forth a hen from his mouth

to strut on the boards

in front of the fox's mouth.

Lemminkäinen, wanton boy

brought forth a hawk from his mouth

one with quick claws off his tongue

and it seized the hen.

The master of Northland said

he declared, spoke thus:

'Here the feast will not improve

if there are not fewer guests -

house to work, guest on the road

after even good revels:

go from here, Demon's outcast

from all company of men;

head off home, scoundrel

run off, bad man, to your land!'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'No man is got by cursing

no worse man either

to shift from his place

to run off from where he is.'

Then the master of Northland

seized a sword from off the wall

snatched his fiery blade

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'You Ahti the Islander -

that is, fair Farmind:

let's size up our swords

let's look to our brands and see

27:281-351

whether mine's the better sword

or Ahti the Islander's!'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'As for my sword, it

has split among bones

and smashed among skulls!

Be that as it may

since this feast will not improve

let us size up, look and see

whose sword is keener!

My father never

feared to size up swords:

has the stock changed with the son

the strain dwindled with the child?'

He took his sword, bared the iron

snatched the one of fiery blade

out of the holder of hide

out of the belt of leather.

They sized up, looked down

the length of those swords:

a tiny bit longer was

the sword of Northland's master

by one fingernail's black speck

by half a knuckle.

Ahti the Islander said

the fair Farmind spoke:

'See, yours is the longer sword

so you should strike first.'

Then the master of Northland

slashed away and lunged away;

he reached for but could not reach

Lemminkäinen's scalp.

Once he hit a beam

clouted a lintel:

the beam broke off with a crack

the lintel flew into two.

Ahti the Islander said

the fair Farmind spoke:

'What wrong have the beams done, what

foul deed the lintel

that you hit out at the beams

clout at the lintel?

Listen, Northlander's son, you

master of Northland!

'Tis hard to quarrel indoors

to argue among women:

we will spoil the new cabin

we will stain the floors with blood.

Let's go out into the yard

out to the field to quarrel

to the ground to fight:

in the yard blood is better

fairer out in the farmyard

more natural in the snow.'

They went out into the yard;

a cowhide was fetched

and was spread out in the yard

for them to stand on.

Ahti the Islander said:

'Listen here, son of the North!

Now, yours is the longer sword

your brand is the more dreadful -

perhaps you will need it too

before we part, or

your neck is broken:

you strike first, son of the North!'

The son of the North struck first:

he struck once, struck twice

and soon a third time he thrashed;

but he scores no hit

does not even graze the flesh

27:352-420

does not take off the top skin.

Ahti the Islander said

the fair Farmind spoke:

'Let me have a go;

now it is my turn!'

Well, that master of Northland

was not going to heed that:

still he struck, did not waver

aimed but could not reach.

And the harsh iron flashed fire

the blade - yes - flame in the hand

of wanton Lemminkäinen;

the gleam fared further

crashed down upon the

neck of that Northlander's son.

The fair Farmind said:

'Aha, master of Northland:

your neck, wretched man

is like the dawn - red!'

That Northlander's son

master of Northland

then shifted his gaze

towards his own neck.

That wanton Lemminkäinen

thereat slashed away:

he struck the man with his sword

bashed him with his brand.

Now, he cracked down once -

took the head off the shoulders

the skull he smacked from the neck

like the top off a turnip

or the head off a cornstalk

or a fin from any fish:

the head rolled on to the yard

the man's skull on the farmyard

as picked off by an arrow

a capercaillie drops from a tree.

There were a hundred stakes on the hill

a thousand stood bristling in the yard

with hundreds of heads upon the stakes.

One stake is without a head:

that wanton Lemminkäinen

took up the worthy boy's head

bore the skull from the farmyard

on to that very stake's tip.

Then Ahti the Islander

he, the fair Farmind

when he had returned indoors

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Bring water, hateful wench, that

I may wash my hands

of the evil master's blood

the vicious man's gore!'

The hag of the North was wroth -

she was wroth, she was angry

and she sang swordsmen

fellows with weapons

a hundred swordsmen

a thousand bearers of brands

out for Lemminkäinen's head

to fall upon Farmind's neck.

Now the time comes, to be sure

the day slips towards the hour

indeed, things grow too painful

things turn out too troublesome

for the boy Ahti to stay

Lemminkäinen to dawdle

at that Northland feast

the sly crowd's revels.

28. Into Hiding

Now Ahti the Islander

he, wanton Lemminkäinen

slips into hiding

and takes to his heels

out of dark Northland

the murky house of Sara:

he whirled out of doors as snow

arrives as smoke in the yard

to flee from bad deeds

to hide from his crimes.

When he comes into the yard

he looks around, turns around

sought the stallion he once had:

he does not see the stallion

but a boulder in the field

a willow shrub at the edge.

What is the best plan

what plan to follow

lest his head go ill

his locks come to grief

and his fine hair fall

in these Northland yards?

Now a noise was heard from the village

a hubbub from the other houses

a light winked in the village

eyes were staring from windows.

There wanton Lemminkäinen

he, Ahti the Islander

had to become someone else

he must change his shape:

as an eagle he swept up

wanted to soar heavenward;

the sun burnt his cheeks

the moon lit his brows.

There wanton Lemminkäinen

prays to the Old Man:

'O Old Man, good god

careful man of heaven

keeper of stormclouds

and governor of vapours:

make misty weather

and create a tiny cloud

in whose shelter I may go

wend my way homeward

back to my kindly mother

towards my honoured parent!'

And away he flaps

looked once behind him

spotted a grey hawk:

its eyes burned as fire like those

of the Northerner's son, who

had been master of the North.

The grey hawk said: 'Hey

Ahti my little brother

do you remember the war

of old and the well-matched fight?'

Ahti the Islander said

the fair Farmind spoke:

'O my hawk, my little bird

turn around homeward!

Say when you get there

in dark Northland: "It is hard

to catch an eagle by hand

to eat a quill-bird with nails."'

Soon he arrived home

back to his kindly mother

28:67-134

with a sad look on his face

and a gloomy heart.

He meets his mother

as she walks along the lane

steps beside the fence;

his mother hastened to ask:

'My offspring, my younger one

my child, my baby!

Why are you in bad spirits

as you come back from Northland?

Was there cheating with tankards

at that Northland feast?

If they cheated with tankards

you'll get a better tankard

got by your father from war

fetched back from a fight.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'O my mother who bore me

who would cheat me with tankards?

I would cheat masters myself

I'd cheat a hundred fellows

a thousand men I'd take on.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Why are you in bad spirits?

Were you beaten with stallions

shamed with the foals of a horse?

If they beat you with stallions

buy a stallion that's better

with the goods your father got

your parent laid up!'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'O my mother who bore me

who would shame me with horses

or beat me with foals?

I would shame masters myself

beat stallion-drivers

stout men with their foals

and fellows with their stallions.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Why are you in bad spirits

and wherefore gloomy of heart

coming from Northland?

Were you disgraced with women

or mocked with wenches?

If you were disgraced

with women, mocked with wenches

others will be mocked again

women will be disgraced back.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'O my mother who bore me

who'd disgrace me with women

or would mock me with wenches?

I'd disgrace masters myself

all the wenches I would mock

I'd disgrace a hundred women too

and a thousand other brides.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'What's the matter, my offspring?

Has something happened to you

on your visit to Northland

or after eating too much -

eating and drinking too much -

have you had strange dreams

where you spent the night?'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

managed there to say:

'Let hags think about

those dreams in the night!

28:135-204

I remember my night-dreams

but my day-dreams more clearly.

O my mother, old woman

lay provisions in a sack

put meal in a linen cloth

stow salt in a rag! It is

time for a boy to be off

and to take a trip

abroad from this dear

home, from this fair farm:

men are honing swords

and sharpening spears.'

The mother hastened to ask

the pains-taker to question:

'But why are they honing swords

and sharpening spears?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'For this they are honing swords

and sharpening spears -

for the head of luckless me

for this mean one's neck. There was

a deed, something has happened

in those Northland yards:

I've killed the Northerner's son -

him, the master of Northland.

Northland has risen for war

the pest yonder for a fight

against me, the woebegone

all around me on my own.'

The mother put this in words

the eldest spoke to her child:

'I have already told you

and already warned you too

and still tried to forbid you

to go to Northland.

You could have stayed in the right

and lived in mother's cabins

in your own parent's care, at

the farm of her who bore you

and there would have been no war

and no fight would have happened.

Where now, my son, luckless boy

where, mean one I bore

will you go to hide from crime

flee from the bad deed

lest your head go ill

and your fair neck break

your locks come to grief

and your fine hair fall?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'I don't know where I

could take to my heels

to hide from my crimes.

O my mother who bore me

where do you tell me to hide?'

Lemminkäinen's mother said

she declared, spoke thus:

'I don't know where to tell you -

where to tell and compel you.

Go, be a pine on a hill

a juniper on the heath:

even there ruin will come

hard luck will meet you

for often a hilltop pine

is cut down for splints

often a juniper heath

is cleared to make stakes.

Rise, be a birch on a marsh

or in a grove an alder:

28:205-276

even there ruin would come

hard luck would find you

for often a marshland birch

is chopped for stacking

often a grove of alders

is hewn for sowing.

Go and be a berry on a hill

a cowberry on the heath

on these lands be strawberries

bilberries on other lands:

even there ruin would come

hard luck would meet you

for the young maids would pluck you

the tin-breasted would tear you.

Go, be a pike in the sea

be a whitefish in the smooth river:

even there ruin would come

a hard end would strike

for a young, a sooty man

would take his net to waters

haul the young ones in the seine

catch the old ones in his net.

Go and be a wolf in the forest

bruin in the wilderness:

even there ruin would come

hard luck would meet you

for a young sooty-faced man

would sharpen his spear

for slaughtering wolves

felling forest bears.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'But I know the wickedest

can work out the worst places

where doom would bite hold

a hard end would strike.

Mother who fed me

mamma who gave milk to me!

Where do you tell me to hide -

where do you tell and compel?

Doom stares me right in the face

the evil day at my beard

one day left for a man's head -

hardly a whole one at that.'

Then Lemminkäinen's mother

uttered and spoke thus:

'I will say quite a good place

one very sweet I will name

for hiding from a bad deed

for a culprit to flee to:

I recall a tiny spot

I know a bit of a place

with no eating, no beating

no meeting of a man's sword.

You, swear an oath for ever

without lying or fooling

that for six, for ten summers

you'll not go to war

even for greed of silver

or for need of gold!'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'I swear an oath - no fooling -

that not for the first summer

nor yet for the next either

shall I get into great wars

into those clashes of swords;

my shoulders still bear the wounds

and my chest the deep gashes

from merrymakings before

from clashes gone by

on the great war-hills

on the killing-grounds of men.'

28:277-29:32

Then Lemminkäinen's mother

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'All right: take your father's craft

go yonder and hide -

right over nine seas

and half a tenth sea

to the island on the main

the crag in the sea

where your father hid -

both hid and kept safe

in the great summers of war

in the hard years of battle;

'twas good for him to be there

sweet for him to tarry there.

Hide there for one year, for two

and come home during the third

to father's cabins you know

your parent's moorings!'

29. Conquests

Lemminkäinen, wanton boy

he, the fair Farmind

gets provisions in a sack

summer butter in his box

butter to eat for his year

and pork for the next;

then he went into hiding -

he both went and sped.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'So now I'm off, on the run

for the whole of three summers

for five little years;

I leave lands for worms to eat

groves for lynxes to rest in

fields for reindeer to romp in

and glades for geese to dwell in.

Farewell, my good mother! When

the people of the North come

and the large crowd of Darkland

asking for my head

say I wandered off

went from here after felling

the very clearing

whose crop has just now been reaped!'

With a jerk he launched the boat

let the ship go to the waves

off rollers of steel

from copper moorings;

he hoisted sails up the pole

canvas on the mast;

he sits in the stern

got himself going

29:33-104

with the birch prow's help

the long paddle's aid.

He uttered a word, spoke thus

he declared, chattered:

'Blow, wind, on the sail

gale, drive the vessel;

let the wooden craft

run, the pine boat go

to the island with no word

to the headland with no name!'

The wind lulled the little boat

the sea surf pushed it along

over the clear main

on the open expanses;

lulled it along for two months

soon for a third month as well.

And there sat the headland maids

on the shore of the blue sea;

they are looking and turning

their eyes towards the blue sea.

One waited for her brother

hoped her father was coming;

but that one truly waited

who waited for her bridegroom.

Far away Farmind appears

Farmind's ship further away:

'tis like a small bank of cloud

between the water and heaven.

The headland maids think

and the island lassies say:

'What's that strange thing on the sea

what wonder is on the waves?

If you are a ship of ours

if an island sailing-craft

turn yourself homeward

towards the island's moorings:

we would get to hear the news

the tidings from foreign lands

whether shore-folk are at peace

or else living in battle.'

The wind is veering the craft

the billow driving the ship;

soon wanton Lemminkäinen

brought the craft up to the crag

ran the ship to the isle's end

the tip of the isle's headland.

He said when he arrived there

inquired when he came:

'Is there space on the island

land on the island's mainland

to beach a boat, overturn

a craft on dry land?'

The island lassies

say, the headland maids answer:

'Yes, there's space on the island

land on the island's mainland

to beach a boat, overturn

a craft on dry land:

here the moorings are roomy

the shores are full of rollers

though you arrived in a hundred boats

and came in a thousand craft.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

beached the boat and hauled the craft

on to the wooden rollers

and he put this into words:

'Is there room on the island

land on the island's mainland

for a tiny man to hide

for a puny one to flee

from the great thunders of war

from the clashes of sword blades?'

29:105-173

The island lassies

say, the headland maids answer:

'Yes, there's room on the island

land on the island's mainland

for a tiny man to hide

for a puny one to flee:

we have many strongholds here

grand farms to dwell in

though a hundred fellows should arrive

and a thousand men should come.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Is there room on the island

land on the island's mainland

a small corner of birchwoods

and a bit of other land

for me to fell a clearing

a good spot for pioneering?'

The island lassies

say, the headland maids answer:

'There's no room on the island

land on the island's mainland

not one space broad as your back

not a bushel's worth of land

for you to fell a clearing

no good spot for pioneering:

the isle's lands are parcelled out

the fields measured with yardsticks;

for the glades lots have been cast

for the turf courts have been held.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind asked:

'Is there space on the island

land on the island's mainland

for me to sing my

songs, to lilt long tales?

The words unfreeze in my mouth

on my gums they are sprouting.'

The island lassies

say, the headland maids answer:

'Yes, there's space on the island

land on the island's mainland

for you to sing your

songs, to lilt good tales

groves for you to play games in

ground for you to dance upon.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

set about singing:

he sang rowans in the yards

oaks in the midst of barnyards

upon an oak shapely boughs

upon each bough an acorn

upon the acorn a golden whorl

upon the golden whorl a cuckoo;

when the cuckoo calls

gold gushes out of its mouth

and copper flows from its jaws

silver comes foaming

on a golden knoll

on a silver hill.

And still Lemminkäinen sang

still he sang and recited -

sang the sands to beads

all the rocks till they glistened

all the trees till they glowed red

the flowers till they were gold-hued;

and then Lemminkäinen sang -

sang a well in the farmyard

a golden lid on the well

29:174-243

a golden pail on the lid

from which brothers drink water

sisters wash their eyes;

he sang a pool on the ground

on the pool blue ducks

their brows gold, their heads silver

and all their toes of copper.

The island lasses marvelled

and the headland maids wondered

at Lemminkäinen's singing

at the fellow's skill.

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'I would sing quite a good tale

quite a fair one I'd bellow

if I were under a roof

at a long deal table's head.

If there's no cabin to spare

and no floor to yield, I'll take

the words off to the backwoods

tip the tales in the thicket.'

The island lassies

say, the headland maidens think:

'We have cabins to come to

grand farms to dwell in

to bring your tales from the cold

get the words in from outside.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

the moment he came indoors

he sang flagons from beyond

to the long deal table's head

sang the flagons full of beer

the jugs fair with mead

the bowls up to the bulwarks

the cups to the brim:

flagonfuls of beer, jugfuls

of honey had been brought in

and butter laid in ready

pork to go with it

for wanton Lemminkäinen

to eat, Farmind to enjoy.

But Farmind is most haughty:

no, he will not start eating

without a silver-tipped knife

without a golden dagger.

He got a silver-tipped knife

he sang a golden dagger;

then he eats his fill

drank beer to his heart's content.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

went out visiting

making merry with the isle's lasses

amid braided heads' beauty:

wherever he turned his head

there his mouth is kissed

wherever he reached his hand

there his hand is touched.

He stayed out all night

in the pitch darkness:

there was no village

where there were not ten houses

there was not a house

where there were not ten daughters

nor yet a daughter

not a mother's child

by whose side he did not stretch

and whose arm he did not tame.

A thousand the brides he knew

a hundred widows he laid:

there were not two out of ten

29:244-316

three out of a whole hundred

wenches left unheld

widows left unlaid.

So wanton Lemminkäinen

relishes a quiet life

for three whole summers

in the isle's great villages

delighted the isle's lasses

all the widows too he soothed.

One remained unsoothed

one wretched old lass

who's at the long headland's end

in a tenth village; by now

he had a mind to travel

to go off to his own lands

but the wretched old lass came

and she put this into words:

'Wretched Farmind, handsome man!

If you don't remember me

I will as you go from here

run your craft upon a rock.'

But he did not hear to rise without

the cock, leap up without the hen's child

to enjoy that lassie too

disgrace the wretched woman;

so one day among others

one evening among many

he set on an hour to rise

before the moon, the cock too

and he rose before his hour

before his appointed time

and straight off he went

roaming through the villages

to enjoy that lassie too

disgrace the wretched woman.

As by night alone he went

his way through the villages

there to the long headland's end

to the tenth village

he saw not one house

in which were not three dwellings

he saw no dwelling

in which were not three fellows

he saw no fellow

who was not honing a sword

not sharpening a hatchet

meant for Lemminkäinen's head.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Woe, darling day has broken

and the dear sun has risen

on me, luckless boy

on this mean one's neck!

Will the Devil shield

but one fellow in his clothes

keep him in his cloaks

guard him in his capes

as hundreds arrive

as thousands set upon him!'

The maids remained unembraced

and the embraced unfondled.

He strolled to the boat rollers

now, the luckless to his craft:

the craft has been burnt to ash

and reduced to dust!

He felt his ruin coming, his

day of trouble catching up.

He began to carve a boat

work on a new craft

but the craft-smith needed trees

the boatbuilder planks:

he gets wood, a tiny bit

and planking, very little -

29:317-388

five pieces of a distaff

six fragments of a bobbin.

Out of that he carves a boat

works on a new craft:

he built the boat with knowledge

on stocks of wisdom:

he struck once - one side emerged;

he struck twice - two sides were born;

he struck a third time as well -

from that the whole boat arrived.

Now he launched the boat

let the ship go to the waves.

He uttered a word, spoke thus

he declared, chattered:

'Be bubbles, boat, on waters

water lilies on the waves!

Eagle, three of your feathers

eagle, three and raven, two

for the small boat's sake

the slight craft's handrails!'

He steps into his vessel

he scrambled to the boat's stern

his head down, in bad spirits

helmet all askew

for he could not stay the nights

nor dally the days

making merry with the isle's lasses

capering with braided heads.

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

"Tis time for a boy to go

on his way from these abodes

from making merry with these lasses

capering with these fair ones;

but for sure when I have left

when I've gone from here

lassies will not make merry

nor braided heads skip about

in these dull cabins

in these mean farmyards.'

Now the island lasses wept

the headland maids groaned:

'Why, Lemminkäinen, have you

left, departed, best of men?

Were the wenches too proper

or were the women too few?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'The wenches weren't too proper

nor were the women too few:

why, I'd have a hundred wives

could hold a thousand wenches.

Here's why I, Lemminkäinen

left, departed, best of men:

I have felt a keen longing -

a longing for my own lands

for my own lands' strawberries

for my own slope's raspberries

for my own headland's maidens

my own farmyard's hens.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

let his ship go further out:

a wind came, blew it

and a billow came, drove it

out upon the blue high seas

upon the open expanse.

The wretches remained ashore

the soft ones on a wet rock

the island lasses weeping

and the golden ones moaning:

the isle's lasses only wept

and the headland maids cried woe

29:389-461

while the mast is visible

and the iron-rowlocked looms;

they do not weep for the mast

yearn for the iron-rowlocked

but for him below the mast

for the keeper of the sheet.

Lemminkäinen himself wept

but he only wept and grieved

while the island's lands are visible

and the island's ridges loom;

he does not weep for the island's lands

yearn for the island's ridges

but for the island lassies

for those goslings of the ridge.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

fared forth upon the blue sea;

he fared one day, he fared two

till on the third day

there sprang up a wind

the skyline flared up -

a great wind, nor'westerly

a hard wind, a nor'easter:

it took one side, it took two

capsized the whole boat.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

turned his hands to the water

rowed away with his fingers

paddled with his feet.

When he had swum night and day

when he'd paddled quite a lot

he beheld a tiny cloud

a cloud bank to the north-west -

and lo, it changed into land

altered into a headland.

He climbed ashore to a house

and found the mistress baking

the daughters patting the loaves:

'O kindly mistress!

If you could see my hunger

could guess how it is with me

you'd go running to the shed

swirl as snow to the beer-hut;

you'd bring a flagon of beer

and a slice of pork

you would put it on to roast

you would spread butter on it

for a weary man to eat

for a fellow who has swum to drink.

I've been swimming nights and days

on the open sea's billows

with every wind my refuge

the sea's billows my mercy.'

That kindly mistress

went to the shed on the hill

cut some butter from the shed

and a slice of pork

and she puts it on to roast

for the hungry man to eat

she brings beer in a flagon

for the fellow who has swum to drink;

she gave him then a new craft

a boat quite ready

for the man to go to other lands

to make his way home.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

when he arrived home

knew the lands and knew the shores

both the islands and the straits

knew his old moorings

places where he used to live;

the hills he knew with their pines

all the mounds with their spruces -

but he does not know where his

29:462-533

cabin is, where his wall stands:

there instead of the cabin

young bird cherries were rustling

pines upon the cabin-hill

junipers on the well-path!

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'There is the grove where I moved

the rocks I rocked on

the turfs I played on

the field edges where I romped.

What took the cabins I knew

and who the fair roofs?

The cabin's been burnt to ash

the wind's swept up the cinders!'

At that he began to weep -

he wept one day, he wept two;

he wept, not for the cabin

nor for the shed did he yearn

but for her he knew indoors

for his dear one in the shed.

He beholds a bird flying

an eagle gliding

and set about asking it:

'O eagle, my little bird

could you not manage to say

where is the mother I had

where the fair one who bore me

the sweet one who suckled me?'

But the eagle remembers

the stupid bird knows nothing:

the eagle swore she was dead

the raven that she was lost

dispatched with a sword

killed with a hatchet.

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'Alas, fair one who bore me

and sweet one who suckled me:

now you who bore me are dead

and gone, my kindly mother

your flesh rotted into mould

and spruces have grown on top

junipers upon your heels

willows at your fingertips!

Vainly I, a wretch

in vain, ill-fated

I sized up my sword

bore a fair weapon

in those Northland yards

Darkland's field edges

to the doom of my own kin

the loss of her who bore me!'

He looks around, turns around:

he saw a bit of a track

crumpled in the grass

and broken in the heather.

He trod the road to find out

trod the path to learn:

into the forest the road

leads, the path takes him.

He strolled from there one mile, two

he ran off a little way

into gloomiest backwoods

a hollow in the dim wilds:

he sees a hidden sauna

a small secret hut

between two cliffs and beneath

a corner of three spruces -

sees there his kindly mother

that honoured parent of his.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

29:534-602

was utterly delighted;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Ah, my dear mamma

mother who kept me!

Mother, you are still alive

my parent, awake

when by now I thought you dead

by all accounts lost

dispatched with a sword

picked off with a spear!

I wept away my sweet eyes

my fair face I lost.'

Lemminkäinen's mother said:

'Oh yes, I am still alive

though I had to flee

slip into hiding

here into gloomy backwoods

a hollow in the dim wilds.

Northland waged a war

the crowd yonder picked a fight

against you, the woebegone

and on you, the ill-fated:

they burnt the cabins to ash

all our farm they felled.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'O my mother who bore me

don't worry at all -

at all about that!

New cabins will be

built, and better ones gone for;

Northland will be made war on

the Devil's folk will be felled.'

Then Lemminkäinen's mother

put this into words:

'Long you've lingered, my offspring,

ages, my Farmind, you've been

in those foreign lands

always at strange doors

on the headland with no name

on the island with no word.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

"Twas good for me to be there

pleasant for me to flit there:

the trees there shone red

the trees red and the lands blue

silver the fir boughs

gold the flowers of the heather;

there the hills were full of mead

and the cliffs full of hen's eggs;

honey oozed from dry spruces

milk from rotten pines

from fence corners butter dripped

from the stakes beer poured -

'twas good for me to be there

sweet for me to tarry there.

Then 'twas bad to live

then 'twas strange for me to be:

they were afraid their wenches

they thought their sluts, those

pot-bellied wretches

Old Harry's waddlers

would get ill-treatment from me

spend too many nights with me;

but I hid from the wenches

kept clear of woman's daughters -

as the wolf hides from the pigs

the hawks from the village hens!'

30. Jack Forst

Ahti boy, the matchless boy

wanton boy Lemminkäinen

quite early in the morning

quite betimes on the morrow

stepped out to his boathouses

set out for his ship moorings.

And there a wooden craft wept

one with iron rowlocks moaned:

'What of me who have been built

wretched me who have been formed?

Ahti has not rowed to war

these six, ten summers

even for greed of silver

nor even for need of gold.'

That wanton Lemminkäinen

struck the craft with his mitt, his

brightly trimmed mitten

and he put this into words:

'Never mind, floating fir tree

one with bulwarks, don't complain!

You'll get off to war again

trudge off to a fight:

you will be full of oarsmen

from tomorrow on.'

He steps up to his mother

and he put this into words:

'You'll not weep now, my mother

complain, my parent

if I go somewhere

head for the places of war.

It occurred to me

the thought came to me

to fell the folk of the North

punish the mean ones.'

The mother tried to hinder

the old woman warned:

'Do not go, my boy

to those Northland wars!

There your doom will come

you will meet your death.'

What did Lemminkäinen care!

He was determined to go

he intended to set out;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Where could I get a second

man, both man and sword

as a war-help to Ahti

one more for the well-to-do?

Now, there's Tiera I know of

Snowy I have heard about!

That's where I'll get a second

man, both man and sword

as a war-help to Ahti

one more for the well-to-do.'

He goes there through villages

down the roads to Tiera's farm

and he said when he got there

explained when he came:

'Tiera, my old mate

my friend, my buddy!

Do you recall how we were

how we used to live

when once the two of us walked

30:64-136

in the great places of war?

There was no village

where there were not ten houses

there was not a house

where there were not ten fellows

there was no fellow

nor a man to reckon with

who we did not fell

and the two of us cut down.'

Father was at the window

whittling a spear shaft

mother on the shed threshold

was rattling a churn

the brothers in the gateway

were building bobsleighs

the sisters at the quay end

were fulling some cloaks.

Father spoke from the window

mother from the shed threshold

the brothers from the gateway

the sisters from the quay end:

'Tiera has no time for war

Tiera's ice-pick for a fight!

Tiera's made a famous deal

struck a bargain for ever:

he's just wedded a young wife

taken on his own mistress;

the nipples are yet

unfingered, the breasts unworn.'

Tiera who was at the hearth

Snowy at the stove corner

put on one shoe at the hearth

the other at the seat's edge

at the gate puts on his belt

and outside paces about.

Tiera snatched his spear;

it is not a great big spear

nor a little tiny spear

but a spear of middle size:

a horse stood upon the edge

a foal frolicked on the side

a wolf howled upon the joint

a bear growled where the peg went.

He brandished his spear -

brandished it, yanked it

hurled the spear shaft a fathom

deep into the clayey field

the turf where nothing would grow

the land where no hummock was;

Tiera thrust his spear

in with Ahti's spears

he both went and sped

as a war-help to Ahti.

Then Ahti the Islander

he pushed the boat out

like a viper in the grass

or a snake alive

and struck out north-west

on that Northland sea.

Then the mistress of Northland

sent Jack Frost the evil one

on that Northland sea

upon the open expanse

and she put this into words

both told and declared:

'Jack Frost, little boy

my own fair one I brought up:

go where I tell you -

tell and compel you!

Chill the rogue's small boat

wanton Lemminkäinen's craft

upon the high seas

upon the open expanse

30:137-210

and chill the master himself

freeze the rogue on the waters

so that he'll never get out

never in this world be free

unless I get to letting him out

get round to relieving him!'

Jack Frost of bad kin

an ill-mannered boy

went to chill the sea

to fix the billows

and on his way there

going overland

bit the trees leafless

the grasses huskless;

then, when he got there

to the edge of the North's sea

to the brink of the boundless

right on the first night

he chilled bays, chilled pools

struck seashores rigid

but did not yet chill the sea

nor fix the billows. There is

a small chaffinch on the main

a wagtail upon the waves:

its claws are not chilled either

its small head has not felt cold.

Only two nights after that

he sprang to full size

cast about him shamelessly

and grew to be quite dreadful:

he chilled then with all his might

the force of frost bit -

chilled with ice a cubit thick

snowed a ski-pole deep

and chilled the rogue's boat

Ahti's ship upon the waves.

He meant to chill Ahti too

to freeze the mighty fellow;

he asked for his nails

went for his toes from below.

Then Lemminkäinen

was angry, took it badly;

he thrust Jack Frost into fire

pushed him into a furnace.

He laid hands upon Jack Frost

seized the hard weather;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Jack Frost, son of Blast

winter's slushy son:

do not chill my nails

don't demand my toes

and don't touch my ears

do not bite my head!

There's enough for you to chill

a lot too to bite

without man's skin, the body

of one borne by a mother:

chill swamps and chill lands

and chill chilly rocks

bite weeping willows

take gnarls of aspen

make bark of birch ache

nibble young spruces -

not man's skin, the hairs

of one made by a woman!

If that's not enough for you

chill other, more wondrous things:

chill some red-hot rocks

some burning boulders

some cliffs of iron

some mountains of steel

the steep rapid of Vuoksi

wicked Imatra

30:211-282

the mouth of the whirlpool's throat

the frightful eddy!

'Shall I tell you now your kin

make your honour known? -

for I know about your kin

all about your growing up:

Jack Frost was born on willows

hard weather among birches

deep inside a Northland tent

down in a Darkland cabin

of an ever rascally

father, a useless mother.

Who suckled Jack Frost

moistened hard weather

when mamma was without milk

mother without dugs?

A viper suckled Jack Frost -

a viper suckled, a snake

fed with nipples without tips

with a withered dug;

the north wind lulled him

the chilly air dandled him

upon evil willow streams

upon overflowing mires.

The boy became ill-mannered

he grew destructive;

but he had no name

yet, the worthless boy.

The bad boy was called a name:

he was called Jack Frost.

