"Thence a wife, O son, provide thee, From the fairest maids of Pohja; Choose a maid of fair complexion, Lovely, too, in every feature, One whose feet are always nimble, 240 Always active in her movements."



RUNO VI.—JOUKAHAINEN'S CROSSBOW

Argument

Joukahainen cherishes hatred against Vainamoinen and lies in wait for him on his journey to Pohjola (1-78). He sees him riding past and shoots at him, but only kills his horse (79-182). Vainamoinen falls into the water and is driven out to sea by a tempest, while Joukahainen rejoices, because he thinks he has at last overcome Vainamoinen (183-234).

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Now resolved upon a journey To the cold and dreary regions Of the gloomy land of Pohja.

Then he took his straw-hued stallion Like a pea-stalk in his colour, And the golden bit adjusted, Bridle on his head of silver, On his back himself he seated, And he started on his journey, 10 And he trotted gently onward, At an easy pace he journeyed, Mounted on the straw-hued courser, Like a pea-stalk in his colour.

Thus through Vainola he journeyed, Over Kalevala's wide heathlands, And the horse made rapid progress, Home behind, and journey shortened, Then across the sea he journeyed, O'er the far-extending billows, 20 With the horse's hoofs unwetted, And his feet unsunk in water.

But the youthful Joukahainen, He, the puny son of Lapland, Long had cherished his resentment, And had long indeed been envious Of the aged Vainamoinen, Of the ever-famous minstrel

Then he wrought a mighty crossbow. And a splendid bow he fashioned, 30 And he formed the bow of iron, Overlaid the back with copper. And with gold inlaid it also, And with silver he adorned it.

Where did he obtain the bowstring? Whence a cord to match the weapon? Sinews from the elk of Hiisi, And the hempen cord of Lempo. Thus at length the bow was finished. And the stock was quite completed, 40 And the bow was fair to gaze on, And its value matched its beauty. At its back a horse was standing, On the stock a foal was running, On the curve a sleeping woman, At the catch a hare was couching.

Shafts of wood he likewise fashioned. Every arrow triply feathered, And the shafts were formed of oakwood, And he made the heads of pinewood; 50 Thus the arrows were completed, And he fixed the feathers on them, From the swallows' plumage taken. Likewise from the tails of sparrows.

After this, the points he sharpened. And the arrow-points he poisoned. In the black blood of the serpent, In the blood of hissing adders. Thus he made his arrows ready, And his bow was fit for bending, 60

And he watched for Vainamoinen, Waited for Suvantolainen, Watched at morning, watched at evenings Waited also through the noontide.

Long he watched for Vainamoinen, Waited long, and wearied never, Sitting gazing from the window, Or upon the stairs he waited, Sometimes lurking by the pathway, Sometimes watching in the meadow, 70 On his back his well-filled quiver, 'Neath his arm his crossbow ready.

Then he waited further onwards. Lurking near another building, On the cape that juts out sharply, Where the tongue of land curves outward. Near a waterfall, all foaming. Past the banks of sacred rivers.

And at length one day it happened. Very early in the morning, 80 As he turned his eyes to westward, And he turned his head to eastward Something dark he spied on ocean. Something blue upon the billows. "Is a cloud in east arising, Or the dawn of day appearing?"

In the east no cloud was rising, Nor the dawn of day appearing. 'Twas the aged Vainamoinen, 'Twas the ever-famous minstrel, 90 Who to Pohjola was hasting, As to Pimentola he journeyed, Mounted on his straw-hued courser. Like a pea-stalk in his colour.

Then the youthful Joukahainen, He, the meagre son of Lapland, Spanned in haste his mighty crossbow. And he aimed the splendid weapon At the head of Vainamoinen, Thus to kill Suvantolainen. 100

Then his mother came and asked him, And the aged one inquired, "Wherefore do you span your weapon, Bending thus the iron crossbow?"

Then the youthful Joukahainen Answered in the words which follow. "Therefore do I span the weapon. Bending thus the iron crossbow. For the head of Vainamoinen, Thus to kill Suvantolainen, 110 I will shoot old Vainamoinen, Strike the ever-famous minstrel, Through the heart, and through the liver, 'Twixt the shoulders I will shoot him."

But his mother straight forbade him, And dissuaded him from shooting. "Do not shoot at Vainamoinen, Do not Kalevalainen slaughter. Of a noble race is Vaino; He's my sister's son, my nephew. 120

"If you shoot at Vainamoinen, And should Kalevalainen slaughter. Gladness from the world will vanish, And from earth will song be banished. In the world is gladness better. And on earth is song more cheerful, Than to Manala if banished. And to Tuonela's darkest regions."

Then the youthful Joukahainen Paused a moment and reflected, 130 And he pondered for an instant, Though his hands to shoot were ready, One would shoot, and one restrained him, But his sinewy fingers forced him.

And at length these words he uttered, And expressed his own decision: "What if twice from earth in future Every gladness should be banished? Let all songs for ever vanish; I will shoot my arrows, heedless!" 140

Then he spanned the mighty crossbow. And he drew the bow of copper, And against his left knee bent it, Steady with his foot he held it, Took an arrow from his quiver, Chose a triple-feathered arrow, Took the strongest of his arrows, Chose the very best among them, Then upon the groove he laid it, On the hempen cord he fixed it, 150 Then his mighty bow he lifted, And he placed it to his shoulder, Ready now to shoot the arrow, And to shoot at Vainamoinen. And he spoke the words which follow: "Do thou strike, O birchwood arrow, Strike thou in the back, O pinewood. Twang thy best, O hempen bowstring! If my hand is leaning downward, Let the arrow then strike higher, 160 If my hand is bending upward, Let the arrow then strike downward!"

Quickly then he drew the trigger, Shot the first among his arrows. Far too high the shaft flew upward. High above his head to skyward, And it whizzed among the cloudlets, Through the scattered clouds it wandered.

Thus he shot, in reckless fashion, Shot the second of his arrows. 170 Far too low the shot flew downwards. Deep in Mother Earth 'twas sunken. Earth was almost sunk to Mana, And the hills of sand were cloven.

Then he shot again, a third time, And the third shaft, straighter flying, In the blue elk's spleen was buried, Under aged Vainamoinen, Thus he shot the straw-hued courser, Like a pea-stalk in his colour; 180 Through the flesh beneath his shoulder, In the left side deep he pierced him.

Then the aged Vainamoinen, Plunged his fingers in the water, With his hands the waves he parted, Grasping at the foaming billows, From the blue elk's back he tumbled From the steed of pea-stalk colour.

Then a mighty wind arising Raised upon the sea a billow, 190 And it bore old Vainamoinen, Swimming from the mainland further, O'er the wide expanse of water, Out into the open ocean.

Then the youthful Joukahainen Uttered words of boastful triumph: "Now thou ancient Vainamoinen, Never while thy life endureth, In the course of all thy lifetime, While the golden moon is shining, 200 Walk in Vainola's fair meadows. Or on Kalevala's broad heathlands!

"May you toss for six years running, Seven long summers ever drifting, Tossed about for over eight years, On the wide expanse of water, On the surface of the billows, Drift for six years like a pine-tree, And for seven years like a fir-tree, And for eight years like a tree-stump!" 210

Then the house again he entered, And at once his mother asked him, "Have you shot at Vainamoinen? Slaughtered Kaleva's famous offspring?"

Then the youthful Joukahainen Answered in the words which follow "I have shot at Vainamoinen, And have o'erthrown Kalevalainen, Sent him swimming in the water, Swept him out upon the billows, 220 On the restless waves of ocean Where the waves are wildly tossing, And the old man plunged his fingers And his palms amid the waters, Then upon his side he tumbled, And upon his back he turned him, Drifting o'er the waves of ocean, Out upon the foaming billows."

But his mother made him answer, "Very evil hast thou acted, 230 Thus to shoot at Vainamoinen And to o'erthrow Kalevalainen. Of Suvantola the hero, Kalevala's most famous hero."



RUNO VII.—VaINaMoINEN AND LOUHI

Argument

Vainamoinen swims for several days on the open sea (1-88). The eagle, grateful to him for having spared the birch-tree for him to rest on, when he was felling the trees takes Vainamoinen on his wings, and carries him to the borders of Pohjola, where the Mistress of Pohjola takes him to her abode, and receives him hospitably (89-274). Vainamoinen desires to return to his own country, and the Mistress of Pohjola permits him to depart, and promises him her daughter in marriage if he will forge the Sampo in Pohjola (275-322). Vainamoinen promises that when he returns home he will send the smith Ilmarinen to forge the Sampo, and the Mistress of Pohjola gives him a horse and a sledge to convey him home (323-368).