Then along fences he dashed

among brushwood he rustled;

summers he darted in mires

on the largest open swamps;

winters he throbbed among firs

pounded among pines

slammed about among birches

among alders flapped about

chilled trees and hay stalks

levelled out bare ground

bit the trees leafless

the heather flowerless

stripped the pines of bark

the firs of slivers.

'Now you have sprung to full size

come up to be most handsome

do you intend to chill me

to inflame my ears

go for my feet from below

ask for my nails from above?

But you'll not chill me

nor bite me badly either:

I'll thrust fire in my stocking

firebrands in my shoe

fine embers into my hems

and beneath my shoelaces -

a blaze Jack Frost cannot bite

and hard weather will not touch.

'There I banish you -

to the furthest North;

then, when you get there

when you reach your home

chill the pans upon the fire

the embers in the fireplace

the woman's hands in the dough

the boy on the maid's bosom

the milk in the ewe's udder

the foal in the mare's belly!

'If you pay no heed to that

yonder I will banish you -

among the Demon's embers

to the Devil's hearth:

30:283-356

there thrust yourself in the fire

set yourself on the anvil

for the smith to beat with his

sledgehammer, to bash with his hammer

beat hard with his sledgehammer

painfully with his hammer!

'If you'll not heed even that

and not yield even a bit

I recall still somewhere else

I can think of one region:

I'll take your mouth to the south

and your tongue to summer's home

from where you'll never get out

never in this world be free

unless I get to free you

and turn up to unloose you!'

Jack Frost, son of Blast

felt ruin coming, and he

began to beg for mercy;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Let us make a pact

not to hurt one another

ever in this world

not in a month of Sundays!

If you hear I'm chilling things

or up to mischief again

thrust me into the fireplace

tame me in the flame

down among the smith's embers

down in Ilmarinen's forge

or take my mouth to the south

and my tongue to summer's home

so that I'll never get out

never in this world be free!'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

left the ship frozen

and the war-craft stuck

and goes on; at that

Tiera as the second man

strode after the rogue.

He tramped on the level ice

over its smoothness he slid:

he stepped one day and then two

till on the third day

Hunger Headland now appears

and the wretched village looms.

He stepped below its stronghold

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Is there meat in the stronghold

and fish at the farm

for fellows who are weary

for men who are tired?'

No meat was in the stronghold

no fish at the farm.

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'Fire, burn the stupid stronghold

may water take such a place!'

He fares further on

up into the wilds he went

on ways where no dwelling was

and on roads unknown.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

that one, fair Farmind

wound scraps of wool off a rock

tore hairs off a cliff

fashioned them into stockings

improvised mittens

for the great places of cold

the bites of Jack Frost.

He trod the road to find out

trod the path to learn:

into the forest the road

leads, the path takes him.

30:357-429

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

'Tiera my little brother

now we've ended up somewhere

to roam night and day

on the skyline for ever!'

Tiera put this into words

he declared, spoke thus:

'Vainly, poor wretches

vainly we, the ill-fated

came to a great war

here in dark Northland

just to waste our lives

to lose ourselves for ever

in these places of evil

on these roads unknown.

We don't know at all -

we don't know, we've no idea

what road will lead us

which track will take us

to die in the wilds

to fall on the heath

on the ravens' homes

on the crows' acres.

There the ravens will shift us

the wicked birds bear us off:

the little birds will get meat

the crows hot blood, the ravens

something to moisten their beaks

from our poor corpses;

our bones they'll cast on a cairn

bear off to a reef.

My luckless mother does not

nor the mean one who bore me

know where her flesh is moving

where her own blood is rolling -

whether 'tis in a great war

in a well-matched fight

or else on the mighty main

upon the vast waves

or treading a piny hill

wandering scrubby backwoods.

Mother knows nothing

of her luckless son:

mother has learnt that he's dead

she who bore him that he's lost.

This is how my mother weeps

my parent complains:

"There's the son of luckless me

there, woe is me, my support -

in Tuoni's corn crop

the harrow-lands of the grave;

now my son's, my child's

crossbows, hapless me

will be left idle

the mighty bows to dry out

the little birds to grow fat

the grouse in the grove to strut

the bruins to live it up

the reindeer to romp afield!" '

Wanton Lemminkäinen spoke

the fair Farmind said:

That's right, yes, luckless mother

that's right, mean one who bore me

You brought up a brood of chicks

a whole crowd of swans:

the wind came and scattered us

the Devil came and strewed us -

some this way, some that

and a third lot somewhere else.

I well recall long ago

I think of a better time

when we went about as flowers

30:430-500

as berries on our own lands:

many looked at our

forms, stared at our stems.

Not like nowadays

in this evil age: there is

of our friends only the wind

the sun of those we once saw;

even this the clouds

cover, the rain hides.

But I do not care to care

nor greatly to grieve

though the lasses should live well

the braided heads skip about

the wives all with smiling lips

and the brides in honeyed mood

not weeping out of longing

giving way to care.

'Witches won't bewitch us yet

witches bewitch nor seers see

to die on these roads

to sink on these ways

to fall asleep young

to roll over full-blooded.

Whoever witches bewitch

whoever seers see

may he make it home

and moulder in his dwelling -

and may they bewitch themselves

may they sing at their children

may they slay their kin

may they curse their clan!

My father did not

nor did my honoured parent

heed a witch's will

give gifts to a Lapp;

thus said my father

and thus say I too:

Keep me, steadfast Creator

guard me, fair God, keep

me with your merciful hand

with your mighty power

from the whims of men

from the wiles of hags

the chatter of bearded mouths

the chatter of the beardless;

be a constant help

and a steadfast protector

lest a son should turn away

one borne by a mother stray

from the trail the Creator

has blazed, God has brought about!'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

made his cares into horses

sorrows into black geldings

headstalls out of evil days

saddles out of secret hates:

he leapt on a good one's back

upon a good blaze-brow's flanks

and he thunders on his way

with his friend Tiera

and he clattered along shores

he swished along sandy shores

back to his kindly mother

towards his honoured parent.

There I will leave my Farmind

out of my tale for some time

sending Tiera down the road

on his way homeward

and I'll switch the tale

set it on another track.

31. Feud and Serfdom

A mother reared chicks

a great crowd of swans;

she set the chicks on the fence

brought the swans to the river.

An eagle came, snatched them up

a hawk came and scattered them

a winged bird strewed them:

one it bore to Karelia

one it took to Russian soil

and the third it left at home.

The one it took to Russia

grew to be a trading man

the one borne to Karelia

grew up to be Kalervo

and the one it left at home

sprang up to be Untamo

who would blight his father's days

who would break his mother's heart.

Untamo let down his nets

in Kalervo's fishing-ground;

Kalervo looked to the nets

gathered the fish in his bag.

Untamo, a lively man

he was angry and furious:

he made war from his fingers

from his palm-ends a lawsuit

raised a quarrel from fish guts

a row from perch fry.

They quarrelled, they fought

but neither beat the other:

whichever slanged the other

got back as good as he gave.

Another time after that

at the end of two, three days

Kalervo sowed oats

behind Untamo's cabin;

Untamo-land's fine ewe ate

Kalervo's oat-crop;

Kalervo's fierce dog

tore Untamo's ewe to bits.

Untamo threatens

to slaughter the kin

of Kalervo his brother

to smite the great, smite the small

to strike down all the people

to burn the cabins to ash:

he put swords in the men's belts

weapons in the fellows' hands

pikes in the little boys' belts

billhooks on striplings' shoulders

and he went to a great war

with his own brother.

Kalervo's handsome daughter-in-law

was sitting by the window;

she looked out of the window

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Is that thick smoke, or

is it a dark cloud

on those furthest fields

at the new lane's end?'

But it was no hazy haze

nor was it thick smoke:

it was Untamo's fellows

approaching for war

and Untamo's fellows came

the sword-belted men arrived

and they felled Kalervo's crowd

31:68-140

and the great kin they slaughtered

burnt the house to ash

razed it to the ground.

One Kalervo lass remained

who had a heavy belly:

Untamo's fellows

took her home with them

to clean a small room

and to sweep the floor.

A little time passed

and a small boy-child was born

to the unhappy mother.

What shall he be named?

Mother called him Kullervo

but Untamo Warrior.

The small boy was put

and the orphan child was laid

in a cot to sway

and in a cradle to rock.

The child rocked in the cradle

the child rocked, his locks wafted:

he rocked one day, he rocked two

till soon by the third

when that boy kicked out -

kicked out, tensed himself

he burst through his swaddling bands

got on top of his cover

smashed the rocker of limewood

ripped up all his rags.

A promising one was seen

a fit one spotted.

Untamo-land waits

for this one to grow from this

into a good mind, a man

a right fellow, to become

a serf worth a hundred, to

turn out one worth a thousand.

He grew two, three months

till by the third month

the boy at knee-height

began to think for himself:

'Would I were to get bigger

to grow stronger in body

I'd avenge my father's knocks

I'd pay back my mother's tears!'

Untamo happened to hear

and he put this into words:

'From this my kin's doom will come

from this Kalervo will grow!'

And the fellows consider

all the hags think where

the boy shall be put

and where meet his doom:

he's put in a kilderkin

thrust into a barrel, then

he's taken to the water

dropped into the wave.

They go out to see

after two, three nights, whether

he has drowned in the water

and died in the kilderkin:

he's not drowned in the water

not died in the kilderkin!

He's escaped the kilderkin

was sitting on the billows

a copper rod in his hand

a silken line on the end;

he is angling for sea fish

measuring the seawater:

there's quite a lot of water

for he has two ladlefuls;

were he to measure it right

he would get part of a third.

31:141-212

Untamo considers: 'Where

shall the boy be put

where will this one be destroyed

and where meet his doom?'

He told his serfs to gather

birches, hardwood trees

firs with sprigs by the hundred

lumps of tar-wood they knew of

for the burning of one boy

the losing of Kullervo.

They collected, they gathered

birches, hardwood trees

firs with sprigs by the hundred

lumps of tar-wood they knew of,

birchbark, a thousand sledgefuls,

ashwood, a hundred armfuls

and the wood was set on fire

the pile set ablaze:

into it the boy was hurled

right into the burning fire.

It burned one day and then two

it burned a third day as well.

They went out to check: the boy

was in ash up to his knees

in dust up to his forearms

with a charred hook in his hand

with which he stirs up the fire

rakes the embers together

without a hair being lost

without a curl being crimped!

And Untamo rages: 'Where

shall the boy be put

where will this one be destroyed

will doom come to him?'

The boy is hanged on a tree

strung up on an oak.

Two or three nights passed

the same number of days too

and Untamo considers:

'It is time to go and see

whether Kullervo is lost

the boy's dead on the gallows.'

He made a serf look.

The serf brought word back:

'No, Kullervo is not lost

he's not dead on the gallows!

The boy's drawing on the wood

with a small thorn in his hand;

the whole tree's full of pictures

the oak is full of drawings:

here are men, here swords

here spears at the side.'

Well, what could Untamo do

with this wretched boy!

Whatever dooms he arranged

whatever deaths brought about

the boy will not fall into doom's mouth

nor will he die anyway.

In the end he had to tire

of arranging dooms for him

had to bring up Kullervo

raise the serf as his own son

and Untamo said his say

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'If you live nicely

always behave well

you may remain in this house

and do a serf's jobs.

Wages are paid in arrears

earnings are assigned -

a handsome belt for your waist

or else a belt on the ear.'

31:213-283

When Kullervo had grown up

put on a span of body

he was set to work

he was put to toil

looking after a small child

rocking one with small fingers:

'Look after the child nicely

feed the child, eat too yourself;

rinse out its rags in the stream

wash its little clothes!'

He looked after the child one day, two -

broke its hand, gouged out its eye;

soon after, on the third day

he killed the child with disease

flung its rags for the stream to bear off

and burnt its cradle with fire.

And Untamo considers:

'He is not cut out for this -

looking after a small child

rocking one with small fingers!

I don't know where to put him

what work to set him.

Shall I make him slash-and-burn?'

And he made him slash-and-burn.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

at that put this into words:

'I'll not be a man

till I get an axe in hand

much better to look upon

sweeter than I was before:

then I'll be a man worth five

a fellow wondrous as six.'

He went to the smith's workshop

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'O smith my little brother

forge me a hatchet

forge an axe fit for a man

iron right for a toiler!

I am off to slash-and-burn

to cut down a sturdy birch.'

The smith forges what he needs

produces an axe, and out

came an axe fit for a man

iron right for a toiler.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

then honed his axe: he

spends a day honing the axe

an evening making a haft.

He set off to slash-and-burn

into the high wilderness

up to the best timberland

to massive standing timber.

He struck a tree with the axe

he lunged with the even blade:

at a stroke good timbers go

and bad ones at half a stroke.

Furiously he felled five trees

by all accounts eight;

then he put this into words

he declared, spoke thus:

'To the Devil with this toil!

Let the Demon fell timbers!'

He bashed the top of a stump

he shouted out loud

he whistled, he shrilled

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Let the slash-and-burn be done

let the sturdy birch be cut

as far as my voice is heard

as far as the whistling rolls!

Let no sapling stretch

31:284-354

let no stem spring up

ever in this world

not in a month of Sundays

in Kalervo's son's clearing

on the excellent man's plot!

Should the earth take on a shoot

should a young crop rise

if a stem should come stemming

and a stalk should come stalking

let it not bring forth a blade

nor the stalk produce an ear!'

Untamo the lively man

went to look at that

clearing of Kalervo's son

the cutting of the new serf:

the clearing seemed no clearing

cut by a young man.

And Untamo considers:

'He is not cut out for this!

Good timber he has ruined

and felled the best timberland!

I don't know where to put him

what work to set him.

Shall I make him build fences?'

And he made him build fences.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

starts building a fence:

lofty firs from their places

he sets for fence poles

and whole spruces of the wild

he sticks in for stakes;

lashed them fast with withes

from the tallest of rowans;

he built a fence with no gap

knocked up one without a gate.

Then he put this into words

he declared, spoke thus:

'Unless as a bird

he can soar, flutter two wings

let nobody get over

the fence of Kalervo's son!'

Untamo chances

to come and look at

that fence of Kalervo's son

what the war-serf has cut down:

he saw that the fence had no

opening, no slit, no hole -

had been built from mother earth

pointed up into the clouds.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'He is not cut out for this!

He's built a fence with no opening

knocked up one without a gate

and he's raised it to the sky

lifted it into the clouds:

I cannot get over it

nor in through a hole!

I don't know where to put him

what work to set him.

Shall I put him to thresh rye?'

And he put him to thresh rye.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

was threshing rye now -

and he threshed the rye to chaff

the straw he reduced to bran.

Well, the master came along

went himself to look

at Kalervo's son's threshing

Kullervo's beating:

the rye is now chaff

and the straw was rustling bran!

31:355-32:32

Untamo rages:

'Nothing comes of this toiler!

Whatever work I set him

he stupidly spoils.

Shall I take him to Russia

or trade him in Karelia

to Ilmarinen the smith

to wield the smith's sledgehammer?'

Then he sold Kalervo's son

traded him in Karelia

to Ilmarinen the smith

the skilful craftsman.

What did the smith give for him?

The smith gave a lot for him -

two pans with holes in

three hooks snapped in half

five scythes quite worn out

six hoes past their prime

for a man of no account

for a serf who was worthless.

32. To Guard a Herd

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's son

yellow-haired, handsome

fair of shoe-upper

straight away in the smith's home

asked for work in the evening

the master for evening work

the mistress for morning work:

'Let the jobs here be named, let

a job be given a name

what is the work to be set

the toil made to do!'

The smith Ilmari's mistress

she is thinking there

what work to set the new serf

what toil the one bought:

she made the serf a herdsman

guard of the big herd.

That wicked mistress

the smith's grinning hag

baked a loaf for the herdsman

a thick roll she roasts:

below the oats and above the wheat

in between she works a stone.

She smeared the roll with melted butter

the crust she coated with fat

gave it for the serf's rations

a titbit for the herdsman

and she instructed the serf

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Don't eat this before the herd

has gone towards the forest!'

32:33-105

At that Ilmari's mistress

drove the herd out to pasture;

she says with this word

she spoke with this speech:

'I send my cows to the grove

the milk-givers to the glade

the wide-horns to the aspens

the crook-horns to the birches;

I set them to take

grease, to fetch tallow

from the wide glade-lands

from the broad grove-lands

from the tall birches

from the squat aspens

the golden spruces

the silver backwoods.

Look after them, O fair God

keep them, steadfast Creator

and keep them out of harm's way

guard them from all ills

lest they come to grief

get up to mischief!

As you looked in the cowshed

and in safekeeping watched them

so look where no cowshed is

care for them where none watches

that the herd may grow fair, that

the mistress's wealth may thrive

as a well-wisher would like

an ill-wisher would dislike!

'If my herdsmen are wretched

the herd-wenches very shy

make a willow a herdsman

an alder a cow-watcher

a rowan a keeper, a

bird cherry a bringer home

without the mistress searching

or other folk worrying!

If the willow will not herd

nor the rowan keep them well

nor the alder drive the cows

the bird cherry bring them home

put your better ones

set nature's daughters

to cherish my wealth

to watch all my herd

for you have many wenches

hundreds of order-takers

those who live beneath the sky

good nature-daughters.

'Summer-daughter, choice woman

South-daughter, dame of nature

Fir-daughter, O good mistress

Juniper-daughter, fair maid

Rowan-daughter, little wench

Birdcherry-daughter, Tapio's girl

Mielikki, forest daughter-in-law

Tellervo, Tapio's maid:

look after my herd

and cherish my wealth

all summer nicely

in leaf-time softly

when the leaf waves on the tree

the grass ripples on the ground!

Summer-daughter, choice woman

South-daughter, dame of nature:

cast off your fine hems

your apron spread out

as a hood for my herd, a

cover for my little ones

unblown by the angry wind

unrained on by angry rain;

guard my herd from ills

32:106-180

and keep them out of harm's way

from those shaking swamps

from those spilling springs

from those moving mires

from those round potholes

lest they come to grief

get up to mischief

a foot stumble in a swamp

slither in a mire

against God's wish, the

blessed one's desire!

Bring a trump from beyond, from

the pole of heaven yonder

bring a honey-trump from heaven

a mead-trump from mother earth;

blow that trump of yours

blast your famous one:

blow the mounds into blossom

the heath edges fair

the glade edges sweet

the grove edges soft, the swamp

edges to melted honey

the mire edges into wort

and then feed my herd

fodder my cattle

feed them honeyed food

give them honeyed drink;

feed them golden grass

a silver hay-tip

out of trickling mires

out of spilling springs

from roaring rapids

from rushing rivers

from the golden knolls

from the silver glades!

Form a golden well

on both sides of the herd-land

for the herd to drink

water from, quaff mead

until udders burst

and until teats ache

so that veins may come to throb

and rivers of milk to run

and brooks of milk to break out

and rapids of milk to foam

and milk-tubes to pour

milk-channels to stream

every time to give

every turn to ooze

above even the hateful

past the ill-wisher's fingers

without the milk going lost*

the herd-gift going to waste!

'Many they are and evil

who make milk go lost

and the herd-gift go to waste

what a cow brings go elsewhere;

few they are and good

who save milk from loss

their curds from the village grasp

and their fresh milk from elsewhere.

My mother did not

ask the village for advice

nor the next house for know-how;

no, she saved her milk from loss

and her curds from the grasper

and her fresh milk from elsewhere.

She let it come from beyond

arrive from further away -

let it come from Tuonela

the Dead Land, lost underground

come by night all on its own

and in the dark secretly

unheard by the wicked one

by the bad one unspotted

32:181-252

by the hateful one unchecked

by the envious unenvied.

Thus said my mother

and thus say I too:

Where has my cow-wealth lingered

which way has my milk vanished?

Has it been taken abroad

tethered in the village yards

in the parish whores' bosoms

under envious folk's arms, or

in woods has it got tangled

in forests has it perished

has it been spilt on grove-lands

has it vanished upon heaths?

But the milk shall not go lost

nor the cow-wealth go abroad

to the parish whores' bosoms

under envious folk's arms, nor

in woods will it get tangled

in forests will it perish

nor in groves will it be spilt

nor will it fall on the heath.

The milk is needed at home

all the time it is longed for:

at home the mistress waits, a

juniper pail in her hand.

'Summer-daughter, choice woman

South-daughter, dame of nature:

come now and feed my Muncher

and give my Guzzler a drink

make Nervy trickle

and make Fresh One drip

give milk to Sweetie

to Apple new curds

out of bright hay-tips

fair dewy grasses

sweet mothers of earth

honey-sweet hummocks

from turf thick with honey-plants

from land full of berry stalks

from flower-daughters of heather

husk-daughters of hay

curd-daughters of cloud

pole-daughters of heaven

bring milky drippers

forever bursting udders

for the nimble wife to milk

for the little wench to squirt!

Rise, maid, from a marsh

fine-hemmed from a mire

warm maid from a spring

clear-faced from the mud;

take some water from the spring

and sprinkle my herd with it

that the herd may grow fair, that

the mistress's wealth may thrive

before the mistress goes out

and the herd-wench checks -

the mistress who is worthless

the herd-wench who's very shy.

'Mielikki, forest mistress

broad-palmed herd-dame, set

the tallest of your wenches

and the best of your hirelings

to cherish my wealth

look after my herd

this great summertime

the Creator's warm summer

the God-granted one

given by the merciful!

'Tellervo, Tapio's maid

buxom forest girl

32:253-324

delicate-shirted, fine-hemmed

yellow-haired, handsome

you who guard the herd, you who

cherish the mistress's wealth

in delightful Forestland

in careful Tapiola:

guard the herd nicely

and cherish the wealth briskly;

guard them with fair hands

with comely fingers guide them

brush them to lynx fur

comb them to a fish's fin

to a mermaid's hair

a forest ewe's down;

come evening, darkening night

the dimming of dusks

bring my herd homeward

in front of the good mistress

a moving mire on their backs

a pool of milk at their flanks!

As the sun goes to the sheds

as the evening bird warbles

tell my herd yourself

say to my horned line:

"Home with you, crook-horns

milk-givers, towards the shed!

At home it is good for you to be

the ground is sweet for you to lie on;

the wilds are gloomy for you to walk

and the shore for you to trot.

For your homecoming

the wives are lighting a fire

on turf thick with honey-plants

on ground full of berry stalks."

'Nyyrikki, Tapio's son

blue-cloaked thicket boy:

stick tall spruces by the base

shock-headed pines by the top

for a bridge where there is dirt

for hardcore across bad lands

on unfrozen swamps and soils

upon bobbing ponds;

let a curve-horn walk

a cloven-hoof trot

and reach every smudge

unhurt and unharmed

without sinking in the swamp

or falling flat in the dirt!

'If the herd does not take care

does not come home for the night

Rowan-daughter, little wench

Juniper-daughter, fair maid

cut down a birch from a grove

take a lash from a thicket

use a rowan rod

a herd-whip of juniper

from the back of Tapio's stronghold

that side of Birdcherry Slope;

drive the herd towards the farm

where the sauna's being stoked

homeward the home herd

the forest herd into Forestland!

'Beastie, forest apple, bear,*

honey-pawed hunchback:

let us make a pact

settle our border dispute

for our lifetime, for our world

for our age, for all our days

that you'll not crush a hoof-shank

fell a milk-bearer

this great summertime

the Creator's warm summer!

32:325-397

When you hear a bell sound, or

the toot of a trump

crash down upon a hummock

on the turf to fall asleep

thrust your ears into the grass

press your head on the hummock

or make for the wilds

get into a mossy hut

go to other hills

to other mounds move

so that no cowbell is heard

nor yet a herdsman's chatter!

'My Beastie, my precious one

honey-paw, my fair darling:

I don't forbid you to turn

nor ban you from wandering;

I forbid your tongue to touch

your ugly mouth to attack

to scatter with your

teeth, cuff with your paws.

Swerve round the herd-lands

hide from the curd-heaths

turn from the tinkle of bells

flee the herdsman's voice!

When the herd is on the heath

slink off to a swamp

when the herd has slithered on a swamp

then make for the wilds

when the herd goes up a hill

you step down the hill

when the herd goes down a hill

go over the hill

when 'tis stepping in a glade

stroll in a thicket

when it strolls in a thicket

you step in a glade!

Go as a golden cuckoo

as a silver dove

shift aside as a whitefish

withdraw as a fish

roll as a bundle of wool

move as a sheaf of flax, hide

your claws in your hair

your teeth in your gums

lest the livestock scare

the little wealth shy;

give the cattle peace

the hoof-shanks quiet

let the herd wander nicely

neatly trot about

across swamps, across lands, through

the heaths of the wilds

so that you never touch them

nor ever get rough with them!

Remember your oath of old

there at Tuonela's river

at steep Claw Rapid

before the Creator's knees:

leave was given you

three times in summer to go

within earshot of a bell

on lands where cowbells tinkle

but it was not granted you

nor was leave given you to

start any rough stuff

get up to mischief.

'If you grow furious

your teeth desirous

fling your fury into a thicket

your evil desires into the firs;

strike some rotten wood

fell some blocks of birch

turn logs in the water round

32:398-468

grub among berry-hummocks!

When you are in need of food

and you have a mind to eat

eat mushrooms from the forest

break up some ants' nests

roots of red angelica

Forestland's honey-titbits

but not my fodder grasses

not the hay I depend on!

Forestland's vat of honey

is fizzing as it ferments

on a golden knoll

on a silver hill:

there is food for the greedy

drink for the man who guzzles -

eating won't use up the food

nor will drinking shrink the drink.

'We'll make a pact for ever

peace unravel for ever

so that we may live kindly

all summer nicely:

we'll have the lands in common

and the produce separate.

But if you should want to fight

to live on a war footing

let us fight in the winter

in the snow-time let us scrap;

come summer and swamp-melting

when the pools warm up

don't ever come here, within

earshot of the darling herd!

If you do come to these lands

chance on these backwoods

here there is always shooting;

when no shooters are at home

we have clever wives

mistresses ever to hand

who will spoil your road

ruin your journey

so that you'll never touch them

nor ever get rough with them

against God's will, the

blessed one's pleasure.

'O Old Man, chief god

when you hear himself coming

change my little cows and thump

my herd into something else

my own into rocks

my fair darlings into stumps

as the horror treads the earth

as the hulk wanders!

'If I were a Beast and went

about as a honey-paw

I would not always

be under hags' feet like that

for there is land elsewhere too

a pen further away too

for an idle man to run

a free man to dash about

to walk till your paw-tips split

and your calf-flesh comes away

inside blue backwoods, under

the arm of the famous wilds.

The pine-heath's for your walking

the sand for your clinking step

the road's made for your going

the seashore for your running

to the furthest North

the plains of Lapland: 'twill be

lucky for you to be there

sweet for you to tarry there

32:469-542

to walk shoeless in summer

in autumn sockless

on the largest open swamps

on the wide slime-lands.

If you'll not go there at all

nor find the right way

take a path for your running

and a track for your tripping

there to Tuonela's backwoods

or to the grave's heath!

There's a swamp there to trot on

heather to wade through;

there is Brightie, there Flighty

there other yearlings

in iron traces

upon ten tethers;

there even the lean grow fat

even the bones put on flesh.

'Sweeten, grove and soften, wilds

and be tender, blue backwoods:

give the cattle peace

the hoof-shanks quiet

this great summertime

the Lord's hot summer!

Longneck, forest king

the forest's greybeard keeper:

carry off your dogs

and clear away your curs! Stick

a mushroom in one nostril

in the other an apple

so no scent is sniffed

the herd-smell smelt out;

bind their eyes with silk

and tie their ears with a tie

so they'll not hear them moving

nor see them walking!

'Should not enough come of that

should he not yet take good care

call away your son

and ban your bastard:

see him off from these backwoods

from these shores thrash him

far from these narrow herd-lands

from these wide borders;

hide your dogs in a hollow

and lash your curs fast

to golden tethers

to thongs of silver

lest they do damage

get up to mischief!

'Should not enough come of that

should he not yet be wary

Old Man, golden king

silver governor

hear my golden words

and my sweet phrases!

Press a rowan collar down

around his snub nose:

if the rowan will not hold

have one cast out of copper;

if the copper is not firm

make a collar of iron;

but if he snaps the iron

if he still goes wrong

wedge a golden cowlstaff from

jawbone to jawbone

jam the ends in hard

fix them really fast

so the bad jaws cannot move

nor the few teeth part, unless

they are shattered with iron

wrenched away with steel

or bloodied with knives

or jerked with an axe!'

32:543-33:32

Then Ilmari's mistress, that

careful wife of the craftsman

sent the cows out from the byre

let the herd out to pasture

put the herdsman in the rear

and the serf to drive the cows.

33. The Broken Knife

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

took provisions in a bag

drove the cows along the swamp

himself clambered on the heath

uttered a word as he strolled

and told as he went:

'Woe is me, a luckless boy

woe, a boy down on his luck!

Now I have come to something

come to follow idle ways:

I'm herdsman to an ox-tail

a keeper of calves

trampler upon every swamp

traveller on evil land!'

He sat down on a hummock

stopped on a sunny hillside

uttered there as he told tales

and as he sang thus set forth:

'Shine, sunlight of God

wheel of the Lord, blaze

on the guard of the smith's herd

upon the luckless herdsman -

not on Ilmari's cabins

on the mistress not at all!

The mistress lives well:

she slices up buns

stuffs herself with pies

spreads butter on them;

the hapless herdsman

gnaws dry bread, dry crust

grooves out an oat cake

cuts a loaf of grits

33:33-104

holds out one of straw

crunches pinebark bread

with a cone of birchbark scoops

water off a wet hummock.

Go, sun, roll, precious

sink down, time of God;

move, sun, towards the spruces

roll, precious, towards the brush

flee towards the junipers

fly level with the alders:

let the herdsman go home, to

scrape the butter dish

rip unleavened bread

dig into biscuits!'

Meanwhile Ilmari's mistress

as the herdsman was chanting

and Kullervo cuckooing

had now scraped her butter dish

ripped her own unleavened bread

dug into her own biscuits;

made watery gruel, cold

cabbage soup for Kullervo

whose fat the cur had eaten

Blackie breakfasted on, Spot

eaten as much as he liked

Hoary gulped what he wanted.

A bird sang out from a grove

a little bird from a bush:

"Tis time for the serf to eat

for the fatherless to sup.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

looked up at the long sunlight

and he put this into words:

'Now 'tis time to take a meal

time to start on food

to seek out the provisions.'

And he drove his cows to rest

the herd to lie on the heath;

himself sat on a hummock

upon a green sward.

He slipped his pack off his back

took the loaf out of his pack

looks at it, turns it over;

then he put this into words:

'Many rolls are fair on top

very smooth of crust

but have husks within

chaff beneath the crust.'

He drew his knife from the sheath

to cut up the loaf:

the knife skidded on the stone

stubbed against the piece of rock

and the blade sheered off the knife

snapped off the dagger.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

looks at his dear knife

and fell to weeping;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'One knife was brethren

one iron was love -

goods my father got

my parent laid up

and I broke it on a stone

scrunched it on a piece of rock

on the bad mistress's loaf

baked by the evil woman!

How shall I repay the wife's laughter

wife's laughter and wench's taunts

the wicked hag's provisions

what the evil whore has baked?'