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Swam upon the open ocean, Drifting like a fallen pine-tree, Like a rotten branch of fir-tree, During six days of the summer, And for six nights in succession, While the sea spread wide before him, And the sky was clear above him.

Thus he swam for two nights longer, And for two days long and dreary. 10 When the ninth night darkened round him, And the eighth day had passed over, Sudden anguish came upon him, And his pain grew ever greater. From his toes his nails were dropping, And the joints from off his fingers.

Then the aged Vainamoinen Spoke in words like those which follow: "Woe to me, unhappy creature, Overburdened with misfortune! 20 I have wandered from my country, And my ancient home abandoned. 'Neath the open sky for ever, Driven along in sun and moonlight, Rocked about by winds for ever, Tossed about by every billow, On the wide expanse of water, Out upon the open ocean, Here I live a cold existence, And 'tis painful thus to wallow, 30 Always tossing on the billows, On the surface of the waters.

"Now, alas, I know no longer How to lead this life of sadness In this everlasting trouble, In an age when all is fleeting. Shall I rear in wind a dwelling, Build a house upon the waters?

"If I rear in wind a dwelling, Then the wind would not sustain it; 40 If I build a house on water, Then the waves will drift it from me."

Came a bird from Lapland flying, From the north-east came an eagle, Not the largest of the eagles, Nor was he among the smallest, With one wing he swept the water, To the sky was swung the other; On the sea his tail he rested, On the cliffs his beak he rattled. 50

Slowly back and forwards flying, Turning all around, and gazing, Soon he saw old Vainamoinen On the blue waves of the ocean. "What has brought you here, O hero, Wandering through the waves of ocean?"

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words which follow: "This has brought the man to ocean, Plunged the hero in the sea-waves. 60 I would seek the maid of Pohja, Woo the maiden of Pimentola.

"On my journey swift I hasted, On the ocean's watery surface, Till about the time of daybreak, Came I, after many mornings, Where is Luotola's deep embayment, Hard by Joukola's rapid river, When my horse was shot beneath me, By an arrow launched against me. 70

"Thus I fell into the water, In the waves I plunged my fingers, And the wind impels me onward, And the billows drift me forward.

"Then there came a gale from north-west, From the east a mighty tempest, Far away the tempest drove me, Swimming from the land still further, Many days have I been floating, Many days have I been swimming, 80 On this wide expanse of water, Out upon the open ocean. And I cannot now conjecture, Cannot guess, nor e'en imagine, How I finally shall perish, And what death shall overtake me Whether I shall die of hunger, Or shall sink beneath the waters."

Said the bird of air, the eagle, "Let thy heart be free from trouble; 90 Climb upon my back, and seat thee, Standing up upon my wing-tips, From the sea will I transport thee, Wheresoever thou may'st fancy. For the day I well remember, And recall a happier season, When fell Kaleva's green forest, Cleared was Osmola's famed island, But thou didst protect the birch-tree, And the beauteous tree left'st standing, 100 That the birds might rest upon it, And that I myself might sit there."

Then the aged Vainamoinen Raised his head from out the water, From the sea the man sprang upward, From the waves the hero mounted. On the eagle's wings he sat him, On the wing-tips of the eagle.

Then the bird of air, the eagle, Raised the aged Vainamoinen, 110 Through the path of wind he bore him, And along the east-wind's pathway, To the utmost bounds of Pohja, Onwards to the misty Sariola, There abandoned Vainamoinen, Soared into the air, and left him.

There stood Vainamoinen weeping, There stood weeping and lamenting, On the borders of the ocean, On a land whose name he knew not, 120 With a hundred wounds upon him, By a thousand winds belaboured, And his beard was much disordered, And his hair was all entangled.

Thus he wept for two, and three nights, For as many days stood weeping, For the country round he knew not, And no path could he discover, Which perchance might lead him homeward, Back to a familiar country, 130 To his own, his native country, Where he passed his days aforetime.

But the little maid of Pohja, Fair-haired damsel of the household, With the sun had made agreement, And both sun and moon had promised, They would always rise together, And they would awake together. She herself arose before them, Ere the sun or moon had risen, 140 Long before the time of cockcrow, Or the chirping of a chicken.