A crow cawed out of the scrub

a crow cawed, a raven croaked:

33:105-176

'O wretched gold-buckled one

matchless son of Kalervo

why are you in bad spirits

with a gloomy heart?

Take a lash from the thicket

a birch out of the wild dell

drive the dung-shanks to a swamp

in the ooze scatter the cows -

half for the great wolves and half

for the bruins of the wild;

round up the wolves, all

the bears together;

turn the wolves into Tiny

knock the bears into Whiteback

drive them as a herd homeward

as brindled ones to the farm!

Thus you will repay the wife's laughter

the evil woman's insults.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

put this into words:

'Hold on, hold on, demon's bitch!

If I weep my father's knife

you too will weep yet -

you'll weep your milch cows.'

He took a lash out of the thicket

a herd-whip of juniper;

he sank the cows in a swamp

in a windfall he smashed the oxen -

half for the wolves to eat, half

for the bruins of the wild;

the wolves he spelt into cows

made the bears into a herd

turned this one into Tiny

knocked that one into Whiteback.

The sun veered south-west

swung round half way to evening

dropped level with the spruces

flew to the cows' milking-time.

That poor wretch of a herdsman

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

drove the bruins home

the herd of wolves to the farm

and then he advised his bears

to his wolves he spoke by mouth:

'Rip the mistress's

thigh, bite half her calf

when she comes to look

and crouches to milk!'

He made a pipe from cow-bones

from an ox-horn a hooter

a trump from Birdcherry's leg

a whistle from Brightie's hock

and he peeped upon his pipe

he tooted upon his trump

three times upon the home hill

six times at the lanes' entrance.

That mistress of Ilmari

the smith's hag, the fine woman

long lolls without milk

sprawls without summer butter.

She heard playing from the swamp

ringing from the heath;

she says with this word

she spoke with this speech:

'Be praised, God: a trump

sounds, the herd comes! But

where did the serf get a horn

and the toiler find a trump

that he comes playing

he trumpets tooting

blowing through my ears

going through my head?'

33:177-245

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'From the swamp the serf has got a horn

brought a trump out of the slime.

Now your herd is in the lane

the cows at the byre-field's end:

come and light the smudge

go and milk the cows!'

Ilmari's mistress

told the old mother to milk:

'Just go, old mother, and milk

deal with the cattle! -

for I cannot spare the time

from kneading the dough.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Now, good mistresses

and skilful housewives always

themselves used to milk the cows

themselves deal with the cattle.'

At that Ilmari's mistress

herself came and lit the smudge

and then comes to the milking.

She glanced at her herd

she eyed her livestock;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'It is a fine-looking herd

the livestock smooth-haired

all with the coat of a lynx

the down of a forest ewe

considerable udders

teats full to bursting.'

She stooped to milk, set about

making a trickle;

she tugged once, then twice

soon a third time tried:

a wolf pounces upon her

a bear bears down upon her.

The wolf rips her face to shreds

the bear yanked her foot sinews

it bit half her calf

broke her heel off her leg bone.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

thus avenged the wench's taunts

wench's taunts, woman's laughter

paid the evil wife's wages.

But Ilmari's proud mistress

she burst into tears;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Poor herder, you have done wrong:

you have driven bruins home

wolves to the great yards!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

this one answered that:

'I, poor herdsman, have done wrong

but you, poor mistress, have not done right!

You baked a stone loaf

you roasted a roll of rock:

I took my knife to the stone

and upon the rock

scrunched my matchless father's knife

my kinsfolk's dagger!'

And Ilmari's mistress said:

'O you herder, dear herder

reverse your meaning

speak your speech backwards:

free me from the wolf's snappers

and from the bear's claw save me!

I'll make you look good with shirts

33:246-296

with breeches make you handsome

I'll feed you butter and buns

I'll give you fresh milk to drink -

feed you one year without toil

two without having to work.

If you will not set me free

nor straight away unloose me

I shall soon fall dead

and change into mould.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'If you are dying, then die

vanish if you're vanishing!

The earth has room for those gone

and the grave for those vanished

for the mightiest to lie

and for the largest to rest.'

But Ilmari's mistress said:

'O Old Man, chief god

make ready your great crossbow

look out your best bow

fit a copper bolt

upon that fiery crossbow;

send forth the fiery arrow

shoot the copper bolt

shoot through his armpits

cleave his shoulder flesh

fell that son of Kalervo

and shoot the wretch dead

with the arrow of steel tip

with the copper bolt!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

put this into words:

'O Old Man, chief god

do not shoot at me:

shoot at Ilmari's mistress

lose the mean woman

without her shifting her place

without moving anywhere!'

Then Ilmari's mistress, that

wife of the careful craftsman

soon rolled over dead

fell to be pan-soot

in her own cabin yard, in

her narrow farmyards.

That was how the young wife went*

and with her the fair mistress

who had been long watched for, six

years long asked after, to be

Ilmari's joy for ever

and the famous smith's honour.

34. Father and Mother

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

yellow-haired, handsome

fair of shoe-upper

made his getaway

from the smith Ilmarinen

before the master could get

wind of his wife's death

could sink into bad spirits

and could pick a fight.

With music he left the smith

rejoicing left Ilma's lands

trilling on the heath

shrilling upon the burnt ground:

the swamp jarred and the land quaked

the heath echoed back

Kullervo's music

the wicked one's merriment.

'Twas heard in the smith's workshop:

the smith stopped in the workshop

went to the lane to listen

to the yard to see what was

the music in the backwoods

the trilling upon the heath.

Now he saw the truth

without lying or fooling:

saw a woman gone to sleep

his fair one fallen -

fallen in the yard

keeled over upon the lea.

At that the smith stopped

with a gloomy heart;

he settled down for the night

weeping, for long shedding tears

his mood no better than tar

his heart no whiter than coal.

As for Kullervo, he walked

stepped forward somewhere

all day through hard wilds

heaths of demon's timber-trees.

Come evening, darkening night

he halted on a hummock;

on it sits the fatherless

the unloved one considers:

'What could have created me

and who could have shaped this wretch

to roam night and day

all my life under the sky?

Homeward others go

to their dwellings they travel:

I have my home in the wilds

on the heath my farm

out in the wind my fireplace

in the rain my sauna steam.

Do not, O good God

do not ever in this world

create an unlucky child

nor one quite unloved

fatherless under the sky

motherless - that least of all -

as you created me, God

shaped wretched me, created

like one of a flock of gulls

like a sea-mew on a reef!

Day comes to swallows

whitens for sparrows

joy for the birds of the air;

but never for me

does day come in a lifetime

34:70-144

nor joy ever in this world!

I do not know who made me

nor who brought me here: could a

goldeneye have made me on a road

a duck formed me on a swamp

a teal shaped me on a shore

a smew in a rock crevice?

Small I was left fatherless

lowly without my mamma:

father died and mother died

the rest of my great kin died -

left me shoes of ice

forgot with stockings of slush

left on icy tracks

on steps where snow whirls

to sink into every swamp

fall flat in the dirt ...

But I shall not in this world

I shall not yet come to be

a causeway on swamps

boards on dirty places, nor

shall I sink into a swamp

while I bear two hands

line up ten fingers

raise ten fingernails.'

Now it came into his mind

the thought lodged in his brain, to

go to Untamo's village

and avenge his father's knocks

father's knocks and mamma's tears

his own ill-treatment;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Wait, wait, Untamo

hold on, my kin's doom:

when I come for war, won't I

bring the cabins to cinders

and the farmyards to firebrands!'

He came upon a hag, a

blue-cloaked thicket-dame

and she put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'Where are you bound, Kullervo

where wading, Kalervo's son?'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'It has come into my mind

the thought has lodged in my brain

to set out somewhere else, to

go to Untamo's village

avenge my kin's doom

father's knocks and mamma's tears

burn the cabins to cinders

reduce them to dust.'

The hag put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'But your kin has not been slain

Kalervo's not fallen yet.

You have a father alive

a mamma on earth and well.'

'O my dear gammer!

Say, my dear gammer:

where is my father

where the fair one who bore me?'

'There is your father

there the fair one who bore you -

upon Lapland's wide border

at the edge of a fish-pool.'

'O my dear gammer!

Say, my dear gammer:

how shall I get there

which way can I go?'

"Tis good for you to get there

though a stranger, to make it

to walk a nook of the wilds

to run on a riverbank:

34:145-216

you will step one day, then two

soon you'll step a third as well.

You will head north-west

and you'll come upon a slope:

step below the slope

walk to the left of the slope.

Then you'll come to a river

over on your right:

walk that side of the river

past the foam of three rapids.

You'll come to a headland's tip

reach the end of a long cape;

there's a cabin on the headland's tip

a fish-hut at the cape's end:

that's where father is living

there the fair one who bore you

there your sisters are as well -

the two fair daughters.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

then stepped on his way:

he stepped one day and then two

soon he stepped a third as well.

He headed north-west

and he came upon the slope:

he stepped below it

skirted the slope on the left.

He reaches the river then:

he steps by the riverside

follows the river leftward;

he passed by the three rapids

came to the headland's tip, reached

the end of the long headland;

the cabin was on the headland's tip

the fish-hut at the cape's end.

He entered the cabin then

but he is not known indoors:

'Where is the foreigner from

where is the wanderer's home?'

'Don't you know your son

not know your own child -

the one Untamo's fellows

took off home with them when he

was big as his father's span

tall as his mother's distaff?'

The mother hastened to say

the old woman to declare:

'Ah, my luckless boy

ah, wretched gold-buckled one!

So with eyes alive

you are travelling these lands

when I have been weeping you

dead and long since lost!

Two sons I had once

and two fair daughters:

of them I, hapless

lost the two eldest -

lost the boy in a great war

the girl I do not know where.

My boy has come back

but the girl won't come at all.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

he hastened to ask:

'Where was your girl lost

which way did my sister go?'

The mother put this in words

she declared, spoke thus:

'There my girl was lost

there your sister went - set out

for berries in the forest

raspberries under the slope;

that is where the hen was lost

the bird died untimely, went

34:217-35:30

to a doom without a word

with a name unknown.

Who mourned for the girl?

Who else if not her mother!

Mother was the first to search

mother searched and mother missed.

I set out, luckless mother

in search of my girl;

ran the wilds as a bruin

as an otter roamed the woods.

I searched one day and then two

soon I searched a third as well;

at the end of the third day

after a week at the most

I climbed a high hill

up a lofty peak.

There I shouted for my girl

pined for the one lost:

"Where are you, my little girl?

Come home now, my girl!"

Thus I shouted for my girl

longed for the one lost

but the slopes talked back

and the heaths echoed:

"Don't shout for your girl

don't shout or yell out!

She'll never come in this world

not return in her lifetime

to her one-time mother's crofts

to her old father's moorings."'

35. Brother and Sister

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

came at that to live

watched by his parents

but did not come to grasp things

have a man's understanding

for he'd been crookedly reared

stupidly lulled as a child

with someone crooked rearing

with someone stupid lulling.

The boy sets to work

puts himself to toil

and he waded out to fish

row out the big seine;

there he speaks like this

thinks with the oar in his hand:

'Shall I pull with all my strength

and row as hard as I can

or pull as the tools allow

row as much as is needed?'

The cox declared from the stern

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'If you pull with all your strength

and row as hard as you can

you'll not pull the craft apart

nor wreck the rowlocks.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

hauled with all his strength

and rowed as hard as he could:

he rowed the wooden rowlocks apart

35:31-100

snapped the ribs of juniper

wrecked the aspen boat.

Kalervo came, took a look

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'You'll never make a rower!

You've rowed the wooden rowlocks apart

snapped the ribs of juniper

and wrecked the whole boat!

Go fish-beating with the seine:

perhaps you'll be a better beater.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

went fish-beating with the seine;

there while beating he

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Shall I beat with might and main

lay it on as a man can

or lay as the tools allow

beat as much as is needed?'

The dragger uttered his word:

'What use is a beater who

does not beat with might and main

lay it on as a man can!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

battered then with might and main

laid it on as a man can:

the water he stirred to gruel

beat the seine to tow

and the fish he mashed to scum.

Kalervo came, took a look

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'You'll never make a beater!

You've beaten the seine to tow

to chaff you've pounded the floats

the head ropes you've chopped to bits!

Go and take in the taxes

and pay in the rents: perhaps

you'll be better travelling

more skilful on a journey.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

yellow-haired, handsome

fair of shoe-upper

went to take in the taxes

to pay in the tithes.

When the dues were taken in

and the tithes paid in

in his sledge he flings himself

settles in his sleigh

and started for home

travelling to his own lands.

He rumbles along

paces his journey

upon those heaths of Väinö

in the glades tilled long before

and he meets a maid

a golden-haired one skiing

upon those heaths of Väinö

in the glades tilled long before.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

there now he holds in;

began chatting up the maid

chatting up, tempting:

'Get up, maid, into my sleigh

lie back on my furs!'

But the maid says from her skis

she gives tongue from her skiing:

'May doom come into your sleigh

disease lie back on your furs!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

35:101-170

struck the courser with the lash

whacked it with the beaded belt:

courser ran and journey sped

the road rolled, the sledge clattered.

He rumbles along

paces his journey

on the clear high seas

upon the open expanse

and he meets a maid

a leather-shod one wading

on the clear high seas

upon the open expanse.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

he holds in his horse

he adjusts his mouth

he orders his words:

'Come into my sleigh, fine one

the land's choice, on my travels!'

But the maid says back

the leather-shod raps:

'Tuoni come into your sleigh

and Death upon your travels!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

struck the courser with the lash

whacked it with the beaded belt:

courser ran and journey sped

the sledge rolled, the road shortened.

He rumbles along

paces his journey

upon those heaths of the North

the broad borders of Lapland

and he meets a maid

a tin-breasted one strolling

upon those heaths of the North

the broad borders of Lapland.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

he reins in his horse

he adjusts his mouth

he orders his words:

'Step, maiden, into my sledge

dear, under my quilt

to eat some of my apples

to nibble some nuts!'

But the maid says back

and the tin-breast snaps:

'I spit, wretch, upon your sled

tramp, upon your sleigh!

'Tis chilly under the quilt

dismal in the sleigh.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

grabbed the maid into his sleigh

and snatched her into his sledge

dumped her on his furs

and rolled her under the quilt.

There the maid says this

the tin-breast quarrels:

'Let me get out, give

a child her freedom

from heeding a worthless one

from serving an evil one

or I'll kick the bottom through

I'll lay low your planks

your sleigh to splinters

into bits the toboggan!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

opened a chest full of wealth

slammed the bright lid back

35:171-244

and showed off his silver coins

spread out strips of cloth

gold-topped stockings, his

belts trimmed with silver:

the cloth lured the maid

the wealth changed the bride

the silver overwhelms her

and the gold takes hold.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

there flattered the maid

he took hold, tickled

one hand on the stallion's reins

the other on the maid's tits:

there he sported with the maid

touched up the tin-breast

under the copper-bright cloak

on top of the speckled fur.

Now God gave morning

God brought the next day

and the maid put into words

she asked and she talked:

'What kin are you of

bold one, of what stock?

You are surely of great kin

and of grand background.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I'm of no great kin

neither great nor small

but only middling -

a mean son of Kalervo

a boy with no wits, a waif

a poor child, a stray.*

But tell me of your own kin

of your own bold stock -

whether you are of great kin

and of grand background!'

And the maid indeed answers

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I'm of no great kin

neither great nor small

but only middling -

mean daughter of Kalervo

a girl with nothing, a waif

a poor child, a stray.

Once when I was a child in

my kindly mother's dwellings

I went for berries to the forest

raspberries under the slope;

picked strawberries off the ground

raspberries under the slope

picked by day, by night rested.

I picked one day, I picked two

till by the third day

I did not know the way home:

the road led into forest

the track took me to backwoods.

There I sat and wept

I wept one day and then two

till on the third day

I climbed a high hill

up a lofty peak:

there I shouted and yelled out.

The backwoods talked back

and the heaths echoed:

"Do not shout, mad girl

mindless one, don't make a din!

It won't be heard anyway

the shout won't be heard at home."

After three days, four

five, six at the most

I prepared to die

I gave myself up for lost.

35:245-317

I did not die even so

cheerless one, I was not lost!

Had I died, poor wretch

and been broken off, mean one

then only two years later

but three summers on

I'd have been waving as grass

bobbing as a flowery head

on the land a good berry

a red cowberry

without hearing these horrors

learning these sorrows.'

She just managed to say this

and to tell it once: at once

she tumbled out of the sledge

then ran into a river

into a rapid's steep foam

into a smoking whirlpool.

There she brought about her doom

there she met her death

found refuge in Tuonela

mercy among the billows.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

dashed out of his sleigh

began to weep greatly, to

lament grievously:

'Woe, luckless me, for my days

and woe, wretch, for my horrors

that I have used my sister

and spoilt her my mother bore!

Woe my father, my mother

woe, woe my honoured parents!

What did you create me for

and why carry this mean one?

I would have been better off

had I not been born, not grown

not been brought into the world

not had to come to this earth;

doom did not deal straight

disease did not act aright

when it did not kill me, not

lose me as a two-night-old.'

With a knife he cut his hames

with iron split his traces

leapt upon the good one's back

upon the good blaze-brow's flanks

rides across a bit of land

a tiny bit he covers

and comes to his father's yards

his own papa's ground.

Mother comes into the yard:

'O my mother who bore me!

Had you, my hapless mother

as I was being given birth

but filled the sauna with smoke

shot the sauna bolt

and smothered me in the smoke

lost me as a two-night-old

brought me in burlap to the water

sunk me in the bed curtain

cast the cot into the fire

thrust the rocker into the fireplace!

Had the village asked:

"Where has the cabin's cot gone

why is the sauna bolted?" -

you would have answered:

"The cot I've burnt in the fire

burnt the rocker in the fireplace flame;

in the sauna I have been

making shoots, sweetening malt."'

The mother hastened to ask

and his parent to inquire:

'What is the matter, my boy

35:318-372

what horror is in the wind?

'Tis as though you came from Tuonela

and travelled from the Dead Land!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Horrors have been in the wind

rascally things have happened:

I have used my own sister

and spoilt her my mother bore!

I came from taking in the taxes

paying in the rents

when I met a maid.

I sported with her:

she was my little sister

my own mother's child!

She has brought about her doom

and has met her death

within a rapid's steep foam

within a smoking whirlpool.

As for me, I don't know now

cannot guess nor grasp at all

where to bring about my doom

and where, wretch, to cause my death -

in the mouth of howling wolf

in growling bear's jaws

or the belly of a whale

or a sea-pike's teeth?'

Mother put this into words:

'Do not go, my boy

to the mouth of howling wolf

to growling bear's jaws

nor the belly of a whale

nor a terrible pike's teeth!

There's lots of room in Finland

and within murky Savo*

for man to hide from his crimes

to feel shame for evil deeds

to hide for five years, for six

for nine years in all

till time brings mercy

and the years ease care.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I'll not go into hiding

this evil one will not flee!

I will go before doom's face

to the doors of the grave's farm

to the great places of war

to the killing-grounds of men:

Untamo is still upright

the mean man is still unfelled

still unavenged father's knocks

mamma's tears still unpaid for -

not to think of other woes

my own well-treatment.'*

36. The Cowbone Whistle

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

then fits himself for battle

gets ready for the war-path -

for one moment honed his sword

for the next sharpened the spear.

Mother put this into words:

'Don't, my luckless boy

get into a great war, don't

go to a sword-clash! He who

gets into war without cause

into a fight on purpose

in war will be slain

and killed in the fight:

by swords he will be dispatched

by his brands he will be felled.

You'll go to war on a goat

to fight on a nanny-goat;

soon the goat will be beaten

the nanny felled in the dirt

and you'll come home on a dog

on a frog you'll reach the yard.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I'll not then sink in a swamp

nor fall on the heath

in the ravens' homes

on the crows' acres, when I

sink down in places of war

drop on battlefields.

It is sweet to die in war

fair to die in a sword-clash!

War is a pleasant disease:

a boy comes off suddenly

goes off without suffering

falls down without growing thin.'

Mother put this into words:

'When you die in war

what will be left your father

to keep him in his old age?'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Let him die on the midden

let him fall in the farmyard!'

'What will be left your mamma

to keep her in her old age?'

'Let her die with an armful

of straw, and choke in the byre!'

'What will be left your brother

to keep him in days to come?'

'In the forest let him be

dispatched, on the acre drop!'

'What will be left your sister

to keep her in days to come?'

'On the well-path let her fall

on the wash-place path sink down!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

left home straight away;

he says a word to father:

'Fare you well, my good father!

Will you weep for me

when you hear that I am dead

lost to the people

sunk down from the kin?'

Father put this into words:

'I'll not weep for you

if I hear that you are dead:

36:68-132

another son will be had

a much better son

a lot cleverer.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'And I shall not weep for you

should I hear that you are dead:

I'll get a papa like this -

a mouth from clay, head from rock

eyes out of swamp cranberries

a beard out of dry grasses

legs out of goat willow forks

other flesh from rotten wood.'

He spoke then to his brother:

'Farewell, my little brother!

Will you weep for me

when you hear that I am dead

lost to the people

sunk down from the kin?'

Brother put this into words:

'I'll not weep for you

if I hear that you are dead:

another brother will be

got, a much better brother

one twice as handsome.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'And I shall not weep for you

should I hear that you are dead:

I'll get a brother like this -

a head from rock, mouth from clay

eyes out of swamp cranberries

hair from dry grasses

legs out of goat willow forks

other flesh from rotten wood.'

He said then to his sister:

'Farewell, my little sister!

Will you weep for me

when you hear that I am dead

lost to the people

sunk down from the kin?'

Sister put this into words:

'I'll not weep for you

if I hear that you are dead:

another brother will be

got, a much better brother

a lot cleverer.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'And I shall not weep for you

should I hear that you are dead:

I'll get a sister like this -

a head from rock, mouth from clay

eyes out of swamp cranberries

hair from dry grasses

ears out of pond lily flowers

a body from a maple sapling.'

He said then to his mother:

'My dear mother, my darling

fair one who bore me

precious one who carried me!

Will you weep for me

when you hear that I am dead

lost to the people

sunk down from the kin?'

36:133-202

Mother put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'You can't grasp how a mother

feels, nor guess a mother's heart.

Yes, I'll weep for you

when I hear that you are dead

dwindled from the folk

sunk down from the kin:

I'll weep our cabin to floods

the floorboards to waves

crouching down in all the lanes

stooping in the byres;

snows I'll weep to sheets of ice

ice sheets to soft soils

soft soils till they bloom

and blooms till they fade.

What I dare not weep

cannot cry woe for

weep among people, I'll weep

in the sauna secretly -

the loft to running waters

and the sauna planks to waves.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

went to war making music

to a fight making merry:

he played on swamp, played on land

echoed on the heath

blared among the grass

skirled among the hay.

A message rolled after him

and news reached his ears:

'Your father at home has died

your honoured parent has dropped

so go and see to

the burial of the dead one!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

indeed he answered:

'If he is dead, let him die!

We have a gelding at home:

with it let him be taken

earthward, covered in the grave!'

He played as he trod the swamp

shrilled on the burnt ground.

A message rolled after him

and news reached his ears:

'Your brother at home has died

your parent's child has dropped down

so go and see to

the burial of the dead one!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

indeed he answered:

'If he is dead, let him die!

There's a stallion there:

with it let him be taken

earthward, covered in the grave!'

He played as he walked the swamp

he trilled among the spruces.

A message rolled after him

and news reached his ears:

'Your sister at home has died

your parent's child has dropped down

so go and see to

the burial of the dead one!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

indeed he answered:

'If she is dead, let her die!

We've a mare at home:

with it let her be taken

earthward, covered in the grave!'

36:203-275

Squealing through the grass he stepped

pealing through the hay.

A message rolled after him

and news reached his ears:

'Your kindly mother has died

your sweet mamma has fallen

so go and see to

her burial by the parish!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Woe is me, a luckless boy

that my mother has died, my

curtain-maker has wearied

dropped down my cloak-adorner

spinner of long thread

drawer of the big distaff;

nor was I near at her end

at hand when she breathed her last!

Could she have died of a chill

or else for want of bread? Let

the dead one be washed at home

in water with German soap

and let her be wound in silk

and put in linen

and then let her be taken

earthward, covered in the grave -

taken with laments

and let down with song!

I cannot yet make it home:

Unto is not yet repaid

the mean man not felled

the wicked man not destroyed.'

With music he went to war

rejoicing to Unto-land;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'O Old Man, chief god

if you'd get me now a sword

the fairest brand too

that would hold for a whole crowd

see off a hundred!'

Well, he got a sword he liked

the best brand of all:

with it he felled all the folk

and destroyed Untamo's crowd.

The cabins he burnt to ash

reduced them to dust;

the stones he left on the hearths

a tall rowan in the yards.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

now turned from there and went home

to his late father's cabins

his parent's acres: empty

the cabin at his coming

deserted when he opened;

nobody embraces him

or offers a hand.

He put his hand to the fire:

embers were cold in the fire.

By that he knew when he came:

his mother is not alive.

He stuck his hand on the hearth:

the stones were cold on the hearth.

By that he knew when he came:

his father is not alive.

He cast his eyes to the floor

and the floor is all unswept.

By that he knew when he came:

his sister is not alive.

He strolled to the home-waters:

no boat was at the mooring.

By that he knew when he came:

his brother is not alive.

At that he burst into tears;

36:276-346

he wept one day, he wept two

and he put this into words:

'Alas, my kindly mother!

What did you leave here for me

when you lived upon this earth?

But you don't hear me, mother

though I'm sobbing on your eyes

moaning on your brows

talking on your scalp!'

The mother woke from the grave

reminds from under the mould:

'Well, I've left Blackie the dog

so that you can go hunting:

take your dog with you

go hunting yonder

up into the wilds

to where the forest girls live

the yard of the blue wenches

to the pine stronghold's edges

to seek provisions

and to beg for game!'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

took his dog with him

trudged off up the road

up into the wilds

and he went a little way

stepped a tiny bit of road

and he came to that islet

he happened upon the place

where he had ravished the wench

and spoilt her his mother bore:

there the fair turf was weeping

the dearest glade complaining

the young grasses were grieving

the heather flowers crying for

that ravishing of the wench

spoiling of the mother-borne

and no young grass sprang

no heather flower grew

came up in the place

on that evil spot

where he had ravished the wench

and spoilt her his mother bore.

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

snatched up the sharp sword

looks at it, turns it over

asks it, questions it;

he asked his sword what it liked:

did it have a mind

to eat guilty flesh

to drink blood that was to blame?

The sword followed the man's drift

it guessed the fellow's chatter

and answered with this word: 'Why

should I not eat what I like

not eat guilty flesh

not drink blood that is to blame?

I'll eat even guiltless flesh

I'll drink even blameless blood.'

Kullervo, Kalervo's son

the blue-stockinged gaffer's child

pushed the hilt into the field

pressed the butt into the heath

turned the point towards his breast

rammed himself upon the point

and on it he brought about

his doom, met his death.

And that was the young man's doom

the Kullervo fellow's death -

the end for the fellow, death

for the ill-fated.

36:347-37:32

Then the old Väinämöinen

when he heard that he was dead

Kullervo was lost

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Do not, folk of the future

bring up a child crookedly

with someone stupid lulling

a stranger sending to sleep!

A child brought up crookedly

or a son lulled stupidly

won't come to grasp things

have a man's understanding

though he should live to be old

or should grow strong in body.'

37. The Golden Bride

Smith Ilmarinen

wept his wife evenings on end

nights he wept without sleeping

days without eating

mornings betimes he complained

and morrows he sighed

that the young woman was dead

the fair covered in the grave

nor in his hand did

the copper hammer shaft turn

no clatter from the workshop

came though one month passed.

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'I, luckless boy, do not know

how to be, which way to live.

I sit all night or I lie

there's much night, the hour heavy

many troubles, might is low.

Full of longing my evenings

low-spirited my mornings

only staler in the night

sadder on waking.

Not for evenings the longing

low spirits for my mornings

nor grief for my other times:

for my lovely the longing

the low spirits for my dear

the grief for my black-browed one.

Now these days only

often in my gloom

in dreams at midnight

my fist gropes empty

37:33-104

my hand strokes a lie

along both my loins.'

The smith lives without a wife

without a mate he grows old.

He wept two, three months

till in the fourth month

he picked gold coins from the sea

some silver coins from the waves;

he gathered a stack of wood

thirty sledges full;

his wood he burnt to embers

pushed the embers in the forge.

Of those gold coins of his he

took, of his silver he chose

an autumn ewe's worth

worth a winter hare

thrust the gold into the heat

pushed in the forge the silver

set the serfs puffing

the hirelings pressing:

the serfs puffed and flapped

and the hirelings pressed away

with no mittens on their hands

with no hoods over their heads;

as for smith Ilmarinen

he stokes up the forge

tried for a golden figure

for a silver bride.

But the serfs do not puff well

neither do the hirelings press

so the smith Ilmarinen

himself set about puffing:

he puffed away once and twice

until the third time

he looked down into his forge

at the brims of his bellows

what pushes out of the forge

squeezes out of the fireplace.

A ewe pushes from the forge

sends itself from the bellows

one hair gold and one copper

and the third a silver hair.

The others are delighted

but Ilmarinen is not;

the smith Ilmarinen said:

'The wolf hoped for one like you!

I hope for a golden spouse

for a silver mate.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

thrusts the ewe into the fire

and he added more gold coins

silver coins to top it up

and he set the serfs puffing

the hirelings pressing:

the serfs puffed and flapped

and the hirelings pressed away

with no mittens on their hands

with no hoods over their heads;

as for smith Ilmarinen

he stokes up the forge

tried for a golden figure

for a silver bride.

But the serfs do not puff well

neither do the hirelings press

so the smith Ilmarinen

himself set about puffing:

he puffed away once and twice

until the third time

he looked down into his forge

at the brims of his bellows

what pushes out of the forge

sends itself from the bellows.

37:105-177

A foal pushes from the forge

sends itself from the bellows

its mane gold, its head silver

and all its hoofs of copper.

The others were very pleased

but Ilmarinen is not;

the smith Ilmarinen said:

'The wolf hoped for one like you!

I hope for a golden spouse

for a silver mate.'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

thrusts the foal into the fire

and he added more gold coins

silver coins to top it up

and he set the serfs puffing

the hirelings pressing:

the serfs puffed and flapped

and the hirelings pressed away

with no mittens on their hands

with no hoods over their heads;

as for smith Ilmarinen

he stokes up the forge

tried for a golden figure

for a silver bride.

But the serfs do not puff well

neither do the hirelings press

so the smith Ilmarinen

himself set about puffing:

he puffed away once and twice

until the third time

he looked down into his forge

at the brims of his bellows

what pushes out of the forge

sends itself from the bellows.

A maid pushes from the forge

goldilocks from the bellows

her head silver, her braids gold

all her body beautiful.

The others were badly scared

but Ilmarinen was not!

Then the smith Ilmarinen

forged a golden figure, forged

without a night's rest

without a day's breathing-space:

feet he made for the maiden -

feet he made, hands he formed, but

a foot would not lift at all

nor the hands turn to embrace;

he forged ears for his maid, but

the ears would not hear at all;

so he fitted a fine mouth -

a fine mouth, quick eyes, but he

got no word into the mouth

into the eye nothing sweet.