From five sheep she shore the fleeces, Clipped the wool from off six lambkins, In her loom she wove the fleeces, And the whole with care she carded, Long before the dawn of morning, Long before the sun had risen.

After this she washed the tables, Swept the wide-extended flooring, 150 With the broom of twigs all leafless, Then with broom of leafy branches. Then the sweepings she collected In the dustpan made of copper; Out of doors she took the rubbish, To the field beyond the farmyard, To the field's extremest limit, Where the lowest fence has opening. There she stood upon the sweepings, And she turned around, and listened. 160 From the lake she heard a weeping, Sounds of woe across the river.

Quickly then she hastened homeward, And she hurried to the parlour. As she came, she told her tidings, In such words as those which follow: "From the lake I hear a weeping, Sounds of woe across the river."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Old and gap-toothed dame of Pohja, 170 Hastened forth into the farmyard, Hurried to the fence's opening, Where she bent her ear to listen, And she spoke the words which follow: "This is not like childhood's weeping Nor like women's lamentation, But a bearded hero weeping; Thus weep men whose chins are bearded."

Three planks high, the boat was builded, Which she pushed into the water, 180 And herself began to row it, And she rowed, and hastened onward To the spot where Vainamoinen, Where the hero was lamenting.

There was Vainamoinen weeping, There Uvanto's swain lamented, By the dreary clumps of willow, By the tangled hedge of cherry. Moved his mouth, his beard was shaking, But his lips he did not open. 190

Then did Pohjola's old Mistress, Speak unto, and thus addressed him: "O thou aged man unhappy, Thou art in a foreign country!"

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Lifted up his head and answered In the very words that follow: "True it is, and well I know it, I am in a foreign country, Absolutely unfamiliar. 200 I was better in my country, Greater in the home I came from."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Answered in the words which follow: "In the first place you must tell me, If I may make bold to ask you, From what race you take your lineage, And from what heroic nation?"

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words which follow: 210 "Well my name was known aforetime, And in former days was famous, Ever cheerful in the evening, Ever singing in the valleys, There in Vainola's sweet meadows, And on Kalevala's broad heathlands; But my grief is now so heavy That I know myself no longer."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Answered in the words which follow: 220 "Rise, O man, from out the marshes, Hero, seek another pathway. Tell me now of thy misfortunes, And relate me thy adventure."

Thus she made him cease his weeping, Made the hero cease lamenting; And into her boat she took him, Bade him at the stern be seated, And herself resumed the oars, And she then began to row him 230 Unto Pohjola, o'er water, And she brought him to her dwelling. Then she fed the famished stranger, And she dried his dripping garments, Then she rubbed his limbs all stiffened, And she warmed him and shampooed him, Till she had restored his vigour, And the hero had recovered. After this, she spoke and asked him, In the very words which follow: 240 "Why did'st weep, O Vainamoinen, Why lament, Uvantolainen, In that miserable region, On the borders of the lakelet?"

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words which follow: "Cause enough have I for weeping, Reason, too, for lamentation, In the sea I long was swimming, Tossed about upon the billows, 250 On the wide expanse of water, Out upon the open ocean.

"I must weep throughout my lifespan, And lament throughout my lifetime, That I swam beyond my country, Left the country so familiar, And have come to doors I know not, And to hedge-gates that I know not, All the trees around me pain me, All the pine-twigs seem to pierce me, 260 Every birch-tree seems to flog me, Every alder seems to wound me, But the wind is friendly to me, And the sun still shines upon me, In this unaccustomed country, And within the doors I know not."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Answered in the words which follow: "Do not weep, O Vainamoinen, Nor lament, Uvantolainen. 270 Here 'tis good for thee to sojourn, And to pass thy days in comfort. Salmon you can eat at table, And beside it pork is standing."

But the aged Vainamoinen Answered in the words which follow: "Foreign food I do not relish, In the best of strangers' houses. In his land a man is better, In his home a man is greater. 280 Grant me, Jumala most gracious, O compassionate Creator, Once again to reach my country, And the land I used to dwell in! Better is a man's own country, Water from beneath the sabot, Than in unfamiliar countries, Mead to drink from golden goblets."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Answered in the words which follow: 290 "What are you prepared to give me, If I send you to your country, To the borders of your cornfields, Or the bath-house of your dwelling?"

Said the aged Vainamoinen, "Tell me then what I shall give you, If you send me to my country, To the borders of my cornfields, There to hear my cuckoo calling, And my birds so sweetly singing. 300 Will you choose a gold-filled helmet. Or a hat filled up with silver?"

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Answered in the words which follow: "O thou wisest Vainamoinen, Thou the oldest of the sages, Golden gifts I do not ask for, And I wish not for thy silver. Gold is but a toy for children, Silver bells adorn the horses, 310 But if you can forge a Sampo, Weld its many-coloured cover, From the tips of swan's white wing-plumes, From the milk of barren heifer, From a single grain of barley, From a single fleece of ewe's wool, Then will I my daughter give you, Give the maiden as your guerdon, And will bring you to your country, There to hear the birds all singing, 320 There to hear your cuckoo calling, On the borders of your cornfields."

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words which follow: "No, I cannot forge a Sampo, Nor can weld its pictured cover. Only bring me to my country, And I'll send you Ilmarinen, Who shall forge a Sampo for you, Weld its many-coloured cover. 330 He perchance may please the maiden, Win your daughter's young affections.

"He's a smith without an equal, None can wield the hammer like him, For 'twas he who forged the heaven, And who wrought the air's foundations, Yet we find no trace of hammer, Nor the trace of tongs discover."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Answered in the words which follow: 340 "I will only yield my daughter, And my child I promise only To the man who welds a Sampo With its many-coloured cover, From the tips of swan's white wing-plumes, From the milk of barren heifer, From a single grain of barley, From a single fleece of ewe's wool."

Thereupon the colt she harnessed, In the front she yoked the bay one, 350 And she placed old Vainamoinen In the sledge behind the stallion. And she spoke and thus addressed him, In the very words which follow: "Do not raise your head up higher, Turn it not to gaze about you, That the steed may not be wearied, Till the evening shall have gathered. If you dare to raise your head up, Or to turn to gaze around you, 360 Then misfortune will o'ertake you, And an evil day betide you."

Then the aged Vainamoinen Whipped the horse, and urged him onward, And the white-maned courser hastened Noisily upon the journey, Forth from Pohjola's dark regions, Sariola for ever misty.



RUNO VIII.—VaINaMoINEN'S WOUND

Argument

On his journey Vainamoinen encounters the magnificently-clad Maiden of Pohja, and makes advances to her (1-50). The maiden at length consents to his wishes if he will make a boat from the splinters of her spindle, and move it into the water without touching it (51-132). Vainamoinen sets to work, but wounds his knee severely with his axe, and cannot stanch the flow of blood (133-204). He goes in search of some magic remedy and finds an old man who promises to stop the bleeding (205-282).

Lovely was the maid of Pohja, Famed on land, on water peerless, On the arch of air high-seated, Brightly shining on the rainbow, Clad in robes of dazzling lustre, Clad in raiment white and shining. There she wove a golden fabric, Interwoven all with silver, And her shuttle was all golden, And her comb was all of silver. 10

From her hand flew swift the shuttle, In her hands the reel was turning, And the copper shafts they clattered, And the silver comb resounded, As the maiden wove the fabric, And with silver interwove it.

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Thundered on upon his journey, From the gloomy land of Pohja, Sariola for ever misty. 20 Short the distance he had travelled, Short the way that he had journeyed, When he heard the shuttle whizzing, High above his head he heard it.

Thereupon his head he lifted, And he gazed aloft to heaven, And beheld a glorious rainbow; On the arch the maiden seated As she wove a golden fabric. As the silver comb resounded. 30

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Stayed his horse upon the instant. And he raised his voice, and speaking, In such words as these addressed her: "Come into my sledge, O maiden, In the sledge beside me seat thee."

Then the maiden made him answer, And in words like these responded: "Wherefore should the maiden join you, In the sledge beside you seated?" 40

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast. Heard her words, and then responded: "Therefore should the maiden join me, In the sledge beside me seat her; Bread of honey to prepare me, And the best of beer to brew me, Singing blithely on the benches, Gaily talking at the window, When in Vainola I sojourn, At my home in Kalevala." 50

Then the maiden gave him answer, And in words like these addressed him: "As I wandered through the bedstraws Tripping o'er the yellow meadows, Yesterday, in time of evening, As the sun was slowly sinking, In the bush a bird was singing, And I heard the fieldfare trilling, Singing of the whims of maidens, And the whims of new-wed damsels. 60

"Thus the bird was speaking to me, And I questioned it in this wise:

'Tell me O thou little fieldfare, Sing thou, that my ears may hear it, Whether it indeed is better, Whether thou hast heard 'tis better, For a girl in father's dwelling, Or in household of a husband?'