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'She'd be a fine maid

if she were able to talk

if she had a will, a tongue.'

Then he brought the maid

to a fine-wove bed curtain

and to soft pillows

and to silken beds;

then the smith Ilmarinen

heated a fine bath

prepared a soapy sauna:

he made whisks of twigs ready

and three tubfuls of water

with which the chaffinch washes

the snow bunting cleans himself

of that golden dross.

The smith bathed his fill

doused himself all he wanted;

by the maid's side he stretched out

37:178-247

within the fine-wove curtain

in a tent of steel

in iron netting.

There the smith Ilmarinen

straight away on the first night

certainly needs a cover:

he makes cloaks ready

two or three bear hides

five, six woollen cloaks

to lie with his mate

that golden figure of his.

That side certainly was warm

which was against his cloaks, but

the one against the young maid

against the golden figure

that side was growing cold, was

stiffening to slush

freezing to sea ice

hardening to rock.

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'This is no good to me! I'll

take the maid to Väinö-land

to care for Väinämöinen

for a lifelong mate upon his knee

for a hen under his arm.'

And he takes the maid to Väinö-land.

Then, when he got there

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Hullo, old Väinämöinen!

Here's a girl for you

a maid fair to look upon

nor is she a chatterbox

not all that wide in the jaws.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

glanced at that figure

casts his eyes upon the gold;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Why have you brought this to me -

this golden bugbear?'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'Why else than for good?

For a lifelong mate upon your knee

for a hen under your arm.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'O my little smith brother!

Thrust your maid into the fire

forge from her all tools

or take her to Russia, bring

your figure to Germany

for rich men to be rivals

great men to fight over her!

'Tis not fitting for my kin

not for me myself

to woo a woman of gold

to work on one of silver.'

Then Väinämöinen forbade

the Calm Waters bridegroom banned

forbade the people growing

banned those coming up

from bowing to gold

scraping to silver;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Do not, luckless boys

fellows just growing

whether you're wealthy

even if you're not

ever in this world

not in a month of Sundays

don't woo a woman of gold

37:248-38:31

or work on one of silver

for the gleam of gold is cold

and silver's glitter is chill.'

38. Girl into Gull

Now, that smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

cast out his golden figure

his silver maiden.

He stuck the foal in harness

the bay in front of the sledge

he sits in the sledge

settles in his sleigh:

he promised he would set off

and he thought he would

go to ask Northland

for Northland's other daughter.

He managed one day's driving

then another day's rolling

till on the third day

he arrived in Northland's yard.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

comes into the yard

and there she started talking

she turned round to ask

how her own child was

and her darling getting on

as daughter-in-law in husband's house

as wife in a mother-in-law's house.

Smith Ilmarinen

his head down, in bad spirits

helmet all askew

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Don't, my dear mother-in-law

don't ask about that -

how your daughter is living

38:32-102

your darling is getting on!

Doom has savaged her

a hard end has struck:

in the earth is my berry

in the heath my beautiful

my black-browed one in the grass

my silver one in the hay.

I've come for your other girl

for your younger maid:

give, my dear mother-in-law

and put your other daughter

where my late wife lived -

in her sister's place!'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I, luckless, did wrong

I, down on my luck, was wrong

when I pledged my child, bestowed

even the other on you

to fall asleep young

to roll over full-blooded -

gave as into a wolf's mouth

into a bear's growling jaws.

I'll not now give the other

I'll not put my girl

to sweep up your soot

to scrub off your muck:

I'll sooner put my daughter

place my baby child

into a roaring rapid

into a smoking whirlpool

in the Dead Land's burbot's mouth

on the teeth of Tuoni's pike!'

Then the smith Ilmarinen

twisted his mouth, turned his head

and twisted his black whiskers

shook his curly head

and he pushed indoors

under the roofs made his way;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Right, come with me, girl

in your sister's place

where my late wife lived

to bake honey-bread

and to brew the beer!'

But a child sang from the floor

both sang and declared: 'Be off

extra one, from our stronghold

strange man, from these doors!

You destroyed a block of the stronghold

you damaged a bit of the stronghold

when you came before

when you reached the doors.

Maiden, you sister

don't be charmed by the bridegroom

by the bridegroom's speeches, nor

yet by his fine feet!

The bridegroom has a wolf's gums

fox's legs in his pocket

a bear's claws under his arm

and a blood-drinker's knife at his belt

with which he will slash

your head, cut your back.'

The maid herself talked like this

to Ilmarinen the smith:

'I will not go off with you

nor do I care for birdbrains!

You killed the wife you wedded

you slew my sister:

you'd go on to kill me too

you'd slay me as well.

38:103-173

Look, this maid has it in her

to deserve a better man

to wed a fairer body

to fill a handsomer sleigh

to go to better places

and to grander seats -

not to a smith's coal-holes, to

a stupid man's fires.'

Smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

twisted his mouth, turned his head

and twisted his black whiskers;

he grabbed the girl that minute

wrapped his paws round her

whirled outdoors as snow

hurled himself towards his sledge

thrust the girl into the sledge

dumped her in his sleigh

and straight off he went

prepared to depart

one hand on the stallion's rein

and one on the maid's nipples.

The maid wept and groaned

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I went to the swamp for cranberries

for arum to the water

and there I, a hen, am lost

I, a bird, untimely die!

Listen, smith Ilmarinen:

if you will not let me go

I shall kick your sleigh to bits

smash your sledge to smithereens

kick it apart with my knees

smash it with my shanks!'

Smith Ilmarinen

put this into words:

'That is why a smith's sledge sides

are built of iron -

to withstand the kicks

the writhing of a good lass.'

And the maiden moans

the copper-belted complains

she twists her fingers

wrings her little hands;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'If you will not let me go

I'll sing myself into a sea fish

to a whitefish of the deep billow.'

Smith Ilmarinen

put this into words:

'You will not get there:

I'll pursue you as a pike.'

And the maiden moans

the copper-belted complains

she twists her fingers

wrings her little hands;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'If you will not let me go

I'll dispatch myself to the forest

be a stoat in a rock hole.'

Smith Ilmarinen

put this into words:

'You will not get there:

I'll chase you as an otter.'

And the maiden moans

the copper-belted complains

she twists her fingers

wrings her little hands;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'If you will not let me go

as a lark I'll soar

38:174-242

hide behind a cloud.'

Smith Ilmarinen

put this into words:

'You will not get there:

I'll chase you as an eagle.'

He went a bit of a way

drove a tiny bit of road

till the horse pricks up its ears

the flop-ear fidgets.

The maid raised her head

saw a footprint in the snow

and she asked, she talked:

'What has just run across here?'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'A hare has run across there.'

The hapless maid sighs

she sighs and she gasps;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Woe is me, poor wretch:

better it would be for me

and better it were

in a running hare's footprints

on a crook-knee's stamping-grounds

than within this suitor's sledge

under the quilt of this wrinkle-face

for a hare's coat is fairer

a hare's muzzle more comely!'

Smith Ilmarinen

bit his lip and turned his head;

he hurtles along.

He drove a bit of a way

and the horse pricks up its ears

again, the flop-ear fidgets.

The maid raised her head

saw a footprint in the snow

and she asked, she talked:

'What has just run across here?'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'A fox has run across there.'

The hapless maid sighs -

she sighs and she gasps;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Woe is me, poor wretch:

better it would be for me

and better it were

in a bustling fox's sledge

an ever-moving one's sled

than within this suitor's sledge

under the quilt of this wrinkle-face

for a fox-coat is fairer

a fox-muzzle more comely!'

Smith Ilmarinen

bit his lip and turned his head;

he hurtles along.

He drove a bit of a way

and the horse pricks up its ears

again, the flop-ear fidgets.

The maid raised her head

saw a footprint in the snow

and she asked, she talked:

'What has just run across here?'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'A wolf has run across there.'

The hapless maid sighs -

she sighs and she gasps;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Woe is me, poor wretch:

better it would be for me

and better it were

38:243-310

in a panting wolf's footprints

the steps of one low-snouted

than within this suitor's sledge

under the quilt of this wrinkle-face

for a wolf's coat is fairer

a wolf's muzzle more comely!'

Smith Ilmarinen

bit his lip and turned his head;

he hurtles along

to lodge in a new village.

Tired from the journey

the smith sleeps soundly ...

and someone else seduces

the wife of the sleepy man.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

when he woke in the morning

twisted his mouth, turned his head

and twisted his black whiskers;

the smith Ilmarinen said

he thought and spoke thus:

'Shall I start to sing

and sing such a bride

to the forest for the forest's own

or to water for the water's own?

I'll not sing her for the forest's own:

all the forest would take it amiss;

nor yet for the water's own:

the fishes would sheer away.

I will sooner fell her with my brand

and dispatch her with my sword.'

The sword followed the man's drift

it guessed the fellow's chatter

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Surely I have not been shaped

to dispatch women

or to fell the mean.'

Smith Ilmarinen

now started to sing

was wroth enough to recite -

sang his woman to a gull

to perch on a crag

to screech on a water-reef

to mew at tips of headlands

to wheel in head winds.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

into his sledge flings himself

and hurtles along

his head down, in bad spirits;

he travelled to his own lands

he came to the lands he knew.

Steady old Väinämöinen

meets him on the road

and begins to say:

'Brother, smith Ilmarinen!

Why are you in bad spirits

helmet all askew

as you come back from Northland?

What is life in Northland like?'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'What a life 'tis in Northland!

There the Sampo is grinding

the bright-lid is swivelling:

one day it ground things to eat

the second day things to sell

the third things to store at home.

To say what I say

I'll tell it again:

what a life 'tis in Northland

38:311-39:30

with the Sampo in Northland!

There is ploughing, there sowing

there are all kinds of growing

there is good luck for ever.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Brother, smith Ilmarinen

where have you left the young wife

in what place the famous bride

that you come empty-handed

driving still without a wife?'

Smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I sang a woman like that

to a gull on a sea crag:

now as a gull she sprawls out

as a sea-mew she cackles

she growls on wet rocks

and on reefs she yells.'

39. Sailing to Northland

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Look here, smith Ilmarinen:

let us be off to Northland

to get the good Sampo, to

look for the bright-lid!'

Smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'There's no getting the Sampo

and no bringing the bright-lid

out of dark Northland

from dreary Sariola!

There the Sampo's been taken

the bright-lid carried

into Northland's rocky hill

inside the slope of copper

locked behind nine locks;

in there roots have been rooted

to a depth of nine fathoms

with one root in mother earth

and one in a riverbank

and a third in the home-hill.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Brother smith, my dear brother

let us be off to Northland

to get that Sampo!

Let's build a big ship in which

the Sampo will be taken

the bright-lid carried

out of Northland's rocky hill

39:31-102

from inside the copper slope

and from behind the nine locks!'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'Travel by land is safer.

Let the Devil go to sea

and Doom to the mighty main!

There the wind would swill us round

there a squall would toss

and fingers would serve for oars

and palms for paddles.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Travel by land is safer -

safer but more difficult

still more dodgy than others.

'Tis merry on the waters

for a boat, a craft to cruise

to make the wide waters gleam

to sail the clear main:

the wind lulls the craft

and the billow drives the ship

and the west wind makes ripples

the south wind takes it forward.

Be that as it may

since it seems you're no sailor

let's travel by land

struggle along shores!

Forge for me now a new sword

make a sword of fiery blade

with which I'll harry the hounds

drive out the folk of the North

when we come for the Sampo

yonder to the cold village

into dark Northland

to dreary Sariola!'

Smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

thrust some iron in the fire

some steel among the embers

a whole handful of gold coins

a fistful of silver coins;

he made the serfs puff

and the hirelings press.

The serfs puffed and flapped

the hirelings pressed well:

the iron as gruel stretches

the steel bends as dough

the silver as water gleamed

the gold rippled as a wave.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

looked down in his forge

at the brim of his bellows:

he saw a sword being born

a gold-tipped one taking shape.

He took the stuff from the fire

snatched the good matter

from the forge to the anvil

the hammers, the sledgehammers;

he forged the sword as he liked

the best brand of all -

he shaped it with gold

worked it with silver.

Steady old Väinämöinen

came to look at it and he

took the sword of fiery blade

into his right hand.

He looks, he turns it over;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Is the sword fit for a man

the brand right for a bearer?'

The sword was fit for a man

the brand right for a bearer

39:103-174

for the moon shone from its point

and the sun shone from its side

and the stars flashed from the hilt

a horse neighed upon the blade

a cat mewed on the rivet

a dog snarled on the scabbard.

He brandished his sword

in an iron mountain's cleft

and he put this into words:

'Now with this blade I could smite

even the mountains apart

split the cliffs in two!'

Smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'But with what shall I, luckless

with what, harsh one, shield myself

bolt up and belt up

for land, for water? Shall I

spell myself into armour

put on iron shirts

buckle on steel belts?

In armour a man's tougher

in an iron shirt better

in a steel belt more powerful.'

The hour comes to be

off, the time is ripe to go:

first the old Väinämöinen

next the smith Ilmarinen

set off in search of a horse

listening for a grass-mane, a

yearling's bridle at their belt

shouldering a foal's harness.

The two seek a horse, they look

for a head amid the trees

carefully they watch

round the blue backwoods:

they found a horse in a grove

a grass-mane among spruces.

Steady old Väinämöinen

next the smith Ilmarinen

pressed the golden headstall on

bridled the yearling.

They struggle along -

the two men, along the shore:

from the shore moaning was heard

a complaint from the mooring.

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'There's a lass weeping

there's a hen whining!

Shall we go over to look

to inspect her from close by?'

He steps up closer

he went up to look;

but it was no lass weeping

nor a little hen whining:

'twas a craft weeping

a little boat complaining.

Old Väinämöinen uttered

when he reached the craft:

'Why do you weep, wooden craft

strong-rowlocked boat, why complain?

Do you weep your woodenness

brood over your rowlocks' strength?'

But the craft of wood answers

the boat with strong rowlocks says:

'A boat's will is for waters

though its rollers be tarry;

a maid's will is for a husband's house

though her own home be lofty.

This is why I weep, poor craft

woeful boat, why I complain:

39:175-245

I weep for a waterman

for a launcher on the waves.

It was said as I was made

sung as I was being built

that a war-boat would be got

and a battle-craft worked on

to bring my full load of spoils

my hold full of treasure; but

there's been no getting to war

not upon spoil-roads at all!

Other craft, even bad craft

they are always off to wars

trudging off to fights:

three times in summer

they bring their full load of coins

their hold full of treasure; but

I, a well-carved little boat

well built with a hundred planks

here rot upon my shavings

and stretch out upon my stocks

and the very worst earthworms

dwell beneath my ribs

and the air's wickedest birds

nest upon my mast

and all the wild's very frogs

hop upon my prow.

'Twould be twice more fair

twice, three times better to be

as a fir tree on a hill

as a pine upon the heath

for a squirrel to run on my boughs

for a dog to roll beneath.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

at that put this into words:

'Don't weep, wooden craft

boat with strong rowlocks, don't fuss!

Soon you will be off to wars

trudging off to fights.

If you, craft, are the Lord's work -

the Lord's work, the giver's gift

edge-on you'll rush into water

broadside into the billows you'll plunge

without a fist touching you

with no hand laid upon you

with no shoulder guiding you

no arm taking care of you!'

But the wooden craft answers

the boat with strong rowlocks says:

'My other great kin will not

neither will my brother boats

go without being pushed out

being launched upon the waves

unless they are touched

by fists, turned by arms.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'If I push you out

will you run unrowed

not helped with oars, not

backed with a tiller

your sail not blown on?'

But the wooden craft answers

the boat with strong rowlocks says:

'My other great kin will not

nor will the next of my crowd

run without fingers rowing

not helped with oars, not

backed with a tiller

their sail not blown on.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

at that put this into words:

'Will you run when rowed

39:246-315

when helped with oars, when

backed with a tiller

your sail blown upon?'

And the wooden craft answers

the boat with strong rowlocks says:

'Certainly my other kin

all my brother boats

have run with fingers rowing

when helped with oars, when

backed with a tiller

their sail blown upon.'

At that old Väinämöinen

left the horse upon the sand

fixed the halter to a tree

fastened the reins to a bough

shoved the boat in the waters

sang the craft on to the waves

and he asked the wooden craft

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'O you strong-ribbed little boat

wooden craft with tough rowlocks

are you fair at carrying

as you're fair to look upon?'

And the wooden craft answers

the boat with strong rowlocks says:

'Yes, I'm fair at carrying

and roomy below:

a hundred fellows can row

and a thousand sit about.'

At that old Väinämöinen

sings under his breath -

sang first one side full

of bristle-headed bridegrooms

bristle-headed, flint-fisted

great ones with boots on their feet

and he sang the other side

full of tin-headed daughters

tin-headed, copper-belted

comely ones with gold fingers;

Väinämöinen sang on, sang

the thwarts full of folk -

and they are old folk

forever sitting

where a little room was left

by the youngsters who were first.

He himself sits in the stern

behind the birch prow

and let his ship go;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Run, craft, where there are no trees

boat, over the wide waters;

ride as bubbles on the sea

water lilies on the waves!'

He put the bridegrooms to row

and the maids to sit about:

the bridegrooms rowed, the oars sagged

but they got nowhere at all.

He put the maidens to row

the bridegrooms to sit about:

the maids rowed, their fingers sagged

but they got nowhere at all.

He moved the old in to row

the young to look on:

the old rowed, their heads trembled

but again they got nowhere.

At that smith Ilmarinen

himself sat to row

and now the wooden craft ran -

the craft ran, the journey sped.

Far off the oar-splash was heard

39:316-386

far away the rowlocks' whirr.

He rows with gusto:

the thwarts bent and the sides sagged

the rowan oars slammed

the oar handles squealed as grouse

and the blades as black grouse cooed

and the bow droned as a swan

the stern croaked as a raven

and the rowlocks swished as geese.

Old Väinämöinen

goes full speed ahead

in the stern of the red craft

in charge of the large paddle.

A headland looms on the way

and a wretched village gleams:

Ahti dwells on the headland

Farmind underneath its arm.

Farmind wept a lack of fish

Lemminkäinen lack of bread

Ahti his shed's littleness

the rogue his rations' smallness.

He was carving a boat's sides

and the keel of a new craft

on the long hunger-headland

on the mean village's beach.

He was keen of ear

and of eye even better:

he cast his eyes north-west, turned

his head to below the sun

and sees a rainbow far off

further off a bank of cloud.

But it was no rainbow, nor

was it a small bank of cloud:

it was a craft on the move

a little boat travelling

on the clear high seas

upon the open expanse

a clear-skinned man in the stern

a handsome man at the oars.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'I don't know that craft, I don't

recognize that splendid boat;

rowing from Finland it comes

its oar striking from the east

its paddle heading north-west.'

He shouted out loud

he hallooed, hollered, the man

shouted from the headland tip

the full-blooded across the waters:

'Whose boat is on the waters

whose ship on the waves?'

The men in the craft

speak and the women answer:

'What are you, forest-dweller

tree-thumping yokel

that you don't know this craft, don't

recognize Väinö-land's boat

don't know the fellow astern

nor yet the oarsman?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'Now I know the helmsman, now

I see who the oarsman is:

steady old Väinämöinen

he is the helmsman

Ilmarinen the oarsman.

So where are you going, men

which way bound, fellows?'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Northward we're sailing

towards the steep foam

and the froth-capped waves

39:387-426

to try and get the Sampo

to look the bright-lid

out of Northland's rocky hill

from inside the copper slope.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'Ahoy, old Väinämöinen!

Do take me, a man

for a third fellow, if you're

going to raise the Sampo

bear off the bright-lid!

I shall count as a man too

should the need arise to fight:

I'll give orders to my palms

instructions to my shoulders.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

took the man on his travels

and the rogue into his boat.

That wanton Lemminkäinen

now comes panting, makes

his roundabout way

bringing a board as he comes

into Väinämöinen's boat.

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Surely there's wood in my craft

and boards in my boat

to ballast it for the best

so why do you put your board

add wood to the craft?'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'Care will not capsize a boat

nor a prop destroy a rick.

Often on the Northern sea

a wind demands boards

a head wind bulwarks.'

But old Väinämöinen said:

'That is why the war-boat's breast

is built of iron

and is tipped with steel, so that

it will not be overwhelmed

by a wind, tossed by a squall.'

40. The Pike

Steady old Väinämöinen

goes full speed ahead

from that long headland's end, out

of earshot of the wretched village;

he sailed the waters singing

the waves rejoicing.

The maids on the headlands' tips

look on and listen:

'What could be the joy at sea

what the song upon the waves -

the joy better than before

song more fitting than others?'

The old Väinämöinen sailed -

sailed one day on land-waters

the next day on swamp-waters

a third on rapid-waters.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

thought of a few of his words

on the fiery rapid's brink

in the holy stream's whirlpool;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Leave off, rapid, your foaming

mighty water, your stirring!

Girl of the rapid, foam-maid

sit upon a teeming rock

get on a teeming boulder:

with your arms stay the billows

with your hands bundle them up

with your fists control the foam

so they'll not spurt on our breasts

nor spray upon us!

Hag below the billows, old

wife at the foam's brink

rise fists first upon the foam

breasting the billows come up

to gather the foam

to take care of the froth-crests

so they'll not shove the guiltless

roll on the blameless!

Let the rocks in mid-river

the boulders at the foam's peak

lower their foreheads

and press down their scalps

from the way of the red craft

the path of the tarry boat!

'Should not enough come of that

Rocky Horror, son of Dread*

drill a hole now with a drill

pierce with a borer

the heart of the rapid's rock

the bad boulder's side

for the craft to run unjammed

and the boat unharmed!

'Should not enough come of that

water-master, undertow

turn the rocks into mosses

into a pike's air bladder the boat

as the foam is ridden, as

the wave-crests are gone over!

Maid upon the rapid's brink

lass at the edge of the stream

spin now a fine yarn

out of a fine bunch of flax:

take your yarn to the water

your bluish stuff to the wave

for the craft to run along

the tar-breast to dash along

40:69-139

for a man to reckon with to go

for an utter stranger to know how!

Paddle-daughter, sweet woman

take your sweet paddle

with which you will hold the stern

through enchanted streams ease it

before an envious Lapp's tent

below a witch's window!

'Should not enough come of that

Old Man, heaven's god

hold the stern with your sword, keep

watch with it unsheathed

for the wooden craft to run

for the boat of pine to go!'

Old Väinämöinen

goes full speed ahead:

he let it go between reefs

over that steep foam;

nor did the wooden craft jam

the wise man's boat run aground.

Only when he had got there

to those wide waters

did the craft jam, stop running

the little boat stop speeding -

and the craft jams hard

the boat will not budge.

Smith Ilmarinen

next wanton Lemminkäinen

stuck a paddle in the sea

a spruce sliver in the wave:

patiently they work to free

that craft from the jam;

but the little boat won't run

nor will the wooden craft shift.

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'O you wanton Loverboy

lean over and see

what the craft is jammed upon

the little boat tangled with

on these wide waters

on this quiet stretch -

whether a rock or a log

or something else in the way!'

That wanton Lemminkäinen

spun round to look. He

looks below the little boat;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'The boat is not on a rock -

not a rock and not a log:

the boat's on a pike's shoulders

on a water-dog's haunches!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Anything's in a river -

it may be logs, may be pike.

If we're on a pike's shoulders

on a water-dog's haunches

drag the water with your sword

chop the fish in two!'

That wanton Lemminkäinen

the boy, the full-blooded rogue

he draws the sword from his belt

the bone-biter from his flank;

he dragged the sea with the sword

below the side he sweeps it -

and toppled in the water

fists first plunged in the billow.

At that smith Ilmarinen

seized the fellow by the locks

hoisted the man from the sea

40:140-211

and he put this into words:

'All has been fashioned into

a man, made to wear a beard

to add up to a hundred

to fill out to a thousand!'

He draws the sword from his belt

from its sheath the harsh iron

with which he slashed at the fish

below the side thwacked at it:

the sword broke into bits, but

the pike knew nothing at all.

Steady old Väinämöinen

at that put this into words:

'Between you's not half a man

of a fellow not a third!

Whenever there is a need

and a man's mind is required

then the mind is anyhow

all the sense is somewhere else.'

He hauled out his sword himself

snatched the sharp iron

thrust his sword into the sea

below the side brought it down

on the fishy pike's shoulders

on the water-dog's haunches

and the sword stuck hard

in the gills fastened.

At that old Väinämöinen

hoisted up the fish, he dragged

the pike out of the water:

the pike broke in two;

the tail sank to the bottom

the head jumped into the skiff.

Now the little boat could run

the craft got free of the jam;

steady old Väinämöinen

brought the craft towards a crag

hustled it ashore.

He looks at, he turns over

the head portion of the pike

and he put this into words:

'The oldest of the bridegrooms

is the one to split the pike

to slice up the fish

to hack the head to pieces!'

But the men speak from the craft

women declared from the sides:

'The catcher's hands the sweetest

the hunter's fingers the holiest.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

drew the knife from its holder

from his flank the cold iron

with which he splits up the pike

and hacks the fish to pieces

and he puts this into words:

'The youngest of the maidens

is the one to cook the pike

for breakfast titbits

for fishy lunches!'

The maids came to cook -

as many as ten raced up;

then the pike is cooked

breakfasted on in titbits.

Some bones were left on the crag

fishbones on the rock.

Steady old Väinämöinen

at that looks at them -

looks at them, turns them over;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'I wonder what these -

these pike-teeth, this wide

jawbone - could become

40:212-280

were they in a smith's workshop

with a skilful craftsman, in

a mighty man's hands?'

The smith Ilmarinen said:

'What's nothing becomes nothing

a fishbone no tool

even in a smith's workshop

with a skilful craftsman, in

a mighty man's hands.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'But surely these could become

a kantele* of fishbones

were there someone who knew how

who could make an instrument of bones.'

When no one else came forward

and there was none who knew how

who could make an instrument of bones

steady old Väinämöinen

made of himself a maker

took the shape of a shaper:

he made an instrument of pike bones

produced a joy for ever.

What was the kantele's belly from? -

'twas from the big pike's jawbone.

What the kantele's pegs from? -

they were made from the pike's teeth.

What the kantele's strings from? -

from the hairs of the Demon's gelding.

Now the instrument was made

and ready the kantele

the great pikebone instrument

the kantele of fish-fins:

the young men came up to it

and the married fellows came

the half-grown boys came

and the little wenches too

young girls and old wives

middle-aged women

to look at the kantele

to inspect the instrument.

Steady old Väinämöinen

told a young one, told an old

told one too of middle age

to play with their fingers that

sounding thing of bones

the kantele of fishbones.

The young played and the old played

the middle-aged played:

the young played, their fingers sagged

the old tried, their heads trembled;

but joy did not rise to joy

nor instrument to music.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'O you half-witted sons, you

silly daughters too

and other mean folk:

among you there's no player

no one who rightly knows how!

Bring the instrument to me

and carry the kantele

to two upright kneecaps, to

the tips of ten fingernails!'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

took the kantele in hand

the joy closer to himself

the instrument beneath his fingers:

he tunes the instrument, turns

the kantele round;

40:281-342

but the instrument won't play

the joy won't rejoice at all.

The old Väinämöinen said:

'There's not among these youngsters

among the people growing

nor among the old, any

player of this instrument

one to make this joy rejoice.

Might Northland better

play this instrument

make this joy rejoice

if I sent it to Northland?'

He sent it to Northland, to

Sariola had it brought:

the boys in Northland played it

both lads and lasses played it

and the men with wives played it

the women with husbands too;

the mistress herself played it

turned it and tried it

she put her fingers to it

plucked it with ten fingernails.

The boys in Northland played, all

sorts of people played;

but joy did not sound like joy

nor the music like music:

the strings went awry

the hairs twanged badly

the sound rang out wrong

the instrument hoarsely hummed.

A blind man slept in a nook

an old man on a stove top;

the old man on the stove woke

at the hearth started

growled from the sleep-place

snarled from his corner:

'Have done and leave off

give over, stop it!

It is blowing through my ears

it is going through my head

making all my hair stand up

robbing me of hours of sleep!

If the Finnish folk's music

will not move to joy

or wear down to sleep

persuade to slumber

then chuck it in the water

and sink it in the billows

or else take it back

have the instrument brought there -

to the hands of him who shaped,

its tuner's fingers!'

The instrument finds its tongue

the kantele struck up words:

'I'll not hit the water yet

nor dwell below the billows!

I'll play first with a player

whine with one who's taken pains.'

So it was carried with care

borne beautifully

to the hand of its maker

the knees of him who fetched it.

41. The Pikebone Kantele

Steady old Väinämöinen

the everlasting singer

prepares his fingers

rubs his thumbs ready;

he sits on the rock of joy

on the song-boulder settles

on the silver hill

on the golden knoll;

he fingered the instrument

turned the curved thing on his knees

the kantele in his hands;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Now, let him come and listen

who may not before have heard

the joy of eternal bards

the sound of the kantele!'

At that old Väinämöinen

began to play prettily

the sounding thing of pike-bones

the kantele of fishbones;

his fingers rose nimbly, his

thumb lifted lightly:

now joy waxed joyful

delight echoed like delight

music sounded like music

song had the effect of song;

the pike's tooth tinkled

the fish-tail poured forth

the stallion's hairs called

the hairs of the steed rang out.

As old Väinämöinen played

there was none in the forest

running on four legs

or hopping on foot

that did not come to listen

marvel at the merriment:

the squirrels reached from leafy

twig to leafy twig

and the stoats turned up

sat down on fences;

the elk skipped upon the heaths

and the lynxes made merry.

The wolf too woke on a swamp

and the bear rose on the heath

from a den of pine

from a spruce thicket;

the wolf ran long distances

the bear ranged over the heaths

sat down at last on a fence

and fling themselves at a gate:

the fence fell upon the rock

the gate toppled in the glade;

then they scrambled up a spruce

they swung up a pine

to listen to the music

marvel at the merriment.

Tapiola's careful lord

Forestland's master himself

and all Tapio's people

both lasses and lads

climbed a mountain peak

to take note of the music;

the forest's mistress herself

Tapiola's careful wife

dresses up in blue stockings

puts on red laces

squatted in a birch's crook

perched on an alder's warp, to

41:69-138

listen to the kantele

to take note of the music.

What birds of the air there were

wheeling on two wings

they too came whirling

and speeding they sped

to listen to the delight

marvel at the merriment:

when the eagle at home heard

the fine music of Finland

it left its brood in the nest

and took wing itself

to the sweet fellow's music

the strains of Väinämöinen;

from on high the eagle flew

through the clouds the hawk

calloos from the deep billows

and swans from unfrozen swamps;

even little chaffinches

and twittering birds

buntings in hundreds

nigh a thousand larks

admired in the air

chattered upon his shoulders

as the father made merry

as Väinämöinen played on.

Yes, the air's nature-daughters

and the air's lovely lassies

marvelled at the merriment

listened to the kantele;

one on the sky's collar-bow

shimmered upon a rainbow

one on top of a small cloud

bloomed upon the russet edge.