"Thereupon the bird made answer, And the fieldfare answered chirping: 70

'Brilliant is the day in summer, But a maiden's lot is brighter. And the frost makes cold the iron, Yet the new bride's lot is colder. In her father's house a maiden Lives like strawberry in the garden, But a bride in house of husband, Lives like house-dog tightly fettered. To a slave comes rarely pleasure; To a wedded damsel never.'" 80

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words which follow: "Song of birds is idle chatter, And the throstle's, merely chirping; As a child a daughter's treated, But a maid must needs be married. Come into my sledge, O maiden, In the sledge beside me seat thee. I am not a man unworthy, Lazier not than other heroes." 90

But the maid gave crafty answer, And in words like these responded: "As a man I will esteem you, And as hero will regard you, If you can split up a horsehair With a blunt and pointless knife-blade, And an egg in knots you tie me, Yet no knot is seen upon it."

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Then the hair in twain divided, 100 With a blunt and pointless knife-blade, With a knife completely pointless, And an egg in knots he twisted, Yet no knot was seen upon it. Then again he asked the maiden In the sledge to sit beside him. But the maid gave crafty answer, "I perchance at length may join you, If you'll peel the stone I give you, And a pile of ice will hew me, 110 But no splinter scatter from it, Nor the smallest fragment loosen."

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Did not find the task a hard one. From the stone the rind he severed, And a pile of ice he hewed her, But no splinters scattered from it, Nor the smallest fragment loosened. Then again he asked the maiden In the sledge to sit beside him. 120

But the maid gave crafty answer, And she spoke the words which follow: "No, I will not yet go with you, If a boat you cannot carve me, From the splinters of my spindle, From the fragments of my shuttle, And shall launch the boat in water, Push it out upon the billows, But no knee shall press against it, And no hand must even touch it; 130 And no arm shall urge it onward, Neither shall a shoulder guide it."

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words which follow: "None in any land or country, Under all the vault of heaven, Like myself can build a vessel, Or so deftly can construct it." Then he took the spindle-splinters, Of the reel he took the fragments, 140 And began the boat to fashion, Fixed a hundred planks together, On a mount of steel he built it, Built it on the rocks of iron.

At the boat with zeal he laboured, Toiling at the work unresting, Working thus one day, a second, On the third day likewise working, But the rocks his axe-blade touched not, And upon the hill it rang not. 150

But at length, upon the third day, Hiisi turned aside the axe-shaft, Lempo turned the edge against him, And an evil stroke delivered. On the rocks the axe-blade glinted, On the hill the blade rang loudly, From the rock the axe rebounded, In the flesh the steel was buried, In the victim's knee 'twas buried, In the toes of Vainamoinen, 160 In the flesh did Lempo drive it, To the veins did Hiisi guide it, From the wound the blood flowed freely, Bursting forth in streaming torrents.

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, He, the oldest of magicians, Uttered words like those which follow, And expressed himself in this wise: "O thou evil axe ferocious, With thy edge of gleaming sharpness, 170 Thou hast thought to hew a tree-trunk, And to strike upon a pine-tree, Match thyself against a fir-tree, Or to fall upon a birch-tree. 'Tis my flesh that thou hast wounded, And my veins thou hast divided."

Then his magic spells he uttered, And himself began to speak them, Spells of origin, for healing, And to close the wound completely. 180 But he could not think of any Words of origin of iron, Which might serve to bind the evil, And to close the gaping edges Of the great wound from the iron, By the blue edge deeply bitten. But the blood gushed forth in torrents, Rushing like a foaming river, O'er the berry-bearing bushes, And the heath the ground that covered. 190 There remained no single hillock, Which was not completely flooded By the overflowing bloodstream, Which came rushing forth in torrents From the knee of one most worthy, From the toes of Vainamoinen.

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Gathered from the rocks the lichen, From the swamps the moss collected, Earth he gathered from the hillocks, 200 Hoping thus to stop the outlet Of the wound that bled so freely, But he could not check the bleeding, Nor restrain it in the slightest. And the pain he felt oppressed him, And the greatest trouble seized him.

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Then began to weep full sorely. Thereupon his horse he harnessed, In the sledge he yoked the chestnut, 210 On the sledge himself he mounted, And upon the seat he sat him. O'er the horse his whip he brandished, With the bead-decked whip he lashed him. And the horse sped quickly onward. Rocked the sledge, the way grew shorter, And they quickly reached a village, Where the path in three divided.

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Drove along the lowest pathway, 220 To the lowest of the homesteads, And he asked upon the threshold, "Is there no one in this household, Who can cure the wounds of iron. Who can soothe the hero's anguish, And can heal the wound that pains him?"

On the floor a child was playing, By the stove a boy was sitting, And he answered him in this wise: "There is no one in this household 230 Who can heal the wounds of iron, Who can soothe the hero's anguish, To the rock can fix it firmly, And can heal the wound that pains him. Such may dwell in other houses: Drive away to other houses."

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, O'er the horse his whip then brandished, And the sledge went rattling onward. Thus a little way he travelled, 240 On the midmost of the pathways, To the midmost of the houses, And he asked upon the threshold, And beseeching at the window, "Is there no one in this household, Who can heal the wounds of iron, Who can stanch the blood when flowing, And can check the rushing bloodstream?"

'Neath the quilt a crone was resting, By the stove there sat a gossip, 250 And she spoke and answered plainly, As her three teeth gnashed together, "There is no one in this household, Who can heal the wounds of iron, None who knows efficient blood-spells, And can close the wound that pains you. Such may dwell in other houses: Drive away to other houses."

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, O'er the horse his whip then brandished, 260 And the sledge went rattling onward. Thus a little way he travelled, On the highest of the pathways, To the highest of the houses, And he asked upon the threshold, Calling from beside the doorpost, "Is there any in this household, Who can heal the wounds of iron, Who can check this rushing bloodstream, And can stay the dark red torrent?" 270

By the stove an old man rested, On the stove-bed lay a greybeard, From the stove the old man mumbled, And the greybeard cried in answer, "Stemmed before were greater torrents, Greater floods than this were hindered, By three words of the Creator, By the mighty words primeval. Brooks and streams were checked from flowing; Mighty streams in cataracts falling, 280 Bays were formed in rocky headlands, Tongues of land were linked together."



RUNO IX.—THE ORIGIN OF IRON

Argument

Vainamoinen repeats to the old man the legend of the origin of iron (1-266). The old man reviles the iron and repeats spells for the stopping of blood, and the flow of blood is stayed (267-416). The old man directs his son to prepare a salve, and dresses and binds up the wound. Vainamoinen is cured, and thanks Jumala for his merciful assistance (417-586).

Then the aged Vainamoinen In the sledge at once stood upright, From the sledge he sprang unaided, And courageously stood upright. To the room he hastened quickly, And beneath the roof he hurried.

There they brought a silver beaker, And a golden goblet likewise, But they proved by far too little, Holding but the smallest measure 10 Of the blood of aged Vaino, From the hero's foot that spouted.

From the stove the old man mumbled, Cried the greybeard when he saw him, "Who among mankind may'st thou be, Who among the roll of heroes? Seven large boats with blood are brimming, Eight large tubs are overflowing From your knee, O most unhappy, On the floor in torrents gushing. 20 Other words I well remember, But the oldest I recall not, How the iron was first created, And the unworked ore was fashioned."

Then the aged Vainamoinen Answered in the words that follow: "Well I know the birth of Iron, And how steel was first created. Air is the primeval mother, Water is the eldest brother, 30 Iron is the youngest brother, And the Fire in midst between them.

"Ukko, mightiest of Creators, He, the God above in heaven, From the Air the Water parted, And the continents from water, When unborn was evil Iron, Uncreated, undeveloped.

"Ukko, God of realms supernal, Rubbed his mighty hands together. 40 Both his hands he rubbed together, On his left knee then he pressed them, And three maidens were created, Three fair Daughters of Creation, Mothers of the rust of Iron, And of blue-mouthed steel the fosterers.

"Strolled the maids with faltering footsteps On the borders of the cloudlets, And their full breasts were o'erflowing, And their nipples pained them sorely. 50 Down on earth their milk ran over, From their breasts' overflowing fulness, Milk on land, and milk on marshes, Milk upon the peaceful waters.