That Moon-daughter, handsome lass

the worthy maid Sun-daughter

were holding their reeds

raising their heddles

weaving golden stuff

and jingling silver

on the rim of the red cloud

upon the long rainbow's end;

when they got to hear

the sound of that fine music

the reed slipped out of their grasp

the shuttle dropped from their hand

the golden threads snapped

and the silver heddles clinked.

There was no creature

not in the water either

moving with six fins

the best shoal of fish

that did not come to listen

marvel at the merriment:

the pike slink along

the water-dogs veer along

the salmon roamed from the crags

and the whitefish from the depths;

the little roach, the perch too

pollans and other fish too

drift side by side to the reeds

wend their way shoreward

to listen to Väinö's tale

to take note of the music.

Ahto, king of the billows

the water's grass-bearded lord

draws himself to the surface

glides on a water lily;

there he listened to the joy

and he put this into words:

41:139-212

'I have not heard such before

ever in this world

as Väinämöinen's music

as the eternal bard's joy!'

The scaup-daughter sisters, the

shore's reedy sisters-in-law

were smoothing their hair

brushing their tresses

with a brush of silver tip

with a comb of gold;

they got to hear the strange sound

and that fine music:

the comb slid in the water

the brush vanished in the wave

and the hair was left unsmoothed

the locks half undone.

The water's mistress herself

the water's reed-breasted dame

now rises out of the sea

jerks herself out of the wave;

at the reedy edge she reared

she turns upward on a reef

to hear that sound, the

music of Väinämöinen

for it was a wondrous sound

and the music very fine

and there she fell fast asleep

she sank down on her belly

on the back of a bright rock

the side of a thick boulder.

Then the old Väinämöinen

played for one day, played for two;

there was no fellow

nor any brave man

there was no man nor wife, nor

one who wore her hair in braids

who did not fall to weeping

whose heart did not melt:

the young wept and the old wept

and the unmarried men wept

and the married fellows wept

the half-grown boys wept

both boys and maidens

and the little wenches too

for it was a wondrous sound

and the old man's music sweet.

Even from Väinämöinen

a tear tumbled down:

the trickles dripped from his eyes

the water-drops rolled

bigger round than cranberries

and thicker than peas

rounder than grouse eggs

and larger than swallows' heads.

The waters rolled from his eye

others oozed from the other

dropped upon his cheeks

upon his fair face

down from his fair face

upon his wide jaws

down from his wide jaws

upon his stout breast

down from his stout breast

to his sturdy knees

from his sturdy knees

upon his handsome insteps

down from his handsome insteps

to the ground beneath his feet

through five woollen cloaks

through his six gold belts

seven blue waistcoats

eight homespun caftans;

the water-drops rolled

down from old Väinämöinen

41:213-266

to the shore of the blue sea

from the shore of the blue sea

down below the clear waters

upon the black mud.

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Is there among these youngsters -

these youngsters so fair

among this great kin

these of grand background

one to gather up my tears

from below the clear waters?'

The young there speak thus

and the old answer:

'There's not among these youngsters -

these youngsters so fair

among this great kin

these of grand background

one to gather up your tears

from below the clear waters.'

The old Väinämöinen said

he uttered, spoke thus:

'Whoever brought back my tears

gathered up the water-drops

from below the clear waters

would get from me a coat of feathers.'

A raven came flapping up

and old Väinämöinen said:

'Raven, fetch my tears

from below the clear waters

and I'll give you a coat of feathers.'

But the raven got nothing.

A blue scaup heard that

so the blue scaup came

and old Väinämöinen said:

'Blue scaup, you often

dive down with your beak

and cool off in the water

so go, gather up my tears

from below the clear waters!

You will get the best wages:

I will give you a coat of feathers.'

The scaup went to gather up

Väinämöinen's tears

from below the clear waters

from the top of the black mud;

gathered the tears from the sea

carried them to Väinö's hand.

They had changed to other things

had grown to things that are fair:

into beads they had swollen

into pearls they had ripened

to be the delights of kings

and rulers' joys for ever.

42. Stealing the Sampo

Steady old Väinämöinen

next the smith Ilmarinen

third the wanton Loverboy

he, the fair Farmind

went off upon the clear sea

upon the vast waves

yonder to the cold village

into dark Northland

the man-eating, the

fellow-drowning place.

Now, who there would be rower?

First the smith Ilmarinen:

yes, he there would be rower

at the foremost oars;

next wanton Lemminkäinen

at the hindmost oars.

Steady old Väinämöinen

sat down at the stern

and he goes full speed ahead

cutting through the waves

through all that steep foam

through the froth-capped waves

headed for the North's moorings

for the rollers known of old.

Well, when they got there

reached the end of their voyage

they dragged the boat up on land

they hauled the tar-breast

up on to the steel rollers

the copper moorings;

then they came to the cabins

and pushed straight inside.

The mistress of Northland asked

inquired of the newcomers:

'What message do the men have

what news the fellows?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

this one answers that:

'The men's message concerns the

the fellows' news the bright-lid:

we've come to share the Sampo

to look out for the bright-lid.'

She, the mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'No grouse can be shared by two

nor a squirrel by three men.

'Tis good that the Sampo hums

and the bright-lid churns away

within Northland's rocky hill

and inside the copper slope;

it is good too that I am

keeper of the great Sampo.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'If you'll not give a part, that

other half of the Sampo

we shall carry off the lot

we shall take it to our boat.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

she took that badly.

She called Northland together

young men with their swords

and fellows with their weapons

out for Väinämöinen's head.

42:65-136

Steady old Väinämöinen

seized his kantele

he sat down to play

began to play prettily;

and they all stopped to listen

marvel at the merriment -

men in good spirits

wives with smiling lips

fellows with tears in their eyes

and boys kneeling on the ground.

He wears the folk down

he tires the people:

all the listeners fell asleep

the watchers sank down;

the young slept and the old slept

at Väinämöinen's music.

Then the shrewd Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

groped in his pocket

fumbled in his purse;

he takes sleep-needles

smeared their eyes with sleep

knits up the lashes

and locked up the lids

of the weary folk

of the slumbering fellows:

into a long sleep, into

a longer slumber he put

the whole household of Northland

and all the village people.

He went to get the Sampo

to look the bright-lid

out of Northland's rocky hill

from inside the copper slope

from behind nine locks

and an inner bolt the tenth;

and there old Väinämöinen

sings under his breath

in the copper slope's doorways

at the rocky stronghold's rims:

now the stronghold's gates

moved, the iron hinges shook.

As for smith Ilmarinen

he was there as second man:

with butter he smeared the locks

the hinges with fat

lest the doors should creak

and the hinges mew. The locks

he eased loose with his fingers

the bolts he slipped with a hoe:

now as though in bits the locks

turned, the strong doors swung open.

At that old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'O you wanton Loverboy

foremost of my friends

go, take this Sampo

and tug the bright-lid!'

That wanton Lemminkäinen

that is, fair Farmind

quite prompt without being told

quick without being extolled

went off to get the Sampo

to tug the bright-lid

and he said as he went there

boasted on his way:

'What of man there is in me

what of fellow in the Old Man's son

by it may the Sampo be

shifted, and the bright-lid turned

with the help of my right foot

with the touch of my shoe heel!'

42:137-209

Lemminkäinen made to shift -

made to shift and made to turn

gripped the Sampo in his arms

strove with his knees on the ground;

but the Sampo will not move

the bright-lid will not swivel

for its roots had been rooted

to a depth of nine fathoms.

There's a good ox in Northland

that is strong of frame

very tough of flank

and of sinews most handsome;

its horns are a fathom long

one and a half thick its snout.

He took the ox from the hay

and a plough from a field edge;

with it ploughed the Sampo's roots

the bright-lid's fasteners:

the Sampo started to move

and the bright-lid to swivel.

At that old Väinämöinen

next the smith Ilmarinen

third wanton Lemminkäinen

led away the great Sampo

out of Northland's rocky hill

from inside the copper slope

and they took it to their boat

and stowed it aboard their ship

got the Sampo in their craft

the bright-lid upon its ribs

launched the boat on the waters

the hundred-planked on the waves;

the boat splashed in the water

set off broadside on the wave.

The smith Ilmarinen asked

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Where shall the Sampo be brought

which way shall it be conveyed

from these bad places

from luckless Northland?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered and spoke thus:

'There shall the Sampo be brought

and the bright-lid fetched -

to the misty headland's tip

to the foggy island's end

that it may be lucky there

and dwell there always.

There is a little room there

just a bit of space

with no eating, no beating

no meeting of a man's sword.'

At that old Väinämöinen

went away out of Northland

went in good spirits

gladly towards his own lands

and then he recited thus:

'Turn, craft, from Northland

turn yourself homeward

and your back to foreign lands!

O wind, lull the craft

water, rock the boat

give help to the oars

ease to the tiller

on these wide waters

on these open expanses!

If the oars are small

the rowers puny

the helmsmen little

the pilots children

Ahto, give oars of yours, a

boat of yours, water-master

new and better oars

42:210-278

another, firmer paddle

apply yourself to the oars

settle down to row:

let the wooden craft

run, let the iron-rowlocked

cleave through the steep foam

and the froth-capped waves!'

At that old Väinämäinen

goes full speed ahead.

As for smith Ilmarinen

and wanton Lemminkäinen

they are there rowing

rowing and speeding along

over the main's clear waters

over the vast waves.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'Once upon a time

as a rower had water

so a singer had a tale;

but not nowadays

do we ever hear

lilting in a boat

singing on the waves.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'No lilting on the waters

and no singing on the waves!

Song keeps you lazy

tales delay rowing.

Precious day would pass and night

would overtake us midway

on these wide waters

upon these vast waves.'

The wanton Lemminkäinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'The time will pass anyway

the fair day will flee

and the night will come panting

and the twilight will steal in

if you don't sing while you live

nor hum in this world.'

Old Väinämöinen

sailed the blue high seas

sailed one day, sailed two

till on the third day

that wanton Lemminkäinen

a second time declared: 'Why

won't you sing, Väinämöinen

and hum, man of Good Waters

now you've got the good Sampo

and set your course straight?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

for sure he answers:

"Tis too early for singing

too betimes for merriment.

'Twould only be right to sing

and proper to make merry

if our own doors were in sight

and our own gates were creaking.'

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'If it were me at the stern

I would sing out all I could

I'd cuckoo with all my strength;

we may not be able to

again, not have strength enough.

If you'll not promise to sing

I will start a song myself.'

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

42:279-351

he adjusts his mouth

he pitches his tone

and began to hum

the wretch burst out cuckooing

with his surly voice

with his rasping throat.

Wanton Lemminkäinen sang

Farmind bellowed out:

his mouth moved and his beard shook

and his jaws quivered.

The song was heard further off

the trill across the waters

was heard in six villages

over seven seas.

A crane sat upon a stump

on top of a wet hummock

counting its toe bones

lifting up its feet.

Now, it was greatly startled

by Lemminkäinen's singing:

the crane let out a weird croak

blurted out an evil note

and took off at once

flew off to Northland.

Then, when it got there

and arrived on the North's swamp

it was still screeching harshly

and shrilly yelling:

that way it awoke Northland

roused the evil power.

The mistress of Northland rose

after lying long asleep.

She went into her cowshed

she ran to her store

looks over her herd

checks her property:

none of the herd had vanished

of her goods none had been snatched.

She went to the rocky hill

the door of the copper slope

and she said when she got there:

'Woe, luckless me, for my days!

A stranger has been here, made

all the locks quiver

moved the stronghold gates

broken the iron hinges!

Could the Sampo have been got

from here, taken without leave?'

Yes, the Sampo had been got

from there, and snatched the bright-lid

out of Northland's rocky hill

from inside the copper slope

from behind nine locks

and an inner bolt the tenth.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

she took that badly

saw her power sinking

her authority failing

and she prays to Mist-daughter:

'Mist-girl, fog-maiden

sift mist with a sieve

waft some fog about

drop slime down from heaven

let a haze down from the sky

on the clear high seas

upon the open expanse

to cut Väinämöinen off

stop the man of Calm Waters!

'Should not enough come of that

Sea-monster, the Gaffer's son

raise your head out of the sea

your scalp from the wave;

fell the men of Kaleva

42:352-421

and drown those of Calm Waters

destroy the vicious fellows

underneath the deep billows;

bring the Sampo to Northland

without rolling from the boat!

'Should not enough come of that

O Old Man, chief god

the sky's golden king

silver governor

make stormy weather

raise a great air force:

create wind, send a billow

right against the boat

to cut Väinämöinen off

block the man of Calm Waters!'

The mist-girl, maid of the fog

breathes a mist upon the sea

brought forth a fog in the air

and kept old Väinämöinen

for all of three nights

amid the blue sea

so that he could not get on

not go anywhere at all.

When for three nights he'd rested

amid the blue sea

old Väinämöinen uttered

he declared, spoke thus:

'Not even a worse man, a

sleepier fellow

is to be drowned in a mist

overcome by fog!'

He dragged the water with his

brand, smacked the sea with his sword:

mead swished forth from the brand's path

and honey from the sword-splash;

the slime rose to heaven

the mist went up to the sky

and the sea was clear of fog

and the sea's billow of haze

and the sea sprang to full size

the world filled out big.

A little time passed

a moment sped by;

and now a loud roar was heard

at the rim of the red boat;

foam rose high against

Väinämöinen's craft.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

was truly greatly startled:

the blood drained from his

face, the red fell from his cheeks

and he pulled a quilt over his head

over his ears he drew it

covered his face handsomely

and his eyes that much better.

Old Väinämöinen

looked aside at the waters

cast his eyes at the craft's side

saw something of a wonder:

Sea-monster, the Gaffer's son

at the rim of the red boat

raised his head out of the sea

his scalp from the wave.

Steady old Väinämöinen

got hold of him by the ears

and by the ears he hoists him;

he asked him, he talked

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Sea-monster, the Gaffer's son

why did you rise from the sea

42:422-492

why come up from the billow

in front of mankind -

let alone Kaleva's son?'

Sea-monster, the Gaffer's son

neither is he pleased at that

nor is he very frightened

nor indeed does he answer.

Steady old Väinämöinen

carefully inquired again

three times loudly asks:

'Sea-monster, the Gaffer's son

why did you rise from the sea

why come up from the billow?'

Sea-monster, the Gaffer's son

at the third time now

he says a word in answer:

'For this I rose from the sea

and came up from the billow:

I had it in mind

to slay Kaleva's kin, to

get the Sampo to Northland.

But if you will drop me in the waves

now, and spare a rascal's life

I will never come again

in front of mankind.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

threw the rascal in the waves

and he put this into words:

'Sea-monster, the Gaffer's son

don't you rise out of the sea

don't come up from the billow

in front of mankind

from this day forward!'

And not since that day has the

Monster risen from the sea

in front of mankind

nor will he rise while there is

moon and sun, and the day good

and the world a joy to see.

Then the old Väinämöinen

eased his ship forward.

A little time passed

a moment sped by;

now the Old Man, the chief god

he, the master of the skies

told the winds to blow

the stormy weather to rage.

The winds rose to blow

the stormy weather to rage:

loudly the west wind blustered

and the north-west wind flared up;

more so the south wind

the east whistled wickedly;

dreadfully the south-east roared

the north loudly screamed;

and they blew the trees leafless

the conifer trees coneless

the heather flowerless

the grasses huskless

raised black mud on top

of the clear waters.

Hard then the winds blew

the billows rammed the vessel:

they bore the harp of pike-bones

the kantele of fish-fins

for the Wave-wife's people's good

Ahto-land's joy for ever.

Ahto noticed it on the billows

Ahto's children on the waves:

they took the fine instrument

carried it off home.

42:493-562

At that old Väinämöinen's

tears sprang to his eyes

and he put this into words:

'So much for what I have done:

there goes my best instrument

my joy for ever is lost!

No more shall I have

ever in this world

joy of a pike's tooth

fishbone melody.'

As for smith Ilmarinen

he was sorely pained;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Woe, luckless me, for my days

that I set out on these seas

on these open expanses

trod on whirling wood

on a trembling twig!

My locks have seen wind

and my hair frightful weather

my beard evil days -

seen on these very waters;

seldom can a man have known

wind before that looks like this

foam as steep as this

froth-capped waves like these.

Now the wind is my refuge

the sea's billow my mercy!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

at this point he thinks:

'No crying aboard

shrieking in the craft!

Tears won't free us from trouble

nor will screams from evil days.'

Then he put this into words

he declared, spoke thus:

'Water, forbid your

son, wave, ban your child,

Ahto, settle the billows

and Wave-wife, the water-folk

so they don't splash the handrails

or reach the top of my ribs!

Rise, wind, to the sky

up into the clouds begone

to your kin, your tribe

your clan, your household!

Do not fell the wooden craft

or capsize the boat of fir;

sooner fell trees to be cleared

overturn spruces on mounds!'

The wanton Lemminkäinen

he, the fair Farmind

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Come, O eagle of Lapland

and bring three of your feathers

eagle, three and raven, two

to take care of the small boat

be the wretched craft's handrail!'

He added some boards

he prepared bulwarks;

he joined on the extra boards

a full fathom high

to stop the billow coming

over, splashing the handrails.

Now there were quite enough boards

on the boat enough bulwarks

for the harsh wind to flare up

for the stern billow to push

as the foam was ridden, as

the wave-crests were gone over.

43. Battle at Sea

Louhi, mistress of Northland

called Northland together: she

armed the crowd with their crossbows

equipped the men with their swords;

she made ready the North's craft

prepared the war-boat

mustered the men in her ship

prepared the warriors

as a scaup its young

as a teal musters its chicks -

a hundred swordsmen

a thousand fellows with bows;

she erected masts

fitted canvas-trees

hoisted sails upon the mast

canvas on the trees

like a long cloud-bank

a mass of cloud in the sky

and then she cast off

she both went and sped

to try and get the Sampo

out of Väinämöinen's boat.

Steady old Väinämöinen

is sailing on the blue sea

and he put this into words

spoke from the stern of his craft:

'O you wanton Loverboy

foremost of my friends:

climb to the masthead

scramble up the canvas-tree

glance at the weather ahead

check the sky astern, to see

whether the skyline is clear

whether clear or overcast!'

That wanton Lemminkäinen

the boy, the full-blooded rogue

quite prompt without being told

quick without being extolled

climbed to the masthead

scrambled up the canvas-tree.

He looked east, looked west

looked north-west and south

looked across to the North's shore;

then he put this into words:

'All clear the weather ahead

but gloomy the sky astern:

there is a small cloud northward

a cloud-bank to the north-west.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Surely you have lied!

That's no cloud at all

a cloud-bank it cannot be:

that's a craft with sails.

Look again more carefully!'

He looked again, looked with care

and says with this word: 'Far off

an island heaves into view

out there it is looming, with

aspens full of hawks, birches

of speckled capercaillies.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Surely you have lied!

Hawks those cannot be

nor speckled capercaillies:

they're sons of the North.

Look carefully a third time!'

43:67-138

The wanton Lemminkäinen

looked a third time too;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Now the North's craft is coming

the hundred-rowlocked cleaving!

There's a hundred men at oars

a thousand sitting about!'

Then the old Väinämöinen

realized the truth;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Row, you smith Ilmarinen

row, wanton Lemminkäinen

row, the lot of you

that the little boat may run

the craft make headway!'

The smith Ilmarinen rowed

wanton Lemminkäinen rowed

and the whole lot of them rowed.

The hardwood oars bent

and the rowan rowlocks slammed

and the boat of fir shuddered;

the prow flung spray as a seal

the stern as a rapid roared

the water boiled in bubbles

and the froth flew up in balls.

The fellows vied in tugging

and the men strove in pulling;

but they got nowhere at all

the wooden craft would not flee

from before the craft with sails

that boat of Northland.

Then the old Väinämöinen

felt his ruin coming, his

day of trouble catching up;

he thinks, considers

how to be, which way to live

and he put this into words:

'I can still think of a dodge

for this: I've hit on a trick.'

He groped among his tinder

fumbled among his fire-tools

took a tiny bit of flint

quite a small piece of tinder;

into the sea he tosses

them, over his left shoulder.

He says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Let this become a reef, grow

into a hidden island

for the North's craft to run on

the hundred-rowlocked to split

where the sea-storm chafes

where the wave scratches!'

Then it grew into a reef

it turned into a sea-crag

with its longer side eastward

and crossways northward.

The North's craft came hurtling on

through the billow cleaves

and it hits the reef

jammed hard on the crag.

The wooden craft flew apart

the hundred-ribbed smashed;

the masts went splat in the sea

and the sails came tumbling down

to be swept off by the wind

driven by the gale.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

runs on foot in the water

went to raise the craft

to lift up the ship;

43:139-209

but the boat will not come up

nor will the craft budge:

all its ribs had snapped

all its rowlocks splintered too.

She thinks, considers

and she put this into words:

'What is the best plan?

What is to be done?'

Now she changed her shape

dared to become someone else.

She took up five scythes

six hoes past their prime:

she fashioned them into claws

fitted them to be her feet;

the shattered part of the craft

she put under her;

the sides she slapped into wings

the rudder to be her tail;

put a hundred men under a wing

a thousand at her tail tip -

the hundred swordsmen

the thousand fellows who shot.

And she spread her wings to fly

as an eagle lifted off

and she flaps along

heading for Väinämöinen:

one wing flicked the clouds

and one swerved off the water.

The water-mother, fair wife

put this into words:

'Old Väinämöinen

turn your head from underneath the

cast your eyes north-west

look behind you a little!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

turned his head from underneath the

cast his eyes north-west

looked behind him a little:

now the North's dame is coming

the wondrous bird glides along -

as for shoulders, like a hawk

a wivern as for body!

She startles Väinämöinen.

She flew on to the masthead

to the canvas-tree rustled

on top of the post she perched

and the craft all but capsized

the ship nearly keeled over.

Then the smith Ilmarinen

casts himself upon his God

and in his Creator trusts;

he says with this word:

'Keep us, steadfast Creator

and guard us, fair God

lest a boy should come away

and a mother's child should fall

short of the Creator's toll

of the span decreed by God!

O Old Man, God known to all

heavenly father

bring me a fiery fur coat

put on me a blazing shirt

shielded by which I may make

war, and behind which may fight

lest my head should come to grief

and my locks should go to waste

in the sport of bright iron

upon the point of harsh steel!'

As for old Väinämöinen

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Mistress of Northland!

43:210-281

Now will you share the Sampo

on the misty headland's tip

at the foggy island's end?'

The mistress of Northland said:

'No, I'll not share the Sampo

with you, mean one, not

with Väinämöinen!'

She tried to get the Sampo

out of Väinämöinen's boat.

Then wanton Lemminkäinen

snatched the sword out of his belt

wrenched the sharp iron

from his left side; he

lunges at the eagle's feet

and pounds the webbed toes.

Wanton Lemminkäinen struck

he both struck and spoke:

'Down with the men, with the swords

down with the sleepy fellows -

hundreds from under a wing

dozens from a feather tip!'

At that the North's dame declared

from the masthead spoke:

'O you wanton Loverboy

poor Farmind, mean man!

You deceived your own mother

lied to your parent -

said you would not go to war

for six, ten summers

not even for need of gold

even for greed of silver!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

saw that it was time

knew the moment had come. He

drew his paddle from the sea

the oak sliver from the wave:

with it he bashed the woman

struck the claws off the eagle;

the other claws fell to bits

but there was one talon left.

And the boys fell from the wings

the men went splosh in the sea -

a hundred men from under a wing

and a thousand fellows from the tail.

The eagle herself plumped down

clattered upon the rib beams

like a capercaillie from a tree

a squirrel from a spruce bough.

Then she reached for the Sampo

with her ring finger: she dropped

the Sampo in the water

felled all the bright-lid

down over the red craft's side

in the midst of the blue sea;

there the Sampo came to bits

and the bright-lid to pieces.

So some of those bits, those great

fragments of the Sampo went

below the quiet waters

down to the black mud;

they were left for the water

treasures for Ahto-land's folk.

That's why never in this world

not in a month of Sundays

will the water go without

or its Ahto lack treasures.

But some other bits

some smaller fragments were left

on the blue high seas

on the broad sea's waves

for the wind to lull

43:282-355

the billows to drive;

and the wind lulled them

the sea-swell rocked them

on the blue high seas

on the broad sea's waves

and the wind nudged them to land

the billow drove them ashore.

Steady old Väinämöinen

saw the surf pushing

and the spray washing landward

the billow driving ashore

those bits of the dear Sampo

those pieces of the bright-lid.

He was delighted

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Out of this a seed will spring

constant good luck will begin;

from this, ploughing and sowing

from this, every kind of growth

out of this the moon to gleam

the sun of good luck to shine

on Finland's great farms

on Finland's sweet lands!'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I can still think of a dodge for this

think of a dodge, spot a way

for your ploughing, your sowing

for your herds, your things growing

for your gleaming moons

for your shining suns:

I'll thrust the moon in a rock

the sun I'll hide in a cliff;

I'll let the frost bite

the chilly weather delay

your ploughing, sowing

your harvests, your corn;

I'll bring iron hail

steel hail I'll hurl down

upon your good crops

upon your best fields;

I'll raise a bear from the heath

a gap-tooth from the pine sprigs

to crush your geldings

and to kill your mares

and to fell your herds

and lay the cows low;

people I'll kill with disease

I'll slay all your kin

so that nevermore

are they heard of in the world.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'No Lapp sings at me, no man

of Turja shoves me around!

God holds the heavens' mantle

the Creator the keys of good luck:

they're not under envy's arm

not at hatred's fingertip.

If I trust my Creator

and take refuge in my God

he'll keep maggots from my corn

and foes from my wealth

my corn from being grubbed up

and my growing things from being felled

my shoots from being taken

and my wealth from being hurt.

Mistress of Northland:

thrust ruin into a rock

evils press into a cliff

expel pains to a mountain -

but never the moon

not the sun ever!

Let the frost bite, let

43:356-429

the chilly weather

delay your own shoots

the grains you have sown!

Rain down iron hail

steel hail rattle down

upon your own tilth

upon the North's furthest fields

and raise a bear from the heath

from a thicket a fierce cat

from the wilds a hollow-hand

and from beneath a sprig a gap-tooth

for Northland's furthest lane, for

where the North's herd treads!'

Then the mistress of Northland

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Now the power has drained from me

my authority has failed:

my property has foundered

the Sampo smashed in the waves!'

She set off homeward weeping

northward bewailing her luck.

From all the Sampo she got

nothing to speak of for home;

but she did take a little

with her ring finger:

she bore the lid to Northland

brought the handle to Sariola.

And that's why Northland is poor

life in Lapland is breadless.

Steady old Väinämöinen

when he made landfall

found bits of the dear Sampo

and pieces of the bright-lid

upon the shore of the sea

upon the fine sands; he brought

the bits of the dear Sampo

the pieces of the bright-lid

to the misty headland's tip

to the foggy island's end

to grow, to increase

to turn, to thicken

into barley beer

into loaves of rye.

At that old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Grant, Creator, vouchsafe, God

grant that we may be lucky

that we may live well always

that we may die with honour

in Finland the sweet

in Karelia the fair!

Keep us, steadfast Creator

and guard us, fair God

from the whims of men

from the wiles of hags;

overturn the earth-envious

defeat the water-wizards;

be on the side of your sons

always your children's helper

always a support by night

and a protector by day

that the sun may not shine ill

that the moon may not gleam ill

that the wind may not blow ill

that the rain may not rain ill

nor may the frost bite

nor hard weather touch!

Build an iron fence

construct a stronghold of stone

round my property

on both sides of my people

from the ground up to the sky

from the sky down to the ground

for my protection alone

43:430-44:32

for my support, my refuge

that no foe may eat too much

no enemy steal the wealth

ever in this world

not in a month of Sundays!'

44. The Birch Kantele

Steady old Väinämöinen

ponders in his brain:

'Now some music would be good

and some merrymaking right

for this new state of affairs

upon these fair farms;

but the kantele is lost

my joy has gone for ever

to the farm of the fishes

to the crags of the salmon

to the sea-trough's keepers, to

the Wave-wife's eternal folk

nor will it be brought again

nor will Ahto give it back.

Smith Ilmarinen

you forged once, forged yesterday

so forge today too:

forge an iron rake

on the rake a mass of prongs -

a mass of prongs, a long shaft

with which I can rake the waves

fluff up the billows

the sea's reed beds into cocks

all the shores into windrows

to get back the instrument

to reach for the kantele

from the haunt of the fishes

from the crags of the salmon!'

Smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

forged an iron rake

with a copper shaft; he forged

44:33-106

prongs a hundred fathoms long

a shaft of five he prepared.

Then the old Väinämöinen

took the iron rake

and he stepped a tiny way

went a bit of a journey

to the rollers of steel, to

the copper moorings.

There were craft, two craft

two boats were ready

on the rollers of steel, at

the copper moorings:

one craft was a new craft, the

other craft was an old craft.

The old Väinämöinen said

he uttered to the new boat:

'Off now, boat, on the waters

craft, begone on the billows

unturned by an arm

unheld by a thumb!'

And the boat was off on the waters

the craft gone on the billows.

Steady old Väinämöinen

sat down at the stern;

off he went to broom the sea

and to sweep the wave.

He gathers water lilies

he rakes rubbish on the shore

heaped up shreds of reed -

shreds of reed, scraps of bulrush

every trough he raked as well

and all the reefs he harrowed

but did not get, could not find

his instrument of pike-bones

joy gone for ever

the lost kantele.

Steady old Väinämöinen

trudges off homeward

his head down, in bad spirits

helmet all askew;

he told this in words:

'No more will be that

joy of a pike's tooth

fishbone melody!'

As he trod a glade

skirted the edge of backwoods

he heard a birch tree weeping

a curly birch shedding tears.

He went up to it

drew nearer to it

he asked it, he talked:

'Why do you weep, lovely birch

green tree, why do you go on

white-belt, why do you complain

You'll not be taken to war

not be wanted for battle.'

The birch skilfully answered

the green tree uttered:

'Well, some people say

certain people think

that I live in joy

in delight revel;

but lean in my cares

in my longings I ring out

set forth in my suffering-days

in sorrows murmur. Empty

for my silliness I weep

for my shortcomings complain

that I am hapless, wretched

utterly woeful, helpless

in these evil spots

on these vast pastures.

The happy and the lucky

are always hoping

44:107-179

for a fair summer to come

a great summertime to warm

but not silly me:

woe is me, I dread

having my bark stripped

my leafy twigs taken off!

Often in my gloom

and often, a gloomy wretch

children of the fleeting spring

come up close to me

and with five knives slash

my sappy belly open;

evil herdsmen in summer

take my white belt - one for a

drinking-cone, one for a sheath

one for a berry basket.

Often in my gloom

and often, a gloomy wretch

girls stand under me

and romp beside me

cut off foliage

and bind twigs into bath-whisks.

Often in my gloom

and often, a gloomy wretch

I am felled for slash-and-burn

for firewood chopped up:

three times this summer

this great summertime

men have stood under me, have

whetted their axes

to dispatch my luckless head

to end my weak life.

So much for the summer's joy

the great summertime's delight;

but winter is no better

the snow season no sweeter:

always early on

sorrow alters how I look

my head weighs heavy

and my face goes pale

recalling black days

thinking of bad times.

Then the wind brings pains

the frost saddest cares:

the wind takes off my green coat

the frost my fair skirt.

So I with small means

a poor wretched birch

am left quite naked

utterly undressed

to quake in the chill

to howl in the frost.'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Do not weep, green tree

leafy sapling, don't go on

white-belt, don't complain!

You'll get good luck in plenty

a new, sweeter life;

soon you'll be weeping for joy

with delight you will echo.'

Then old Väinämöinen formed

from the birch an instrument

carved it through a summer day

hammered at a kantele

on the misty headland's tip

at the foggy island's end

carved a belly for the kantele

a soundboard for the new joy

a belly out of tough birch

a soundboard of curly birch.

The old Väinämöinen said

he declared, spoke thus:

'Here's a belly for the kantele

44:180-250

a soundboard for the eternal joy;

but where shall the pegs be got

the screws be fetched from?'

An oak grew in a barnyard

a tall tree at a yard's end;

on the oak were shapely boughs

on each bough was an acorn

on the acorn was a golden whorl

on the golden whorl was a cuckoo.

When the cuckoo calls

and utters five words

gold wells from its mouth

and silver pours forth

on a golden knoll

on a silver hill:

from there the kantele's pegs

the screws for the curly birch!

The old Väinämöinen said

he uttered, spoke thus:

'I've got the kantele's pegs

the screws for the curly birch

but still something is missing:

five strings the kantele lacks.

Where should I get the strings from

for it, put on the voices?'

He went in search of a string.

He steps through a glade:

a lassie sat in the glade

a young maiden on the marsh.

The lass was not weeping, nor

indeed was she rejoicing

but just singing to herself:

she sang to pass her evening

hoping a bridegroom would come

thinking about her lover.

Steady old Väinämöinen

yonder crept with no shoes on

without toe-rags* he tiptoed;

then when he got there

he began to beg tresses

and he put this into words:

'Lass, give some of your tresses

damsel, of your hair

for kantele strings

voices of eternal joy!'

The lass gave of her tresses

some of her fine hair;

gave tresses five, six

even seven hairs:

from there the kantele strings

sounders of eternal joy.

The instrument was ready:

at that old Väinämöinen

sits down upon an outcrop

on a stepping-stone; he took

the kantele in his hands

the joy closer to himself;

the head he turned heavenward

propped the shoulder on his knees

pitches the voices

and checks the tuning;

he got the voices pitched, his

instrument in a fit state

turned it till it was under

his hands and across his knees;

he let his ten fingernails

go, he set his five fingers

to dart about on the strings

to leap on the notes.

Then, when old Väinämöinen

played the kantele

44:251-326

with small hands, slender fingers

thumbs curving upward

the curly birch tree uttered

the leafy sapling lilted

the cuckoo's gold called

and the lassie's hair rejoiced.

With his fingers Väinämöinen played

with its strings the kantele rang out:

mountains thundered, boulders boomed

all the cliffs trembled

rocks lapped upon waves

gravels on waters floated

the pines made merry

stumps leapt on the heaths.

Kaleva's sisters-in-law

while they were embroidering

they ran there as a river

all rushed as a stream -

young women with smiling lips

mistresses in merry mood

to listen to the music

marvel at the merriment.

What men were nearby

were all cap in hand;

what hags were nearby

were all hand on cheek;

daughters with tears in their eyes

sons down on their knees

listened to the kantele

marvelled at the merriment.

They said with one voice

found a single tongue:

'Never before was

such sweet music heard

never in this world

not in a month of Sundays!'

It is heard, the fine music

was heard in six villages

and there was no animal

that did not come to listen

to that sweet music

the sound of the kantele;

what beasts were in the forest

crouched on their claws to

listen to the kantele

marvel at the merriment;

the flying birds of the air

gathered upon twigs

and all manner of fishes

crowded on the shore;

the very earthworms

moved to the top of the mould -

they turned, they listened

to that sweet music, to the

kantele's eternal joy

Väinämöinen's tune.

There the old Väinämöinen

played finely indeed

and rang out beautifully;

he played one day, he played two

starting only once

after one morning's breakfast

one tying on of his belt

one putting on of his shirt.

When he played at home

in his room of fir

the rafters echoed

the floorboards thudded

the loft beams sang, the doors creaked

all the windows made merry

the hearth of stone moved

the curly-birch post chanted;

when he walked among spruces

and roamed among pines

the spruces bowed down

the pines on the hill turned round

44:327-45:32

the cones rolled upon the lea

the sprigs showered down on the root;

when he wandered in a grove

or tripped in a glade

the groves played a game

the glades were glad all the time

the flowers had a fling

the young saplings bobbed about.

45. Death's Daughter Gives Birth

Louhi, mistress of Northland

got wind of the news

that Väinö-land was thriving

Kalevala flourishing

on the Sampo bits it got

the pieces of the bright-lid.

She was very envious

and she keeps thinking

what doom she could bring about

which death she could carry out

on those folk of Väinö-land

those Kalevala people

and she prays to the Old Man

she worships the Thunderer:

'O Old Man, chief god

strike down Kaleva's people

with iron hailstones

with steel-tipped needles;

or else with disease kill them

and slay the mean kin -

the men in the long yards, the

women upon the byre floors!'

A girl there was of Tuonela, blind

Pit-daughter, an old woman

the worst of Tuoni's daughters

wickedest of death-daughters

the source of all ills

a thousand downfalls;

she had a swarthy face, a

skin of loathsome hue.

Well, that black girl of Tuoni

the sightless one of the depths

45:33-103

made her bed upon a road

her litter on evil land

lay with her back to the wind

her side to the rough weather

her rear to the chilly blast

and her front to the daybreak.

There came a great gust of wind

out of the east a big squall

that blew the bad one with child

wetted her till her womb swelled

in a barren glade

upon land without hummocks.

She bore a hard womb

a difficult bellyful;

she bore it for two, three months

a fourth and a fifth as well

for seven, eight months

round about nine months

and by old wives' reckoning

half of a tenth month.

At the ninth month's end

the beginning of the tenth

her womb becomes hard

presses till it hurts;

but no birth is born

no creatures are created.

She shifted her place

she put herself somewhere else;

the whore went to breed

the scarlet woman to teem

in a gap between two cliffs

a chasm between five mountains;

but no, there no birth is born

no creature is created.

She sought a place to give birth

land to unload her belly

in a moving mire

in a spilling spring;

but there she found no place, no

unloading for her belly.

She made to bring forth her brood

made to unload her belly

in a fiery rapid's foam

a swirl of mighty water

beneath a waterfall of

three rapids, beneath nine brinks;

and yet still no birth is born

the wretch's womb will not ease.

The nightmare began to weep

and the evil freak to scream:

she does not know where to go

which way she ought to walk, to

unload her belly

and to breed her sons.

Out of a cloud God spoke, the

Creator declared from heaven:

'There is a shack on a swamp

hard by the seashore

there in dark Northland

in murky Sariola:

go that way to breed

and to ease your womb!

There you are needed

and your brood is awaited.'

Well, that black girl of Tuoni

wicked lass of the Dead Land

came towards Northland's cabins

Sariola's sauna-lands

to bring forth her brats

to have her offspring.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

45:104-176

the gap-toothed hag of the North

led her to the sauna secretly

stealthily to the bath-hut

unheard by the locals, with

no word reaching the village.

She heated the sauna secretly

hurriedly she settled her;

with beer smeared the doors

wetted the hinges with ale

so that the doors did not creak

nor the hinges squeal.

Then she put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'O dame, nature's girl

woman of gold, handsome one

who are the eldest of wives

the first of matrons:

run knee-deep into the sea

up to your belt in the wave

take a ruff's slaver

slime from a burbot

to smear between bones

to stroke along sides

free a wench from a tight spot

a woman from belly-throes

from this harsh pain, this

difficult belly-labour!

'Should not enough come of that

O Old Man, chief god

come here when you are needed

go this way when you are called!

Here's a wench in a tight spot

a woman in belly-throes

amid smoke in the sauna

the village bath-hut.

Take up a golden

club in your right hand:

with it shatter bars

and break the doorposts

dislodge the Creator's locks

and snap off the inner bolts

for the great to go, the small

to go, the puny to pass!'

There that abomination

the sightless girl of Tuoni

unloaded her belly, brought

forth her hateful brats

beneath a copper-bright cloak

a fine-woven bed curtain:

she produced nine sons

in one summer night

with one stir of steam

one heating of the sauna

from one belly-brood

from one hard wombful.

And she named her sons

got her brats ready

as anyone would her young,

creatures she has hatched herself:

this one she stuck to be stitch

that one called to be colic

this she goaded to be gout

that to be rickets she raised

this bullied to be a boil

that screwed up to be a scab

this to be cancer she kicked

that she punched to be the plague.

One was left unnamed, the son

down at the litter's bottom:

him she bade yonder

thrust to be water-wizards

witches in the marshy depths

and the envious everywhere.

45:177-249

Louhi, mistress of Northland

bade the others go yonder

to the misty headland's tip

to the foggy island's end;

she inflamed the cross creatures

thrust the wayward diseases

against Väinö-land's folk, to

slay Kaleva's kin.

And Väinö-land's sons sicken

Kaleva's people languish

with the wayward diseases

whose names are unknown:

beneath them floors rot

above the cover decays.

Then the old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

went to free their heads

to ransom their lives

went forth to war with Tuoni

and to battle with disease:

he got the sauna heated

and the stones steaming

with wood that was clean

with faggots brought by water;

he took water in hiding

he brought bath-whisks underhand

he warmed the ready bath-whisks

the hundred-leaved he softened;

then he stirred up mead-sweet steam

honey-sweet steam he wafted

up through the hot stones

the burning boulders.

He says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Come now into the steam, God

sky-father, into the warm

to bring about health

and to make for peace;

wipe away the holy sparks

and the holy ills put out

beat down wicked steam

bad steam send away

so it will not scald your sons

spoil those you have made!

What water I fling

upon these hot stones

may it change into honey

trickle into mead;

may a honeyed river run

a pool of mead splash

up through the stone hearth

up through the mossy sauna!

We'll not be eaten without

cause, nor killed without disease

unless the great Creator

allows, unless God slays us.

Who would eat us without cause

into his mouth his own words

on his head his evil plans

and his thoughts back on himself!

If I am not man enough

nor fellow enough the Old Man's son

to take away jinxes, to

free us from seizures

then the Old Man himself is -

he who keeps the clouds

dwells in a fair-weather cloud

governs among the vapours.

O Old Man, chief god

god above the clouds

come here when you are needed

make your way when you are asked

to feel out these pains

45:250-322

to oust these days of trouble

to take away these jinxes

and to relieve these attacks;

bring me a fiery

sword, a sparkling brand bear me

with which I will hold off ills

set the wicked for ever

the pains along the wind's roads

aches into wide open glades!

Yonder I drive aches

yonder banish pains -

into stone cellars

into iron cairns

to make the rocks ache

to make the boulders suffer:

no rock weeps for aches

no boulder complains of woes

though much were put upon it

any amount dumped on it.

'Ache-girl, Tuoni's maid

sitting upon the ache-rock

where three rivers run

where three waters part

grinding the ache-quern

making Mount Ache turn:

go and gather up the aches

in the jaws of the blue rock

or roll them in the water

hurl them into the sea's deep

where the wind will not find them

nor the sun shine upon them!

'Should not enough come of that

Ache-daughter, kindly mistress

Injury-daughter, choice wife

come along, go together

to bring about health

and to make for peace;

make the aches acheless

the injuries untrembling

that the sick may get some sleep

the ill some rest free from care

the one in pain an hour's pause

the one hurt some exercise;

take the aches in a casket

the woes in a copper box

to carry the aches yonder

to lead the injuries tame

to the middle of Ache Hill

the peak of Mount Ache

and there cook the aches

in a tiny pan

in which one finger will go

and a thumb will fit!

There's a rock on the hillside

a hole in the rock

that has been drilled with a drill

pierced with a borer:

there the aches will be dragged off

the bad injuries confined

and the harsh pains will be thrust

and the days of suffering pressed

so that they can try nothing

by night, nor get out by day.'

At that old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

went on to anoint the hurts

and to treat those injuries

with the nine ointments

the eight remedies;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'O Old Man, chief god

heavenly ancient

45:323-362

rear a cloud out of the east

raise a bank from the north-west

and from the west send a wisp:

rain honey, rain down water

to be ointments for the aches

treatments for the injuries!

I can do nothing if my

Creator will not allow:

may the Creator give help

and may God bring help

to one I've seen with my eyes

to one I've laid my hands on

one I've talked to with sweet lips

one I've breathed on with my breath!

And where my hands are not laid

may the hands of God be laid;

where my fingers don't avail

may the Lord's fingers avail:

the Lord's are fairer fingers

the Creator's palms nimble.

Come now, Creator, to sing

charms, O God, to recite spells,

Almighty, to look after:

make healthy by night

and hearty by day, so that

no pain will be felt above

no ache will ache in the midst

nor suffering weigh on the heart -

not even a tiny, not

even a slight woe

ever in this world

not in a month of Sundays!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

with that took away jinxes

and relieved attacks;

he removed curses

he healed victims of ill-will

he freed the people from death

Kaleva's from being lost.

46. The Bear

The news reached Northland

the knowledge the cold village

that Väinö-land had pulled through

that Kalevala was free

from those hurts that had been raised

from those wayward diseases.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

the gap-toothed hag of the North

she took that badly;

she uttered a word, spoke thus:

'I can still think of another way

I know yet a different road:

I'll raise a bear* from the heath

from the wilds a hollow-hand

against Väinö-land's livestock

the herd of Kalevala.'

She raised a bear from the heath

a bruin from the harsh lands

for those glades of Väinö-land

herd-lands of Kalevala.

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Brother, smith Ilmarinen

forge me a new spear

forge a spear of three edges

with a copper shaft!

There's a Beast to be taken

a precious-pelt to be felled -

stopped from crushing my geldings

going for my mares

from felling my herd

laying the cows low.'

And the smith forges a spear;

not a long nor a short one -

he forged one of middling sort:

a wolf stood upon its edge

a bruin where the blade was

an elk skied around the joint

a foal wandered on the shaft

a reindeer kicked on the handle's tip.

Then there was a fresh snowfall:

somewhat fine flakes fell -

an autumn ewe's worth

worth a winter hare.

The old Väinämöinen said

he uttered, spoke thus:

'I have a good mind -

a mind to range Forestland

to visit the forest girls

the yards of the blue wenches.

I go from men forestward

from fellows to outdoor work:

take me, forest, for one of your men

for one of your fellows, Tapio;

help me to have luck

to fell the forest's fair one!

Mielikki, forest mistress

Tellervo, Tapio's wife

tie your dog up tight

and put up your cur

in a honeysuckle lane

in an oaken frame!

'Beast, apple of the forest

chunky honey-paw

when you hear me coming, a

real man stepping

tie your claws up in your fur

your teeth in your gums

46:69-141

so that they never touch me

when you make a lunge!

My Beastie, my matchless one

honey-paw, my handsome one

slump down upon a hummock

upon a fair rock

with pines swaying overhead

spruces rustling overhead:

there, Beast, circle round and round

honey-paw, turn round and round

like the grouse upon its nest

the goose on its brood!'

There the old Väinämöinen

heard the dog barking

the pup holding forth out loud

the beady-eye in the yard

the smooth-snout in the barnyard.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'I thought it was the cuckoo

calling, the love-bird singing;

but it was not the cuckoo

calling, the love-bird singing:

here's my most splendid dog, my

most excellent animal

at the Beastie's cabin door

and in the fair man's farmyard!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

there killed the Beastie;

the lawn beds he laid low, the

golden places overturned.

He says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Be thanked, God, be praised

alone, Creator, that you

gave the Beast for my portion

the backwoods' gold for my catch!'

He looks at his golden one;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'My Beastie, my matchless one

honey-paw, my handsome one

don't be angry without cause!

It was not I that felled you:

you rolled off the collar-bow

yourself, toppled off the log

tearing your wooden breeches

splitting your pine coat.

Autumn weather's slippery

and the cloudy days are dark:

golden forest cuckoo, fair

one with fur luxuriant

leave your home cold now

the land where you live empty

your home of birch boughs

your abode of basket twigs;

go, famous one, on your way

pride of the forest, step out

get moving, nimble of shoe

blue of stocking, on tiptoe

from these little yards

these narrow alleys

to be among the fellows

to be in a crowd of men!

No one there is ill treated

nor made to live like a wretch:

mead is fed there, fresh

honey is given to drink

to the guest who comes

to the would-be visitor.

Go now from here after all

from this little den, and go

under the famous roof beam

under the fair roof;

float upon the snow, like

46:142-212

water lily on a pool

flit upon a sprig

like a squirrel on a bough!'

Then the old Väinämöinen

the everlasting singer

stepped through glades making music

on heaths echoing

with his famous guest

his shaggy bundle, until

the music was heard indoors

under the roofs the echo.

The folk in the cabin spoke

and the fair people lilted:

'Listen to that noise, the words

of the player in the woods

the prattle of the crossbill

the forest wench's whistling!'

Steady old Väinämöinen

made it to the yard.

The folk indoors blurted out

the fair people talked:

'Is the golden one walking

the silver one wandering

the precious dear stepping, the

pennyworth picking his way?

Has the forest given Honeyman

the master of the backwoods

the lynx, that you come singing

ski along humming?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

at that put this into words:

'For words the otter

has been got, for tales God's wealth:

that is why we come singing

ski along humming.

But 'tis no otter at all

not an otter nor a lynx:

'tis the famous one walking

the pride of the woods stepping

the ancient man wandering

the broadcloth-coated strolling.

If our guest is allowed in

fling the doors open

but if the guest is hated

slam them firmly shut!'

The folk answering

say, the fair people lilted:

'Hail, Beast, and welcome

honey-paw, arrived

in these well-washed yards

in these fair farmyards!

This I've hoped for all my days

looked for all my growing-time -

that Tapio's trump would sound

that the forest's pipe would shrill

that the forest's gold would walk

that the woods' silver would come

to these little yards

these narrow alleys.

I've hoped as for a good year

looked as for summer's coming

just as a ski for new snow

a left ski for smooth going

a maid for a young bridegroom

one with red cheeks for a mate.

Evenings I sat at windows

mornings upon the shed steps

at the gates for weeks

for months at the lanes' entrance

whole winters in the barnyards;

I stood till the snows gave way

46:213-282

to ground, the ground to soft soils

soft soils to gravels

gravels to fine sands

fine sands till they bloomed.

I wondered mornings on end

whole days I puzzled my head

where the Beast so long lingered

the backwoods' dear one tarried:

had he strolled to Estonia

and trotted out of Finland?'

At that old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Which way shall I lead my guest

convey my darling;

shall I set him in the barn

put him in the litter-house?'

The folk answering

say, the fair people lilted:

'Yonder you shall lead our guest

convey our darling -

under the famous roof beam

under the fair roof.

There foods have been made ready

and drinking vessels laid out

and all the boards wiped

and swept all the floors;

all the women are

dressed up in clean clothes

in handsome headgear

and in white dresses.'

At that old Väinämöinen

uttered and spoke thus:

'My Beastie, my little bird

honey-paw, my little lump

there's still land for you to walk

heath for you to clamber on:

go now, darling, on your way

dear one, tread the land

black of stocking, take a trip

broadcloth-breeches, take a stroll

down the paths of the tomtit

in the haunts of the sparrow

under five rafters

under six roof beams!

'Beware, wretched wives

lest your herd should scare

your little wealth shy

the mistress's wealth be hurt

as the Beast arrives

Whiskers thrusts his way!

Boys, get out of the doorway

wenches, go from the doorposts

as the fellow comes indoors

the real man steps inside!

'Forest Beastie, apple, fair

chunky one of the forest

don't fear the wenches

don't be scared of the braid-heads

and don't beware of the wives

don't grieve for wrinkled stockings!

What hags are indoors

are all in the inglenook

as the man comes in

as the big boy steps inside!'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Welcome here too, God

under the famous roof beam

under the fair roof! -

Where shall I leave my charmer

put down my shaggy bundle?'

46:283-354

And the folk answering say:

'Hail, hail and welcome!

Lay your little bird down here

convey your darling

to the pine bench end

the iron seat's tip

for his coat to be fingered

for his fur to be looked at!

'Don't worry, Beast, about that

and don't take it ill

if the hour of the coat comes

the looking-time of the fur!

Your coat won't be spoilt, your fur

won't be looked out to become

flounces for the flighty, clothes

for the woebegone.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

had the Beast's coat taken off

put it up in the shed loft;

he laid the meat in a pan

a gilded copper

in a copper-bottomed pot.

Now the pots were on the fire

the copper-brims on the flame;

they were crammed, filled with

lots of bits of meat.

Lumps of salt had been thrown in:

they'd been brought from further off -

the salt got from Germany

the White Sea of Archangel

rowed through the Salt Straits

let down off a ship.

When the stew was stewed

and the pans got off the fire

the catch was carried

the crossbill conveyed

to the long deal table's head

to golden dishes

for a sip of mead

for a draught of beer.

Of pine the table was made

and the bowls cast in copper

the spoons in silver

the knives wrought in gold;

the cups were all brimming, the

bowls to the bulwarks

with the forest's pleasant gifts

with the dear backwoods' catches.

At that old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Golden-breasted old mound-man

master of Tapio's house

Forestland's honey-sweet wife

the forest's kindly mistress

clear-skinned man, Tapio's son

clear-skinned man in the red cap

Tellervo, Tapio's maid

Tapio's other folk too:

come to your ox's wedding

to the feast of your long-wool!

Now there is enough ready -

enough to eat and to drink

enough to keep for yourselves

enough to give the village.'

Thereupon the folk speak thus

and the fair people lilted:

'Where was the Beast born

where did the precious-pelt grow;

was he born on straw, or did he grow

in the sauna inglenook?'

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

46:355-426

'The Beast is not born on straw

nor upon kiln chaff:

there the Beast was given birth

the honey-paw was turned round -

in the moon, in the sun's cleft

upon the Great Bear's shoulders

where the air's lasses live, where

nature's daughters are.

A lass stepped at the sky's rim

and a maid at heaven's pole

walked along a cloud's circle

and along heaven's border

in stockings that were bluish

in bright well-heeled shoes

a box of wool in her hand

a sewing-basket under her arm.

She flung wool on the waters

dropped a thread upon the waves

and the wind lulled it

the wanton air wafted it

the sea breeze swung it

the billow drove it ashore

to the mead-sweet backwoods' shore

a honey-sweet headland's tip.

'Mielikki, forest mistress

Tapiola's careful wife

grabbed the bunch from the waters

and the fine wool from the waves

and then she laid it swiftly

swaddled it beautifully

in a basket of maple

in a fair cradle;

she had the swaddle-cords raised

the chains of gold she conveyed

to the lushest bough

to the widest leafy twig

and she lulled the one she knew

rocked her beloved

beneath a shock-headed spruce

beneath a bushy pine tree:

there she brought forth the Beastie

brought up him of noble pelt

beside a mead-sweet thicket

inside honey-sweet backwoods.

The Beast grew beautifully

came up to be most graceful -

short his leg, buckled his knee

a chubby smooth-snout

his head wide and his nose snub

his fur fair, luxuriant;

but as yet he had no teeth

nor had his claws been fashioned.

'Mielikki, forest mistress

put this into words:

"I would fashion claws for him

teeth too I would fetch

if he were to do no harm

and get up to no mischief."

So the Beast swore an oath at

the forest mistress's knees

before the God known to all

beneath the Almighty's face

that he would work no mischief

undertake no ugly deeds.

Mielikki, forest mistress

Tapiola's careful wife

went off in search of a tooth

and to ask for claws

from sturdy rowans

from tough junipers

from knotty tree roots

from hard tarry stumps;

46:427-498

but from there she got no claw

neither did she find a tooth.

'A fir tree grew on the heath

a spruce on a mound came up

on the fir a silver bough

a golden bough on the spruce:

the girl took them with her hands

from them fashioned claws

and fixed them in the jawbone

in the gums set them.

Then she let her lazybones

go, sent her pet out;

she put him to rove a swamp

to beat his way through thicket

to step along a glade side

to clamber upon the heath.

She told him to walk nicely

to trot prettily

to live merry times

to spend the days famously

on open swamps, amid lands

on the furthest playing-heaths

to walk shoeless in summer

in autumn sockless;

through the worse seasons to dwell

to endure the winter chills

in a bird cherry cabin

skirted by a pine stronghold

at the foot of a fine spruce

under a juniper's arm

beneath five woollen

cloaks, beneath eight capes.

That's where I have got my catch

and brought this prey of mine from.'

The young folk speak thus

the old folk utter:

'What action pleased the forest -

pleased the forest, charmed the wilds

delighted the woods' master

and bent matchless Tapio

that he gave his peerless one

and dispatched his Honeyman:

was it a spear's finding, or

an arrow's fetching?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'We greatly pleased the forest -

pleased the forest, charmed the wilds

delighted the woods' master

and bent matchless Tapio.

Mielikki, forest mistress

Tellervo, Tapio's maid

the forest maid fair of face

the forest wench so tiny

went pointing the path

and blazing the trail

marking the sides of the path

and teaching the way: she carved

notches all along the trees

blazed a trail upon the slopes

to the noble Beastie's doors

to the money-island's shores.

Then, when I got there

when I reached my goal

there was no spear's finding, no

aimed shot striking home: he rolled

off the collar-bow himself

toppled off the log;

the brushwood broke his breastbone

the twigs shattered his belly.'

Then he put this into words

he declared, spoke thus:

46:499-572

'My Beastie, my matchless one

my little bird, my sweet pet:

take off now, here, your head-dress

splice up your snappers

cast out your few teeth

shut up your wide jaws

and don't take badly

whatever occurs to us -

bone-crunch, head-crack, loud

clattering of teeth!

I take the Beast's nose

to help my own nose;

but I don't take to leave him

bereft, or me with but one.

I take the Beast's ear

to help my own ear;

but I don't take to leave him

bereft, or me with but one.

I take the Beast's eye

to help my own eye;

but I don't take to leave him

bereft, or me with but one.

I take the Beast's brow

to help my own brow;

but I don't take to leave him

bereft, or me with but one.

I take the Beast's snout

to help my own snout;

but I don't take to leave him

bereft, or me with but one.

I take the Beast's tongue

to help my own tongue;

but I don't take to leave him

bereft, or me with but one.

Now I would call him a man

I'd reckon him a fellow

who could count up the chompers

get the row of teeth

out of the steel jaw

with his iron fists.'

But no other came at all

there was not such a fellow.

He counts the chompers himself

tells the row of teeth

below his kneebones

his fists of iron.

He took the teeth of the Beast;

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Forest Beastie, apple, fair

chunky one of the forest

now there's a journey for you

to make, and a trip to take

from this little den

this lowly abode

to a higher home

a vaster dwelling:

go now, darling, on your way

precious dear, treading

beside the pigs' paths

across piglets' tracks

up the scrubby hill

to the high mountain

to a bushy pine

a fir with a hundred sprigs!

'Tis good for you to be there

sweet for you to tarry there

within earshot of a bell

where cowbells tinkle.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

now came home from there.

The young folk speak thus

and the fair folk talked:

'Where have you carried your catch

which way have you brought your prey:

46:573-644

have you left him on the ice

or drowned him in slush

or smothered him in a swamp

or buried him in the heath?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I've not left him on the ice

or drowned him in slush:

there the dogs would disturb him

the wicked birds would hide him;

nor smothered him in a swamp

or buried him in the heath:

there the maggots would spoil him

and the black ants would eat him.

Yonder I've carried my catch

I have brought my little prey -

to the golden knoll's peak, to

the copper ridge's shoulders;

I've put him on a clean tree

a fir with a hundred sprigs

on the lushest bough

on the widest leafy twig

to gladden mankind

and to honour those who pass.

I've put him with gums eastward

placed him with eyes north-westward.

Nor right at the top:

had I placed him at the top

there the wind would spoil him, the

gale would do him wrong;

nor yet put him on the ground:

had I put him on the ground

the pigs there would disturb him

the low-snouts would root for him.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

burst into song, to

honour the famous evening

to gladden the closing day;

the old Väinämöinen said

he declared, spoke thus:

'Hold your flame now, splint

so that I may see to sing!

The hour comes to sing

and my mouth longs to ring out.'

And there he both sang and played

made merry all evening long;

he declared at his song's end

uttered finally:

'Grant again, O God

next time, steadfast Creator

that this may be thus enjoyed

may be done again -

this, the buxom boy's wedding

and the feast of the long-wool!

Grant always, O God

and again, true Creator

that trails may be blazed

that trees may be notched

among the fellows

in a crowd of men;

grant always, O God

and again, true Creator

that Tapio's trump may sound

that the forest's pipe may shrill

in these little yards

these narrow farmyards!

Days I'd give up to music

evenings to merrymaking

on these lands, mainlands

on Finland's great farms

among the youngsters rising

among the people growing.'

47. Fire from Heaven

Steady old Väinämöinen

played the kantele

long, both played and sang

rejoiced in other ways too.

The music rang in the moon's cabins

the joy at the sun's windows:

the moon comes from its cabin

stepped on to a birch's crook

and the sun emerged from its stronghold

squatted on top of a pine

to hear the kantele, to

marvel at the merriment.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

the gap-toothed hag of the North

then lays hold of the sun, caught

the moon with her hands

the moon from the birch's crook

and the sun from the pine's top

and she brought them straight

home to dark Northland.

She hid the moon from gleaming

within a bright-breasted rock

she sang the sun from shining

into a mountain of steel

and there she spoke thus:

'Don't get out of here alone

don't rise, moon, to gleam

and don't get out, sun, to shine

unless I go and let you

out, come and raise you myself

with nine stallions borne

by a single mare!'

When she had conveyed the moon

and had brought the sun

into Northland's rocky hill

into the cliff of iron

she stole the flame, the

fire from Väinö-land's cabins

and the cabins lost their fire

and the rooms their flame;

and now it was night

perpetual, long, pitch dark night

in Kalevala

those cabins of Väinö-land

and yonder in heaven, where

the Old Man of the sky sits.

It is hard to be fireless

and great woe to be flameless -

tiresome for mankind, tiresome

even for the Old Man too.

That Old Man, chief god

he, the sky's great creator

began at that to feel strange;

he thinks, considers

what wonder blocks out the moon

what fog is in the sun's way

that the moon gleams not at all

and the sun shines not at all.

He stepped along a cloud's rim

and along heaven's border

in stockings that were bluish

in bright well-heeled shoes;

he went in search of the moon

and to catch the sun, but he

cannot find the moon at all

cannot catch the sun at all.

He struck fire, the sky's Old Man

and he flashed forth flame

47:69-141

with a sword of fiery blade

with a sparkling brand;

struck fire on his fingernail

made it crackle on his limb

in heaven on high

level with the firmament.

Yes, he got fire by striking

and he hides the spark of fire

in a golden purse

in a silver case

and he had a maid lull it

a lass of the air wag it

to form a new moon

to start a new sun.

The maid on a long cloud's top

the lass upon the sky's brink

she lulled that fire, she

wagged that little flame

in a gold cradle

in a silver sling:

the silver beams sagged

and the gold cradle jingled

the clouds squirmed, the heavens mewed

the lids of heaven tilted

as the fire was lulled

as the little flame was wagged.

The lass lulled the fire

wagged the little flame

trimmed the fire with her fingers

cherished the flame with her hands;

but the silly girl dropped the

fire, the careless girl the flame

from her hands, the one who turned

from her fingers, she who trimmed.

Heaven was split into holes

the sky all into windows:

the spark of fire broke away

the red tine whizzed off -

down through the heavens it spilled

and pierced the clouds flickering

through the nine heavens

clove the six bright lids.

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Brother, smith Ilmarinen

let us go and look

let's get there and learn

what that fire is which has come

that strange flame which has tumbled

out of the heavens above

down to mother earth -

whether it is the moon's ring

or else the sun's disc!'

And off the two fellows went;

they stepped, considered

how they might get there

and which way might reach

the spots where the fire shifted

the lands where the flame poured down.

They came upon a river

like a sea to reckon with

and there old Väinämöinen

began to carve at a boat

to tap out one in the wilds;

next the smith Ilmarinen

made paddles of spruce

solid rods of pine.

The little boat was finished

with its rowlocks, with its oars;

so they launched the boat.

They row along, speed along

round Neva's river

and they skirt Neva's headland.

Air-daughter the lovely lass

47:142-212

eldest of nature's daughters

she comes to meet them

chattering, talking:

'What manner of men are you

and what are you called?'

The old Väinämöinen said:

'We are mariners;

I am old Väinämöinen

he's the smith Ilmarinen.

But say who your own kin are

and what you are called!'

The wife put this into words:

'I am the eldest of wives

eldest of the air's lasses

the first of matrons

who has five wives' finery

the face of six brides.

Which way are you going, men

where are you off to, fellows?'

The old Väinämöinen said

he uttered, spoke thus:

'Our fire has gone out

our flame has died down.

Long we have been without fire

hidden in darkness:

now we have a mind to go

and find out about the fire

which has come from heaven

fallen off the clouds.'

The wife put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'Fire's harsh to find out about

so is flame to ask about:

the fire has done deeds

and the flame has wrought damage!

The spark of fire flared

the red ball fell from the halls

the Creator created

and the sky's Old Man beat out -

fell through level heaven

cleaving that clear sky

piercing the mucky smoke-hole

past the dry roof beam

to Thor's new cabin

the Worshipful's boundless one.

Then, when it got there

to Thor's new cabin

it set about evil work

it started on dirty work -

broke the breasts of the daughters

fingered the maidens' nipples

it spoilt the son's knees

singed the master's beard. There was

a mother suckling her child

in a woebegone cradle:

when it got to it the fire

now did the worst job -

burnt the child in the cradle

and burnt the mother's bosom.

The child went to Death

yes, the boy to Tuonela

who'd been born only to die

looked after but to be lost

in the pain of fire the red

in the hardship of white flame.*

The mother knew better, she

did not go to Death:

she knew how to banish fire

and how to tame flame

through a little needle-eye

cleaving an axe-poll

47:213-284

piercing a hot ice-pick's slot

along a field edge.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

he hastened to ask:

'Where did the fires go from there

where did the sparks dash

after Thor's field edge -

to the forest or to sea?'

The woman answering says

she uttered, spoke thus:

'When from there the fire

went and the flame whirled

at first it burnt many lands -

many lands and many swamps;

finally it plunged in the water

in the billows of Lake Alue:

this nearly caught fire

and as sparks glistened.

Three times in a summer night

nine times in an autumn night

it foamed high as the spruces

roared up to the brims

in the hands of that harsh fire

in the force of that hot flame;

it foamed and stranded its fish

on ledges its perch.

At that the fish look

the perch consider

how to be, which way to live

and the perch wept for its sheds

the fish for their little farms

the ruff for its rock stronghold.

A crook-necked perch went

and reached for the tine of fire

but the perch did not get it.

So a bluish whitefish went:

it swallowed the tine of fire

it gulped the flame down.

Now Lake Alue turned back

to water, came off its brim

to where it had been before

in one summer night.

'A little time passed:

pain came to the swallower

and hardship to the guiper

suffering to the big eater.

It swam about, swashed about;

it swam one day, it swam two

beside the whitefish islands

in between the salmon crags

past a thousand headlands' tips

below a hundred islands.

Every headland gave advice

every island brought the news:

"In the quiet water, in

anguished Alue there's none

to swallow the wretched fish

to lose the mean one

in these pains of fire

in these woes of flame."

'So a pale trout heard

swallowed that bluish whitefish.

A little time passed:

pain came to the swallower

and hardship to the guiper

suffering to the big eater.

It swam about, swashed about;

it swam one day, it swam two

in between the salmon crags

among the pike's farms

past a thousand headlands' tips

below a hundred islands.

47:285-356

Every headland gave advice

every island brought the news:

"In the quiet water, in

anguished Alue there's none

to gobble the wretched fish

to lose the mean one

in the pains of burning fire

in the woes of flame."

'A grizzled pike came

swallowed that pale trout.

A little time passed:

pain came to the swallower

and hardship to the guiper

suffering to the big eater.

It swam about, swashed about;

it swam one day, it swam two

betwixt the gull-crags

past the sea-mew's rocky reefs

past a thousand headlands' tips

below a hundred islands.

Every headland gave advice

every island brought the news:

"In the quiet water, in

anguished Alue there's none

to swallow the wretched fish

to lose the mean one

in the pains of burning fire

in the woes of flame."'

Steady old Väinämöinen

next the smith Ilmarinen

weave a seine of bast

click up one of juniper

dyed it with willow waters

with goat willow bark made it.

Steady old Väinämöinen

put the women to the seine:

the women went to the seine

and the sisters to lug it.

They row and they glide

by headland and by island

betwixt salmon crags

and beside whitefish islands

to a brown reed-bed

a bed of fair bulrushes:

they try and they trap

they pull and they ply

they cast the seine upside down

they pull it in wrong

and they do not catch the fish

which they vie to trap.

The brothers launched out

the husbands go to the seine:

they coax and they cast

they pull and they pitch

at bay mouths, crag tops

at Kaleva's rocky reefs;

but they do not catch that fish -

the one they needed.

The grizzled pike would not come

from the bay's quiet waters

nor from the great main:

fishes are small, meshes few.

Now at that the fish complained;

a pike says to the pike-folk

a whitefish asked an ide, a

salmon another salmon:

'Have they died, the famous men

have Kaleva's sons been lost -

knitters of the hempen seine

makers of the net of yarn

wielders of the great beater

workers of the long handle?'

47:357-48:32

The old Väinämöinen heard

and he put this into words:

'No, the fellows have not died

Kaleva's people fallen:

one has died, two have been born

who have better beaters, who

have handles a span longer

and seines twice more terrible.'

48. Fishing for Fire

Steady old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

from that comes to the idea

arrives at the thought

of weaving a seine of hemp

making up a hundred-mesh;

now he put this into words

he declared, spoke thus:

'Is there a sower of hemp

one who sows, who ploughs

for me to prepare a net

and to get a hundred-mesh

one to kill the wretched fish

to lose the mean one?'

A bit of land is

found, a spot not scorched

on the largest open swamp

between two tree stumps;

a stump root is dug out, there

a hemp seed was found

in Tuoni's maggot's hideout

in the earthworm's hoard.

There was a heap of cinders

and a pile of dry ashes

where a craft of wood had burnt

a boat had smouldered;

there the hemp was sown

and into the dust was ploughed

upon Alue lakeshore

in a clayey field:

there and then a shoot arose

flax sprouted immense

48:33-105

and enormous hemp came up

in one summer night.

By night the hemp was

sown, by moonlight it was ploughed

it was cleaned, swingled

was pulled up, rippled

sharply it was wrenched

smartly it was dressed;

the hemp was retted

and soon the retting was done

and swiftly it was hung up

and hurriedly it was dried;

it was brought straight home

and soon it was hulled;

briskly it was braked

nimbly it was scutched

keenly it was combed

at dusk it was brushed

straight away bunched up

more swiftly on a distaff

in one summer night

in between two days.

The sisters spin it

the sisters-in-law thread it

the brothers weave it into a net

the fathers-in-law put it on ropes;

and then how the needle turned

the drawknife returned

as the seine was got ready

and the toils of yarn prepared

in one summer night -

even half of that!

Well, the seine was got ready

and the toils of yarn prepared

its bag a hundred fathoms

and its wings seven hundred;

they gave it sinkers sweetly

and floats fittingly.

The youngsters go to the seine

and the old at home wonder:

will they really catch

what they want to trap?

They pull and they pitch

they trap, they travail

they pull along the water

they coax across the water:

they catch a few fish -

some ruff, mere tiddlers

some perch, bony ones

some roach, bitter ones;

but they did not catch that fish

the seine was made for.

The old Väinämöinen said:

'Smith Ilmarinen

let us go yonder ourselves

and launch with the nets!'

And off the two fellows went

took their nets and launched

one seine-wing was slung

to an island on the main

and the other wing was slung

to a meadow jutting out

and the warp was made fast to

old Väinö's moorings.

They coax and they cast

they pull and they pitch:

they catch fish enough -

some bass and some perch

gillaroo, sewin

some bream, some salmon

all manner of fish;

but they do not catch that fish

the seine was made for

48:106-172

and the toils of yarn prepared.

Then the old Väinämöinen

added more nets; he

lengthened the wings at the side

five hundred fathoms

and the rope seven hundred.

He uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Let's take the nets to the deep

bring them further out

let's drag the water again -

yes, make yet another draught!'

They took the nets to the deep

brought them further out;

they dragged the water again -

yes, made yet another draught.

There the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'O Wave-wife, water mistress

water dame of reedy breast

come and change your shirt

and exchange your dress!

You have a shirt of reeds, a

cloak of sea foam on -

the work of the wind's daughter

the gift of Billow-daughter:

I'll give you a shirt of hemp

put on you one all of lawn -

one woven by Moon-daughter

spun by Sun-daughter.

'Ahto, billow-master, you

who govern a hundred troughs

take a shoot five fathoms tall

seize a seven-fathom pole

to punt the main with

stir up the sea bed

raise bony rubbish

drive a shoal of fish

towards this seine's warps and where

the hundred-float is let down

out of the fish-haunts

the salmon-crannies

from the main's great heart

from its gloomy depths

from where no sun shines

from where no sand scrapes!'

A tiny man rose out of the sea

a fellow came up from the billows;

he stands upon the high seas.

Then he put this into words:

'Is there need of one to beat

someone to wield a big stick?'*

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Yes, there's need of one to beat

someone to wield a big stick.'

The small man, puny fellow

yanked a fir tree from the shore

for a big stick a tall pine

fixed a boulder to beat with;

he asks and he speaks:

'Shall I beat with all my strength

properly with might and main

or beat as the tools allow?'

Old Väinämöinen shrewdly

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'You beat as the tools allow:

that will be beating enough.'

48:173-244

The small man, puny fellow

at that now bashes

and beats as the tools allow;

and he drove a lot of fish

towards that seine's warps and where

the hundred-float was let down.

The smith holds fast with the oars;

steady old Väinämöinen

his job is to raise the seine

jerk the toils of yarn

and old Väinämöinen said:

'Now there is a shoal of fish

within this seine's warps and where

the hundred-float is let down.'

Then they raise the seine

they unload it, shake it out

into Väinämöinen's boat

and they catch the shoal of fish

the seine was made for

and the toils of yarn prepared.

Steady old Väinämöinen

sped the boat landward

and put in at a blue quay

at the end of a red stair;

he swept out the shoal of fish

he shed the bony rubbish

got from it the grizzled pike -

the one long trapped for.

Then the old Väinämöinen

thereupon he thinks:

'Dare I handle it

without gauntlets of iron

or mittens of stone

or mitts of copper?'

Now, the sun's son heard

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Were it me, I'd split the pike

I'd risk laying hands on it

had I my father's dirk, my

honoured parent's knife.'

A knife spun out of the sky

from the clouds a dirk came down

its tip gold, its blade silver

to the belt of the sun's son;

so the worthy sun's son caught

that knife with his hands

and with it he splits the pike

slashes the wide-mouth:

in the grizzled pike's belly

the pale trout is found;

in the pale trout's belly, there

was the smooth whitefish.

And he split the smooth whitefish

and got a blue ball

from the whitefish's

gut, from the third twist;

unwound the blue ball

and from the blue ball

a red ball dropped out;

undid that red ball

and in the red ball

found the tine of fire

which had come from heaven

through the clouds had dropped

off the eight heavens

down from the ninth sky.

While Väinämöinen wondered

how it might be brought

into the fireless cabins

into the dark rooms

the fire flared up and escaped

from the hand of the sun's son.

48:245-317

It singed Väinämöinen's beard;

but worse for the smith

the fire burnt his cheeks

and it scorched his hands.

It went from there on its way

past Lake Alue's billows;

it leapt to some junipers -

the juniper heath caught fire;

it rushed into some spruces

and burnt the splendid spruces;

it swept further still

and burnt half the North

a strip of Savo's border

both halves of Karelia.

Steady old Väinämöinen

stepped out himself, went

up over the wilds

after that harsh fire

and he found the fire

beneath two stump roots

in an alder log

tucked under a rotten stump;

and there old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Dear fire, God's creature

the Creator's creature, flame:

you had no cause to go deep

and no business quite so far!

You'll do better when you go

back to the stone hearth

commit yourself to your dust

peter out to your embers

to be kept by day

in the cook-house birch-faggots

and hidden by night

within the glowing fireplace.'

And he snatched the spark of fire

put it on burning tinder

on hard birch fungus

in a copper pan

carried the fire in the pan

on the birch bark conveyed it

to the misty headland's tip

to the foggy island's end

and the cabins got their fire

back, the rooms their flame.

As for smith Ilmarinen

he plunged broadside in the sea

pulls himself up on a rock

on a shore boulder he lands

in pain from the burning fire

and in hardship from the flame:

there he dimmed the fire

and he doused the flame.

He says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Dear fire, God's creature

blaze, son of daylight:

what put you to ill

that you burnt my cheeks

and heated my loins

and angered my sides?

How now shall I dim

the fire, douse the flame

make the fire harmless

and the flame helpless

lest it smart for long

and nag for ages?

Come, girl, from Turja

maid, down from Lapland

slushy your stockings, icy

your shoes, frosty your skirt hems

a pan of slush in your hand

48:318-372

and a ladle of ice in the pan:

toss some chill water

some thin ice sprinkle

on the burnt places

on fire's bad fury!

'Should not enough come of that

come, boy, from Northland

child, from the heart of Lapland

tall man, from Darkland

large as spruces of the wild

big as a swamp pine

mittens of slush on your hands

boots of slush upon your feet

a cap of slush on your scalp

belted with a belt of slush:

bring slush from Northland

and ice from the cold village!

There's lots of slush in Northland

and ice in the cold village -

slushy streams and icy lakes

all the air a sheet of ice;

slushy the hares hop

and icy the bears caper

on a snowy hillside, on

a snowy slope's edge;

icy the swans glide

and icy the ducks paddle

amid a snowy river

on an icy rapid's brink.

Pull slush on a sled

lug ice along on a sledge

from a harsh fell-top

a mighty slope's edge

and with the slush cool

and with the icy chill freeze

the hurts dealt by fire

done to a turn by the blaze!

'Should not enough come of that

O Old Man, chief god

Old Man, keeper of the clouds

governor of the vapours:

rear a cloud out of the east

from the west send a cloud-mass

push them together edge-on

knock them against each other;

rain slush and rain ice

rain a good ointment

on the burnt places

overcome by hurt!'

Smith Ilmarinen

with that dimmed the fire

and calmed the flame down

and he got better

became his old self

after fire's harsh hurts.

49. Moon and Sun

Still the sun is not shining

nor the golden moon gleaming

on those Väinö-land cabins

on the Kalevala heaths:

the wealth grows chilly, the herds

get into a dreadful state

strange to the birds of the air

tiresome to mankind

that the sun will never shine

nor will the moon gleam.

The pike knew the sea-trough's depths

the eagle the birds' movements

the wind how far a day's sail;

but man's children do not know

when the morning will begin

when the night will try

on the misty headland's tip

at the foggy island's end.

The young hold counsel

and the aged consider

how they'll be without the moon

live without the sun

on those poor borders

the luckless lands of the North.

The maids hold counsel

the charges deliberate;

they come to the smith's workshop

and say with this word:

'Smith, rise from below the wall

craftsman, from behind the stove

to forge a new moon

and a new sun-ring! It is

bad without the moon gleaming

strange without the sun shining.'

And the smith rose from below the wall

and the craftsman from behind the stove

to forge a new moon

and a new sun-ring;

and a moon he wrought in gold

out of silver made a sun.

The old Väinämöinen came

stations himself at the door

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Smith my dear brother!

Why in the workshop do you

clatter, hammer all the time?'

Smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I'm working a moon in gold

in silver a sun

for heaven's top up yonder

to go on the six bright lids.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Ho-ho, smith Ilmarinen!

You have been wasting your time:

no gold gleams as the moon, nor

as the sun does silver shine.'

The smith wrought a moon

and finished forging a sun;

raised them with a will

had them beautifully borne -

the moon to a spruce's top

and the sun up a tall pine.

Sweat rolled from the carrier's head

and dew from the bearer's brow

49:67-136

in the very hard labour

in the difficult lifting.

Well, he got the moon hoisted

and the sun in place -

the moon at the spruce's peak

the sun up the pine, and no:

the moon will not gleam at all

nor will the sun shine at all.

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Now is the time to cast lots

and to ask for a man's sign

where the sun has gone from us

where the moon is lost to us.'

He, the old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

from an alder cut slivers

laid the slivers out

set about turning the lots

his fingers arranging them;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'I ask the Creator's leave

and require, yes, an answer.

Tell truly, Creator's sign

reveal, lots of God:

where has the sun gone from us

where is the moon lost to us

that they never in this world

are seen in the sky?

Tell, lots, as it is

not as a man would have it;

bring here the true news

deliver what is destined!

If the lots should lie

their worth will lessen:

they'll be cast into the fire

the sign of men will be burnt.'

But the lots brought the true news

and the sign of men answers:

they said that the sun had gone

and the moon was lost yonder -

in Northland's rocky

hill, inside the copper slope.

Steady old Väinämöinen

at that put this into words:

'If I go now to Northland

in the tracks of the North's sons

I shall get the moon to gleam

and the golden sun to shine.'

He both went and sped

off to dark Northland:

he stepped one day, he stepped two

till by the third day

the North's gate appears

the rocky mounds glow.

At first he shouted out loud

at that river of Northland:

'Bring a boat here so that I

can cross the river!'

When the shout was not

heard, nor a boat brought

he gathered a stack of wood

dry spruce foliage;

he made a fire on the shore

produced a thick smoke:

the fire rose skyward

the smoke thickened in the air.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

went to the window

49:137-204

looked out towards the strait-mouth

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'What is the fire burning there -

there at the island's strait-mouth?

It is small as war-fires go

big as fishermen's flames go.'

The son of the Northlander

quickly pushed into the yard

to look, to listen

to inspect with care:

'There beyond the river is

a hero walking.'

At that old Väinämöinen

shouted now a second time:

'Bring a boat, son of the North -

a boat for Väinämöinen!'

So the son of the North says

he declared, answered:

'No boats are free here:

come with your fingers as oars

with your palms as hand-paddles

for crossing Northland's river!'

At that old Väinämöinen

thinks and considers:

'He is not a man at all

who turns back upon the road.'

He went as a pike into the sea

as a whitefish in the smooth river

quickly swims across the strait

swiftly strode the gap;

he took one step, he took two

to the North's shore he hurried.

So the sons of the North say

the evil swarm roar:

'Just walk into Northland's yard!'

He went into Northland's yard.

And the boys of the North say

the evil swarm roar:

'Come into Northland's cabin!'

And he went into Northland's cabin;

he set foot in the doorway

laid his hand upon the latch;

then he pushed indoors

made his way under the roof.

There men are drinking

honey, quaffing mead

the men all girded with swords

the fellows with war-weapons

out for Väinämöinen's head

to slay him of Calm Waters

and they asked the newcomer

they said with this word:

'What is the wretched man's news

the swimming fellow's business?'

Steady old Väinämöinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Of the moon there's wondrous news

of the sun mighty marvels.

Where has the sun gone from us

where is the moon lost to us?'

The boys of the North

say, the evil swarm declared:

'There the sun has gone from you

the sun gone and the moon lost -

into a bright-breasted rock

into a cliff of iron.

They'll not get out unless they're let out

not be free unless they're freed.'

49:205-277

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'If the moon does not get out

from the rock, nor from the cliff

the sun, let's fight hand to hand

let us take up swords!'

He drew his sword, wrenched the iron

snatched from the sheath the harsh one

upon whose point the moon shone

upon whose hilt the sun flashed

upon whose back a horse stands

where the peg went a cat mewed.

They sized up their swords

they tested their cutlasses:

a tiny bit longer was

the old Väinämöinen's sword -

by one barley grain

a straw stem higher.

They went out into the yard

side by side on to the ground.

Then the old Väinämöinen

smote with one flashing

stroke - smote once, smote twice;

sliced like turnip roots

severed like hemp tops

heads of the boys of the North.

Then the old Väinämöinen

went to look the moon

to collect the sun

out of the bright-breasted rock

out of the mountain of steel

and the iron cliff;

and he stepped a bit of road

walked a little way

till he saw a green island -

on the isle a splendid birch

beneath the birch a boulder

beneath the boulder a cliff

with nine doors in front

a hundred bolts on the doors.

He spied a mark on the rock

a false line upon the cliff.

He drew his sword from the sheath

cut a pattern on the rock

with the sword of fiery blade

with the sparkling brand:

the rock broke in two

into three the boulder burst.

Steady old Väinämöinen

looks through the crack in the rock:

there vipers are drinking beer*

worms are swigging wort

within the bright rock

the cleft of the liver-hued.

The old Väinämöinen said

he declared, spoke thus:

'That is why poor mistresses

are getting less beer - because

vipers are drinking the beer

and worms are swigging the wort.'

He cut the head off a worm

he broke the neck of a snake;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Never in this world

from this day forward

shall vipers drink our

beer, worms our malt drinks!'

Then the old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

with his fists tried the doors, the

bolts with the force of the word;

but the doors will not open with hands

49:278-346

nor do the bolts care for words.

Then the old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'A man unarmed is a hag -

useless without axe or hoe.'

And he goes straight home

his head down, in bad spirits

for he has not got the moon

yet, nor found the sun.

Wanton Lemminkäinen said:

'Oh, old Väinämöinen, why

didn't you take me

with you as crooner?

The locks would have slid aside

the inner bolts would have snapped

and the moon got out to gleam

and the sun risen to shine.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

put this into words:

'Bolts won't snap with words

locks won't crumble with a spell

nor with the touch of a fist

the turn of an arm.'

He went to his smith's workshop

and uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Smith Ilmarinen

forge a three-pronged hoe

and forge a dozen ice-picks

a whole bunch of keys, with which

I will let the moon out from

the rock, the sun from the cliff!'

He, the smith Ilmarinen

the everlasting craftsman

forged the things the man needed:

he forged a dozen ice-picks

a whole bunch of keys

a good bunch of spears

neither big nor small -

forged them for once middle-sized.

Louhi, mistress of Northland

the gap-toothed hag of the North

gave life to wings with feathers

and away she flew;

she fluttered near home

then flung herself further off

across the sea of Northland

to smith Ilmari's workshop.

The smith opened his window

looked out: was the wind rising?

But the wind was not rising:

it was a grey hawk.

He, the smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'What is it you're after, fowl

perching under my window?'

The bird sets about

talking, the hawk speaks:

'Smith Ilmarinen

perpetual craftsman

how very clever you are -

yes, what a skilful craftsman!'

The smith Ilmarinen said

he declared, spoke thus:

'It is no wonder at all

if I'm a careful craftsman

for I have forged the heavens

hammered the lid of the sky.'

The bird sets about

talking, the hawk speaks:

49:347-417

'What are you making there, smith

what are you building, blacksmith?'

The smith Ilmarinen says

a word in answer:

'I am forging a collar

for that Northland hag, with which

she is to be chained fast to

a mighty slope's edge.'

Louhi, mistress of Northland

the gap-toothed hag of the North

felt her ruin coming, her

day of trouble catching up:

at once off she flew

escaped to Northland

let the moon loose from the rock

let the sun out of the cliff.

She changed into something else

turned herself into a dove

and she flaps along

to smith Ilmari's workshop

flew as a bird to the door

as a dove to the threshold.

Smith Ilmarinen

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Why did you fly this way, bird

and come to the threshold, dove?'

The fowl answered from the door

the dove spoke from the threshold:

'I'm on the threshold

to bring you this news:

the moon's risen from the rock

the sun is out from the cliff.'

Smith Ilmarinen

went himself to look.

He steps to the workshop door

looked carefully heavenward:

he beheld the moon gleaming

saw the sun shining.

He went to Väinämöinen

he uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Old Väinämöinen

O everlasting singer

go, look at the moon

and inspect the sun!

Now they are in the sky, right

in their old places.'

Steady old Väinämöinen

pushed into the yard

went and lifted up his head

glances heavenward: the moon

was risen, the sun was out

the daylight had reached the sky.

Then the old Väinämöinen

began reciting;

he says with this word

he spoke with this speech:

'Hail, moon, for gleaming

fair one for showing your face

dear sun for dawning

and daylight for coming up!

Dear moon, you're out from the rock

fair day from the cliff

you've risen as a golden

cuckoo, as a silver dove

up to where you used to live

on your old travels.

Rise always in the mornings

from this day forward;

bring us wellbeing

shift the catch to the catching

the quarry to our thumb-tips

49:418-50:32

and good luck to our hook-ends

Fare well now upon your way

upon your journey sweetly

end your curve beautifully

come at evening into joy!'

50. The Newborn King

Marjatta, nice youngest child

spent ages at home growing

at her high-born father's home

in her dear mother's cabins:

she went through five chains

six rings she wore out

with her father's keys

glinting at her hem;

half the threshold she wore out

with her glittering hems

half the timber overhead

with her silks so smooth

half of the doorposts

with her cuffs so fine

as much as a floorboard with

her leather shoe heels.

Marjatta, nice youngest child

she, the tiny wench

long remained holy

all the time bashful

and she eats fine fish

pine-bark bread that's soft

but she would not eat hen's eggs

where a cockerel had frisked

nor meat from a ewe

that had been with rams.

Mother bade her go milking

but she would not go milking

and she put this into words:

'No maiden who looks like me

will touch the teat of a cow

that has dallied with a bull

50:33-104

if there is no trickle from

heifers and no gush from calves.'

Father bade her board the stallion's sledge

but she'll not sit in the stallion's sledge.

Brother brought a mare;

the maid put this into words:

'I'll not sit in a mare's sledge

that may have been with stallions

if foals cannot pull

nor month-olds convey.'

Marjatta, nice youngest child

lived on as a wench

as a modest maid

as a shy braid-head

became a herd-girl

went out with the sheep;

the sheep climbed a hill

and the lambs a mountain peak

and the maid stepped through a glade

through alders she tripped

while a golden cuckoo called

while a silver one warbled.

Marjatta, nice youngest child

looks, listens; she sat

down on a berry-hummock

sank on the side of a slope

and there put this into words

she declared, spoke thus:

'Call, golden cuckoo

silver one, warble

tin-breast, tinkle forth

German strawberry, tell me:

shall I go long as a maid

for ages as a herd-girl

in these open glades

on these wide grovelands -

one summer or two

five summers or six

maybe ten summers

or not all of that?'

Marjatta, nice youngest child

lingered long at her herding.

It is bad to be herding -

for a girl-child most of all:

the worm in the grass

lies, the lizards dart.

But there was no worm

lying, no lizard darting.

A berry shrieked from the hill

a cowberry from the heath:

'Come, maid, and pluck me

red-cheek, and pick me

tin-breast, and tear me

copper-belt, choose me

ere the slug eats me

the black worm scoffs me!

A hundred have come to look

a thousand to sit about -

a hundred maids, a thousand

women, children unnumbered -

but not one would touch

me, pick luckless me.'

Marjatta, nice youngest child

went a little way

went to look for the berry

and to pick the cowberry

with her good finger

tips, her fair hands. She

spied the berry on the hill

the cowberry on the heath:

'tis a berry by its look

a cowberry by its shape -

50:105-175

too high to eat off the ground

too low to climb a tree for.

She snatched a rod off the heath

with it brought the berry down;

the berry rose from the ground

towards her fair shoe-uppers

and from her fair shoe-uppers

towards her pure knees

and from her pure knees

to her glittering hems

rose from there to her belt-ends

from her belt-ends to her breasts

from her breasts towards her chin

from her chin towards her lips

from there slipped into her mouth

swung on to her tongue

from her tongue down her gullet

then into her belly dropped.

Marjatta, nice youngest child

was fulfilled, was filled by it

she grew fat from it

and she put on flesh;

she began to stay unlaced

to slouch about unbelted

to take a bath in secret

and to slip out after dark.

Mother keeps thinking

her mamma keeps wondering:

'What's wrong with our Marjatta

and what's up with our home-bird

that she stays unlaced, always

slouches about unbelted

and takes a bath in secret

slips out after dark?'

A child brings itself to say

a little child to declare:

'What's wrong with our Marjatta

what's up with the poor wretch, is

she has been herding too much

walking too much with the flock.'

She bore a hard womb

a difficult bellyful

for seven, eight months

for nine months in all

and by old wives' reckoning

half of a tenth month.

Now in the tenth month

the lass feels a pain:

her womb becomes hard

presses till it hurts.

She asked mother for a bath:

'O my mother, my darling

prepare a place of shelter

a little warm room

for a wench's sanctuary

for a woman's room of woe!'

Mother brings herself to say

her own parent to answer:

'Fie upon you, demon's bitch!

Who were you laid by?

Was it an unmarried man

or else a married fellow?'

Marjatta, nice youngest child

this one answers that:

'It was no unmarried man

nor yet a married fellow.

I climbed a hill for berries

and to pick a cowberry;

I took a berry I liked

a second time I tasted

and it went down my gullet

50:176-242

then into my belly dropped:

I was fulfilled, filled by it

and by it became with child.'

She asked father for a bath:

'O my father, my darling

give me a place of shelter

a little warm room

where one sick may get relief

a wench endure her torment!'

Father brings himself to say

papa knew how to answer:

'Go, you whore, further than that

scarlet woman, further off

to the bruin's rocky dens

into the bear's craggy cells -

there, you whore, to breed

there, scarlet woman, to teem!'

Marjatta, nice youngest child

skilfully answered:

'I am not a whore at all

no kind of scarlet woman:

I am to have a great man

to bear one of noble birth

who will put down the mighty*

vanquish Väinämöinen too.'

The wench is in a tight spot:

where to go, which way to turn

and where to ask for a bath?

She uttered a word, spoke thus:

'Piltti, littlest wench of mine

best of my hirelings, go now

for a bath in the village

for a sauna at Sedgeditch

where one sick may get relief

a wench endure her torment:

go quickly, press on

for the need is more pressing!'

Piltti, tiny wench

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Who shall I ask for a bath

who shall I beseech for help?'

Our little Marjatta said

she uttered, spoke thus:

'Ask for Herod's bath, for the

sauna at Saraja's gates!'

Piltti, tiny wench

who was meekly obedient

and prompt without being told

quick without being extolled

as a mist goes out

as smoke she reaches the yard;

with her fists she grasped her hems

with her hands she rolled her clothes

she both ran and sped

towards Herod's home.

The hills thudded as she went

and the slopes sagged as she climbed

pine-cones jumped upon the heath

gravel scattered on the swamp;

she came to Herod's cabin

and got inside the building.

Ugly Herod in shirtsleeves

eats, drinks in the grand manner

at the head of the table

with only his lawn shirt on;

Herod declared from his meal

snapped, leaning over his cup:

50:243-311

'What do you say, mean one? Why

wretch, are you rushing about?'

Piltti, tiny wench

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'I've come for a bath in the village

for a sauna at Sedgeditch

where one sick may get relief

one in anguish may find help.'

The ugly Herod's mistress

walked with hands on hips

bustled at the floor seam, paced

in the middle of the floor;

she hastened to ask

uttered a word and spoke thus:

'Who do you ask a bath for

who do you beseech help for?'

Piltti the little wench said:

'I ask for our Marjatta.'

The ugly Herod's mistress

put this into words:

'The baths are not free for all

not the saunas at Saraja's gate.

There's a bath on the burnt hill

a stable among the pines

for a scarlet woman to have sons

a whore to bring forth her brats:

when the horse breathes out

bathe yourself in that!'

Piltti, tiny wench

hurriedly returned

she both ran and sped

said when she got back:

'There's no bath in the village

and no sauna at Sedgeditch.

The ugly Herod's mistress

uttered a word and spoke thus:

"The baths are not free for all

not the saunas at Saraja's gate.

There's a bath on the burnt hill

a stable among the pines

for a scarlet woman to have sons

a whore to bring forth her brats:

when the horse breathes out

let her bathe in that!"

That's it, that is how she spoke

that was her only answer.'

Marjatta the lowly maid

thereupon burst into tears

and she put this into words:

'The time comes for me to go

as of old for the gipsy

or the hireling serf -

to go off to the burnt hill

to head for the lea of pines!'

With her hands she rolled her clothes

with her fists she grasped her hems

took a bath-whisk for cover

a sweet leaf for her shelter

and she trips along

in hard belly-pain

to the hut among the pines

the stall on Tapio Hill;

she says with this word

she spoke with this speech:

'Come, Creator, my refuge

and my help, merciful one

in this hard labour

in these most hard times:

free a wench from a tight spot

50:312-382

a woman from belly-throes

lest she sink in woes

perish in her pains!'

When she arrived, she

put this into words:

'Breathe now, O good horse

sigh now, O draught-foal

and waft some bath steam

send a warm sauna

that, sick, I may get relief,

in anguish, I may find help!'

And the good horse breathed

and the draught-foal sighed

over her heavy belly

and what the horse breathes

is like steam being stirred up

like water tossed on hot stones.

Marjatta the lowly maid

the holy, the tiny wench

bathed her fill, bathed her belly

in all the steam she wanted:

there she had a little son

she brought forth her baby child

on the hay beside the horse

at the rough-hair's manger-end.

She washed her little offspring

swathed him in his swaddling-cloth

took the boy upon her knees

set the child upon her hem;

she concealed her baby boy

she reared her fair one

her little golden apple

her staff of silver

and in her arms she feeds him

and in her hands turns him round;

she laid the boy on her knees

the child in her lap

and began to comb his head

and to brush his hair.

The boy vanished from her knees*

the child from about her loins:

Marjatta the lowly maid

because of that feels great pain.

She dashed off in search of him:

she sought her little baby

her little golden apple

her staff of silver

underneath the grinding quern

and the gliding sledge-runner

under the siftable sieve

under the portable tub

shaking trees, parting grasses

scattering fine hay.

Long she sought her baby boy

her baby, her little one -

sought him on hills, among pines

on stumps and among heather

checking out each heather flower

through each patch of scrub sorting

digging up juniper roots

splaying out the boughs of trees.

She steps deep in thought

and she trips lightly along

till she meets a star;

to the star she bows:

'O star, God's creature

don't you know of my baby -

where my little offspring is

my little golden apple?'

The star knew how to answer:

'If I knew I would not say:

50:383-454

'tis he who created me

for these days of ill

to glimmer amid the cold

and to twinkle in the dark.'

She steps deep in thought

and she trips lightly along

till she meets the moon;

to the moon she bows:

'O moon, God's creature

don't you know of my baby -

where my little offspring is

my little golden apple?'

The moon knew how to answer:

'If I knew I would not say:

'tis he who created me

for these days of ill

to keep watch alone of nights

and to go to bed by day.'

She steps deep in thought

and she trips lightly along

till she came upon the sun;

to the sun she bows:

'O sun, God's creature

don't you know of my baby -

where my little offspring is

my little golden apple?'

The sun skilfully answered:

'Yes, I know of your offspring:

'tis he who created me

for these days of good

to jingle with gold

to clink with silver.

Sure I know of your offspring:

woe, luckless, for your baby!

There is your little offspring

your little golden apple -

in the swamp up to his waist

in the heath to his armpit.'

Marjatta the lowly maid

searched for her son on the swamp:

the boy was found on the swamp*

and from there he was brought home.

Then our Marjatta

had a handsome son growing

but no name is known for him

what name to mention him by:

mother called him Little Flower

but strangers said Fly-by-night.

Now a christener was sought

and a baptist was looked for:

an old man came to christen

Virokannas* to baptize.

But he put this into words

he declared, spoke thus:

'I'll not christen one bewitched

no mean one baptize at all

before there's an inquiry -

an inquiry, a judgement.'

Who will inquire into this -

will inquire, will judge?

Steady old Väinämöinen

the everlasting wise man

he will inquire into this -

will inquire, will judge!

Steady old Väinämöinen

thereupon passes judgement:

'The boy was got from a swamp

begot by an earth-berry?

Let him be put in the earth

beside the berry-hummock

or be taken to the swamp

hit on the head with a stick!'

50:455-526

But the half-month-old boy spoke

and the two-week-old piped up:

'You wretched old man

you wretched, sleepy old man

for you have stupidly judged

laid the law down wrong!

For better causes

for still worse deeds you were not

taken to a swamp yourself

hit on the head with a stick

when you as a younger man

yielded up your mother's child*

to save your own skin

to redeem yourself;

nor were you ever

nor yet taken to a swamp

when you as a younger man

used to dispatch the young maids

down below the deep billows

upon the black mud!'

The old man quickly christened

and briskly baptized the child

king of Karelia

guardian of all power. At that

Väinämöinen was angry -

he was angry and ashamed

and he stepped away

towards the shore of the sea

and there he started singing

sang for the last time -

sang a copper boat

a coppery covered craft

and he sits down in the stern

he cast off on the clear main

and he uttered as he went

declared as he departed:

'Just let the time pass

one day go, another come

and again I'll be needed

looked for and longed for

to fix a new Sampo, to

make a new music

convey a new moon

set free a new sun

when there's no moon, no daylight

and no earthly joy.'

Then the old Väinämöinen

goes full speed ahead

in the copper boat

the coppery punt

to where mother earth rises

and heaven descends

and there he stopped with his craft

with his boat he paused; but he

left the kantele behind

the fine music for Finland

for the folk eternal joy

the great songs for his children.

* * *

Now I should shut up

and bind my tongue fast

make an end of tale-singing

and have done with striking up:

even a horse pants

after going a long way

even iron tires

after mowing summer hay

even water halts

after rounding river-bends

even fire flickers

after burning all night long;

so why should a bard not be

weary, gentle tales not halt

50:527-599

from an evening's long-drawn joys

and from singing at sunset?

I have heard it put this way

argued differently:

no rapid however swift

runs out of water

nor does a good singer sing

everything he knows;

it makes better sense to stay

than break off in the middle.

So I'll give over, I'll stop

I'll have done, I'll leave off too:

I'll wind my tales in a ball

in a bundle I'll roll them

put them up in the shed loft

inside locks of bone

from where they'll never get out

never in this world be free

unless the bones are shaken

the jaws are opened

the teeth are parted

the tongue set wagging.

But what of it if I sing

if I chant ever so much

and sing in every valley

and in every spruce clump moan?

My mother is not alive

my own parent not awake

nor is my dear one listening

my own darling observing:

the spruces listen to me

the pine boughs observe

the birch foliage fondles

the rowans hold me.

Small I was left motherless

lowly without my mamma -

left like a lark on a rock

to be a thrush on a cairn

as a lark to soar

as a thrush to chirp

in a strange woman's keeping

a stepmother's care.

She turned poor me out

drove the orphan child

to the cabin's windward side

to the home's north side

to face the wind unsheltered

and the gale unloved.

I, a lark, began roaming

and, a wretched bird, walking

a weak one, strolling abroad

a woeful one, wandering

knowing every wind

suffering the roar

shaking in the cold

howling in the frost.

Many now I have

and a lot there are

who talk with angry voices

who with harsh voices attack:

one has cursed my tongue

another yelled at my voice

slandered me, said I mumble

declared that I sing too much

that I chant badly

twist a tale awry.

Do not, good people

don't take it amiss

if I, a child, sang too much

and, small, I chirruped badly!

I have not been schooled, not been

in the lands of mighty men

have not got strange words

50:600-620

phrases from further away.

Others were all schooled;

I could not be spared from home

helping my matchless mother

fussing round the lonely one:

I had to be schooled at home

underneath my own shed beam

at my own mother's distaffs

on my brother's wood shavings

and I was small too, tiny

a scamp in a ragged shirt.

Be that as it may

I've skied a trail for singers

skied a trail, snapped a treetop

lopped off boughs and shown the way:

that is where the way goes now

where a new track leads

for more versatile singers

more abundant bards

among the youngsters rising

among the people growing.

NOTES

Let's strike hand to hand: the traditional gesture when two men sat down to sing. See the Introduction, which these Notes supplement.

English words not in the COD are glossed.

Kalevala: primarily a place name meaning(according to Lönnrot) the abode of Kaleva, an obscure gigantic ancestor like Greek Titans. Lacking articles, Finnish makes no distinction between the place name and the title of the epic; the English article before the latter is conventional. The ending -la(or -lä, according to vowel harmony) is a 'locality formative'. Tapiola is the abode of Tapio, lord of the forests, Tuonela that of Tuoni, lord of the dead; Sibelius named his house Ainola after his wife Aino(named after the girl in canto 4); kahvila is a café, from kahvi 'coffee'. The present translation renders -la/-lä '-land'(e.g. Väinölä 'Väinö-land', 3:3), except for Kalevala itself, and Tapiola and Tuonela which, thanks to Sibelius, are already familiar.

poems: runoja. Runo is of old Germanic origin, and cognate with English 'rune', but they are not equivalent: a rune is a letter or inscription(not necessarily a poem), whereas a runo in the Kalevala tradition can only be oral, referring to both poem(as here) and bard(e.g. 12:456). Lönnrot also uses the word for the fifty sections of the epic, but the 'poems' do not correspond with the 'old poems' of his title, so the word is there rendered 'canto'. Scholars often translate runo as 'song', but the usual word for song (laulu) is also used in the epic(e.g. 1:82). The bards themselves called an epic-style narrative poem virsi(modern Finnish 'hymn'), which is rendered 'tale'(e.g. 1:5).

sea: the word clearly refers in the epic mainly to large lakes, 'lake' to smaller ones.

kiln: riihi, a building where grain is dried in mild heat and threshed.

shed loft: memory.

nice nature-daughter: korea(modern Finnish 'showy') usually means 'proudly handsome', but here and in canto 50 describing Marjatta it has sexual overtones. 'Nature-daughter' is luonnotar, formed of luonto 'nature, created world' plus the feminine suffix -tar/-tär; cf. Kanteletar, 'female spirit, muse, of the kantele', and tarjoilija, 'waiter', tarjoilijatar, 'waitress'.

patterns: kirja and related words refer to patterns both natural and man-made, often with a magical significance.(In modern Finnish kirja and kirjoittaa mean 'book' and 'to write', but the old meaning survives in kirjava, 'many-coloured, mottled, speckled, brindled'.) As the first element of compounds, kirja- or kirjo- has usually been rendered 'bright'.

Great Bear: the constellation Ursa major, alias the Plough, alias Charles's Wain. For the cult of the Great Bear see note to 46:13.

stronghold: used here metaphorically, linna(modern Finnish 'castle', colloquially 'jail') is equivalent to Anglo-Saxon burh, but 'borough' or 'burgh' is too elaborate for the epic, where the word usually refers to no more than a secure dwelling.

Sampsa: Sampsa Pellervoinen, an agriculture spirit whose first name is probably derived from Samson on account of his strength(see note to 11:311 below), his second from pelto, cognate with, and meaning, 'field'.

clearing ... fire: slash-and-burn(or burn-beat) agriculture, in which the ashes are ploughed in as fertilizer.

tin-breast: used here metaphorically, tinarinta refers to an unmarried girl wearing trinkets of semi-precious metal.

sang: bewitched. The verb often connotes magic. When its object is a person it is sometimes rendered 'sing at'(e.g. 3:57); when the object is a thing, this is being called into existence, as in 302 ff. and 27:221 ff.

wise man: tietäjä, literally 'knower' of secret lore, i.e. magician, wizard, shaman. In the Finnish Bible the word is used for the 'wise men' from the east in the Christmas story.

Häme: province of south-west Finland.

Vuoksi: river in south-east Finland flowing from the Saimaa lakes to Lake Ladoga in Russia.

Imatra: here the once spectacular rapids where the Vuoksi runs off the granite table-land; now the site of a town, Finland's largest paper mill and a hydroelectric power station.

with clear water ... rumps: they are glossy and well fed.

He sits on the rock of joy: this and the following line mean little more than 'he starts singing'. 'Joy' often means music in the epic, as here: the translation keeps the ambiguity, partly because there is another word for music - though this in turn usually refers to an instrument, the kantele; see especially canto 40.

brother-in-law: merely to parallel 'son-in-law' in the previous line. Such parallelisms are common - cf. 'fourth / ... fifth'(4:307-8).

bath-whisks: the accepted but misleading English equivalent for leafy birch twigs used to stimulate sweat in the sauna.

cogware: 'a coarse cloth, resembling frieze, made of the poorest wool' (OED, latest use 1483), presumably related to 'cog', an early cargo boat. Rendering haahen halja-koista, literally 'about vessel-jackets', i.e. imported clothes.

farm: kartano(modern Finnish 'manor', cognate with English 'garden')

is one of many more or less synonymous words for a dwelling, choice depending more on alliteration than on size or status.

the Great One: referring to Väinämöinen. The original invokes him here in terms of illustrious but obscure ancestors - Osmoinen ... Kalevainen 'the descendant of Osmo ... of Kaleva'(see note to 1:36).

untimely died: literally 'died an excessive surma', this being one of the two basic Finnish words for death. Kuolema is what happens to the old and infirm; surma is what a coroner investigates. When kuolema and surma are parallel(e.g. 15:99-100) the latter has been rendered 'doom'.

a lifelong mate on your knee: 'lifelong' and 'on your knee' translate the same word, polviseksi, to maintain the parallelism. Polvi means both 'knee' and 'generation, lifetime'; the semantic link is childbirth - cf. Latin genu, genus.

priceless: the Finnish word has the same irony as the English.

a horse stood ... the rack was: these four lines describe the decorations on the crossbow. Cf. Väinämöinen's spear(46:36-40).

not in a month of Sundays: literally 'not in a month(moon) gold-white', i.e. never.

only a maid when wed: regarded as grown up only when wed.

dwelt on the stove: the top of the traditional stone stove (uuni, cognate with English 'oven') used for heating and baking was a favourite haunt of old people and cats.

splints: thin narrow strips of resinous wood used as candles. Finnish pare in this sense has no ready English equivalent.

Cowberry: cows are often named after flowers. Lemminkäinen is too poor to own cows, so he names flowers, hoping his bride will misinterpret them as cow names. The cowberry (Vaccinium vitis-idaea) , a kind of bilberry, plays a crucial role in canto 50.

before the God known to all: literally 'before the public God', i.e. in church, in front of the icons - a Christian element Lönnrot saw fit not to remove; cf. 'Sampsa'(2:14 - see note), 'judases' for forest spirits(13:106), 'Jordan'(17:572).

a Lapp will sing: the Lapps have a traditional reputation among the Finns for magic, like the Celts among the English, for similar reasons.

Turja's tongue: '... can be explained thus, that ... by tongue she meant not speech but magic skill peculiar to Northland'(Lönnrot's 1849 preface).

Rutja: modern Ruija, Finnmark, the Norwegian far north; left

untranslated(to alliterate with 'rapid') because its otherworldly location(Tuonela) is paramount.

Dripcap: may be only an epithet - märkähattu, 'wet-hatred) ' - but is more conveniently rendered as a name.

left ski: this pointed the way while the shorter right ski propelled - hunters could not be encumbered with ski-sticks. 'Snowshoes'(43) inadequately renders a synonym for skis.

camel-colt: to show this is no ordinary horse.

whooping: the Finnish swan is the whooper (Cygnus cygnus) .

king of beasts: literally 'noble reindeer', now synonymous with 'lion'.

Thor's new cabin; presumably the outside world; cf. 47:185, 188, 219. Finnish Tuuri is the Norse god of thunder.

Antero Vipunen: a shaman whose barrow grave Väinämöinen visits to top up his repertoire of magic. Like Aino(4:363-70), Vipunen has become part of the landscape; a Western parallel is Arthur(see David Jones, The Sleeping Lord and other fragments, London, 1974). The considerable antiquity behind this canto has been obscured by the Judeo-Christian myth of Jonah: the shaman consulting his predecessor is swallowed, whereupon 'little' tradition supplies charms against indigestion.

on a man's sword tips: since this is to be another trip to the world of the dead, the risks are spelt out.

God's trance-hour: literally 'God's hour', referring to a shaman's trance, when he is possessed by(here) a healing spirit. The phrase occurs again at 32:115, where according to commentators it means 'God's wish'.

buried: literally 'into a chasm'. Inaccessible gaps in rocks were thought to contain magic; cf. the chasm at the Delphic oracle. A shaman going into a trance went 'into a chasm', perhaps a metaphor of a predecessor's grave. Here the chasm is Antero Vipunen's mouth, i.e. his grave.

Finlandia: rendering the unique Suomela.

sedgy ditch: saraoja(sara 'sedge', oja 'ditch') with its variants appears many times in the epic as a proper name. Most often, as Sariola, it is another name for Northland and is left untranslated; in canto 50 it appears as both Saraoja and Saraja.

German straits: presumably where ships of the Hanse plied their trade. In Finnish tradition 'German' and 'Germany' connoted quality, applied in the epic also to boots(18:352), planks(21:168), feminine beauty(25:289), shoes(25:594), soap(36:224), salt(46:311), and even strawberries(50:46).

cummerbund: kussakkainen, from Russian kushak, which is from Turkish kuşak; the exotic word suggests something rich and rare.

cuckoos: the bird connotes none of the mockery of Western tradition, besides which the reference here is to a cuckoo-shaped sleigh bell. The bluebird(396), by Maeterlinck out of Vera Lynn, is equally vague in the original; an explanatory 'bell' has been added.

sea beast's: turskan, literally 'cod's'; but since fish-skin is worthless, this must refer to a creature like Tursas, the 'Beast' of 2:67.

viper-field: Ilmarinen's first task is humdrum enough, for hibernating vipers are a common hazard in spring ploughing. When Gallen-Kallela illustrated this episode on the ceiling of the Finnish pavilion at the Paris World Exhibition of 1900, he fell foul of his Russian masters, who, after grudgingly allowing the Grand Duchy a pavilion of its own, were anxious about any expression of national feeling. They were pacified on being told that the fresco depicted 'a farmer's difficulties in the struggle against snakes'.

And the bride gave help: cf. Ariadne helping Theseus slay the Minotaur, one of many unexplained parallels between Finnish and Greek mythology.

iron roof: the eagle-bridegroom tries to enter three 'strongholds'(see note to 1:319 above). Prosperous farms often had men's and women's quarters for itinerant workers. The men with their iron helmets were not interested, nor were the women with their copper headdresses; only the girls with their linen(hempen) kerchiefs welcomed the visitor.

the godly: because Northland is identified with Sariola(10), which has otherworldly connections - see note to 18:116 above.

a calf and a half: literally 'a right(proper, real, hell of a) calf. This description of a great ox may have begun as a ritual poem to accompany a sacrifice; it was later used as a charm against burns, recited as fat was smeared on. The Church countered with a grotesque poem about a great pig(see FFPE 51, 52).

Kemi River: in Lapland.

Virokannas: god of oats, according to Agricola. Here Christian elements are concerned to discredit the pagan god. For his other, more impressive appearance in the epic, see note to 50:434 below.

gipsy: kasakka, an itinerant worker, popularly supposed to be of Cossack origin, as English gipsies were thought to hail from Egypt, whence their name. Not the same as the Finnish Romany, mustalaiset('the swarthy ones'), who do not figure in the epic.

trumps: torvi is a herdsman's horn of birchbark, strips of which were wound into a cone; in modern Finnish it is also an orchestral horn. But in canto 33 it is parallel with sarvi, an animal's horn; whence 'trump'.

cairns: raunio(modern Finnish 'ruin') is a pile of stones left after ploughing, the original meaning of the English word(from Celtic).

duster: literally 'wing', perhaps a feather duster.

parish: miero(modern Finnish 'cold cruel world') is from Russian mir as in the expression khodif' po miru 'to go about the village', i.e. to live by begging. Because this old woman left her brutal husband, she and her children had no choice but to 'go on the parish'. For the rest of this canto Lönnrot drew extensively on the daughter-in-law lyrics of his Kanteletar.

honey-berry: a literal rendering of mesimarja, since both elements connote endearment. Otherwise mesimarja is Arctic bramble (Rubus arcticus) , from which a liqueur is made.

open: reading aukeilta, an early emendation in the light of a formula(e.g. 1:126) of Lönnrot's ankeilta, 'anguished', perhaps a misreading of handwriting.

going lost: literally 'getting to Death'. When a cow stopped producing milk, it was thought to have been bewitched so that its milk went to the otherworld. Happily, no witch-hunt followed: the antidote was superior magic, as displayed for nearly the rest of the canto.

Beastie, forest apple, bear: literally 'Otsonen, the forest's apple'. Otso(nen) is one of many words by which the animal is named, the word 'bear' itself being ritually taboo; 'apple' is a term of endearment(cf. English 'apple of one's eye'); an explanatory 'bear' has been added. See note to 46:13 below.

That was how the young wife went: with the help of formulas, Lönnrot makes creative use of an otherwise awkward join. How can the sweet bride of canto 22 have become the vindictive harridan of canto 32? Lönnrot offers no explanation - he could not anyway - but reflects sadly on how people can change.

35:203-4 waif ... stray: tuiretuinen ... keiretyinen - both rare. The first word is derived from Tore or Ture, a character in a Scandinavian ballad of incest and murder; but(thanks to this line) it has come to mean either 'stupid' or an endearing 'poor little', whence Tuire as a girl's name. The second word remains obscure.

Savo: province of central Finland adjoining Karelia.

well-treatment: an ironic variation on Kullervo's 'ill-treatment'(34:100).

Rocky Horror, son of Dread: Kivi-Kimmo, Kammon poika, literally

'Rock-Kimmo, Dread's son' - Kimmo(modern Finnish 'bounce') being here, according to commentators, only a variation of Kammo. The name of a rock musical came in handy.

kantele: over the centuries the original five-stringed zither was supplanted by the louder and more versatile fiddle (viulu) till the epic invoked the kantele as the 'national instrument'. Since then it has grown in both size and status: there are now kantele consorts whose largest instrument has thirty-six strings, and it can be studied to diploma level. Its chief exponents today are Martti Pokela and his family, who have made many recordings.

toe-rags: originally strips of cloth wrapped round the feet in the absence of socks. Elsewhere in the epic(and in modern Finnish) the same word means 'vapours', wisps of cloud, toe-rags of the sky-god.(In modern Finnish also 'candy-floss'.)

bear: cantos 46-9 embody three aetiological myths - the origin of the bear, the origin of fire, and the departure and return of the winter sun. The cult of the Great Bear (Ursa major) was widespread in the northern hemisphere from the Stone Age. The Arctic was named after Greek arktos 'bear'; Arthur was Arcturus after the star Arktouros 'Bear-guard'(cf. Welsh arth 'bear'); an Old Norse berserkr was a reckless warrior(cf. English 'berserk') apparently named after a protective 'bear-shirt'; Beowulf was 'Bee-wolf, i.e. Bear, observing the ritual taboo mentioned earlier. Bear ritual was prominent in early Finno-Ugrian cultures, surviving into modern times when Bartók noted down bear dances. The taboo survives too in some modern European languages, e.g. Russian medved', literally 'honey-eater', whence Hungarian medve(cf. English 'mead'). Finnish mesikämmen, 'honey-paw', like kontio, 'bruin'(literally 'crawler'), is an affectionate alternative to karhu, 'bear'. In the Finnish rite as reflected in this canto, the hunter tells of hunting, catching, and killing the bear; he excuses himself, declaring that his victim is an honoured guest in the village; he recites its heavenly origin and apologizes for dismembering it, assuring its inedible parts a worthy resting-place.

white flame: translating valkeaisen twice. The Finnish word parallels 'red fire'(205).

big stick: puu pitkä means both this and 'tall tree'. The original plays on the ambiguity.

vipers are drinking beer: an uncharacteristic obscurity, like 32:157 ff. and related to it. Like the milk 'going lost' to the otherworld, here the beer, thanks to Louhi, is going the same way: 'The Hag of the North was

now refreshing her snakes with Kalevala's beer'(Lönnrot).

who will put down the mighty: literally 'who will have power over power itself. The echo of the Magnificat(Luke 1:52) was irresistible.

The boy vanished from her knees: the sudden switch is also in the source, a loosely connected sequence of Christian legends sung by Orthodox Finns. 'The Tale of the Creator' (Luojan Virsi, rendered 'The Messiah' in FFPE 59-62) consists of five legends - the Berry, the Search for a Sauna, Looking for the Lost Child, the Resurrection, the Shackling of Satan - of which Lönnrot uses the first three. This third is based on the story of the boy Jesus going missing from his family, and being found among the Temple doctors(Luke 2: 41-52).

found on the swamp: recalling the practice of leaving illegitimate babies to die if no one admitted paternity. This explains the problem of naming(427 f.), the 'inquiry'(439 ff.) and the baptism without a name(477-8). The source is now a poem about Väinämöinen's departure(FFPE 57, 58).

Virokannas: the old oat-god comes into his own as John the Baptist. Perhaps the faithful associated the unkempt figure on icons with the look of oats growing; this is one of many interpretations. In Orthodoxy his principal feast falls on 7 January, immediately after Christmas; the feast of his Nativity is universally celebrated at Midsummer, when wild oats are sown.

yielded up your mother's child: the boy is clearly confusing the old man with Joukahainen(canto 3); but such things happen in oral tradition.

APPENDIX
SIBELIUS AND THE KALEVALA

Kullervo, op. 7(1892)

Symphonic poem for soprano, baritone, male chorus, and orchestra after the Kullervo cycle, cantos 31-6. Five movements: 'Introduction', 'The Youth of Kullervo', 'Kullervo and his Sister', 'Kullervo goes to War', 'The Death of Kullervo'. The third movement includes a setting of lines from canto 35, the fifth a setting of 36:297-346.

Piano Sonata, op. 12(1893)

The principal theme of the second movement is adapted from an abandoned setting of the charm against rapids beginning at 40:23.

'Hail, moon', op. 18 no. 8(1901)

A setting for male chorus a cappella of 49:403-22.

'The Voyage', op. 18 no. 9(1893)

A setting for male chorus a cappella(also for mixed chorus) of 40:1-16. The five-beat rhythm imitates the epic singing-style of oral poetry.

Lemminkäinen Suite, op. 22(1893-1939)

Orchestral work, also known as Four Legends, after the first Lemminkäinen cycle, cantos 11-15. Four pieces: 'Lemminkäinen and the Island Maids', 'The Swan of Tuonela', 'Lemminkäinen in Tuonela', 'Lemminkäinen's Return'. The second piece(the first to be written) was originally intended as the overture to an abandoned opera, The Building of the Boat, based on cantos 8 and 16. Tuonela is the abode of Tuoni, lord of the dead.

The Origin of Fire, op. 32(1902-10)

Also known as Ukko the Fire-maker, a setting for baritone, male chorus, and orchestra of 47:41-110.

Kyllikki, op. 41(1904)

Piano suite of three untitled pieces evoking the 'Island maid' whom Lemminkäinen abducts, marries, and leaves in cantos 11-15.

The Daughter of Northland, op. 49(1906)

Symphonic fantasia evoking the first encounter between Väinämöinen and the Maid of the North in canto 8. The opening cello solo echoes epic singing-style. The composer wanted to call the work L'Aventure d'un Héros, but his German publisher preferred Pohjola's Tochter, adding for good measure at the head of the score his own unfortunate verses based on a prose 'synopsis' by the composer.

The Nature-daughter, op. 70(1913)

Tone poem for soprano and orchestra setting lines from canto I about the creation of the world. The Finnish title Luonnotar means a female nature or creation spirit.

The Song of Väinö, op. 110(1926)

A setting for mixed chorus and orchestra of 43:385-434. Väinö is Väinämöinen.

Tapiola, op. 112(1926)

Orchestral tone poem evoking the abode of Tapio, lord of the forests, most prominent in the hunting charms of canto 14 and the bear ritual of canto 46. The epigraph is by the composer.

Tiera(unnumbered, 1898)

Short character-piece for brass ensemble and percussion recalling the abortive winter expedition in canto 30. Written, like Finlandia, op. 26, at the height of the Russian censorship, the work, with its hidden reference to spells against the Frost, could have been a gesture of defiance.

Outside the epic but within the tradition, six lyrics from the Kanteletar are set in The Lover(Rakastava) , op. 14(there is also a version for strings and percussion), and in the part-songs op. 18 nos. 3, 4, and 7. The six Finnish Folk Tunes for piano(unnumbered, 1903) are outside the tradition.

En Saga, op. 9, has no connection with the Kalevala, nor for that matter with Norse saga. The title is Swedish for 'A Fairy-tale'; the Finnish title Satu has this meaning. The Bard, op. 64, refers to an Ossianic figure in Finland-Swedish poetry, and the original title is in Swedish; Gray's ode 'The Bard' comes from the same world. The Oceanides, op. 73, refers to Classical myth; the Finnish title Aallottaret('The Billow-daughters', one of whom is mentioned in canto 48) is a translation authorized by the composer to promote the work in Finland.

The list above includes some retranslations where existing English titles(supplied by the original German publisher) have been misleading: e.g. Pohjola is a place, not a person; Luon-notar is not an individual name.

See Robert Layton, Sibelius('The Master Musicians', London, 1965, 1977) and Erik Tawaststjerna(trans. Layton), Sibelius, vol. i: 1865-1905(London, 1976), vol. ii: 1904-1914(London, 1986), vol. iii: 1914-1957(London, 1997).