"Black milk from the first was flowing, From the eldest of the maidens, White milk issued from another, From the second of the maidens, Red milk by the third was yielded, By the youngest of the maidens. 60

"Where the black milk had been dropping, There was found the softest Iron, Where the white milk had been flowing, There the hardest steel was fashioned, Where the red milk had been trickling, There was undeveloped Iron.

"But a short time had passed over, When the Iron desired to visit Him, its dearest elder brother, And to make the Fire's acquaintance. 70

"But the Fire arose in fury, Blazing up in greatest anger, Seeking to consume its victim, E'en the wretched Iron, its brother.

"Then the Iron sought out a refuge, Sought for refuge and protection From the hands of furious Fire, From his mouth, all bright with anger.

"Then the Iron took refuge from him, Sought both refuge and protection 80 Down amid the quaking marshes, Where the springs have many sources, On the level mighty marshes, On the void and barren mountains, Where the swans their eggs deposit, And the goose her brood is rearing.

"In the swamps lay hid the Iron, Stretched beneath the marshy surface, Hid for one year and a second, For a third year likewise hidden, 90 Hidden there between two tree-stumps, 'Neath three roots of birch-trees hidden But it had not yet found safety From the fierce hands of the Fire, And a second time it wandered To the dwelling of the Fire, That it should be forged to weapons, And to sword-blades should be fashioned.

"On the marshes wolves were running, On the heath the bears came trooping. 100 'Neath the wolves' feet quaked the marshes, 'Neath the bears the heath was shaken, Thus was ore of iron uncovered, And the bars of steel were noticed, Where the claws of wolves had trodden, And the paws of bears had trampled.

"Then was born smith Ilmarinen, Thus was born, and thus was nurtured, Born upon a hill of charcoal, Reared upon a plain of charcoal, 110 In his hands a copper hammer, And his little pincers likewise.

"Ilmari was born at night-time, And at day he built his smithy, Sought a place to build his smithy, Where he could construct his bellows, In the swamp he found a land-ridge, And a small place in the marshes, So he went to gaze upon it, And examined the surroundings, 120 And erected there his bellows, And his anvil there constructed.

"Then he hastened to the wolf-tracks, And the bear-tracks also followed, And the ore of iron he saw there, And the lumps of steel he found there, In the wolves' enormous footprints; Where the bears' paws left their imprints. Then he spoke the words which follow: "'O thou most unlucky Iron, 130 In an ill abode thou dwellest, In a very lowly station, 'Neath the wolf-prints in the marshes, And the imprints of the bear-paws.'

"Then he pondered and reflected, 'What would be the upshot of it, If I cast it in the fire, And I laid it on the anvil?'

"Sore alarmed was hapless Iron, Sore alarmed, and greatly startled, 140 When of Fire it heard him speaking, Speaking of the furious Fire.

"Said the smith, said Ilmarinen, 'But indeed it cannot happen; Fire his friends will never injure, Nor will harm his dear relations. If you seek the Fire's red chamber, All illumined with its brightness, You will greatly gain in beauty, And your splendour greatly increase. 150 Fitted thus for men's keen sword-blades Or as clasps for women's girdles.'

"Therefore when the day was ended, Was the Iron from out the marshes, Delved from all the swampy places, Carried homeward to the smithy.

"Then he cast it in the furnace, And he laid it on the anvil, Blew a blast, and then a second, And he blew again a third time, 160 Till the Iron was fully softened, And the ore completely melted, Like to wheaten dough in softness, Soft as dough for ryebread kneaded, In the furnace of the smithy, By the bright flame's softening power.

"Then exclaimed the Iron unhappy, 'O thou smith, O Ilmarinen, Take me quickly from this furnace, From the red flames that torment me.' 170

"Said the smith, said Ilmarinen, 'If I take you from the furnace, Perhaps you might become outrageous, And commit some furious action. Perhaps you might attack your brother, And your mother's child might injure.'

"Therefore swore the Iron unhappy, By the oaths of all most solemn, By the forge and by the anvil, By the hammer and the mallet, 180 And it said the words which follow, And expressed itself in this wise: 'Give me trees that I can bite them, Give me stones that I may break them, I will not assault my brother, Nor my mother's child will injure. Better will be my existence, And my life will be more happy, If I dwell among companions, As the tools of handicraftsmen, 190 Than to wound my own relations, And disgrace my own connections.'

"Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, He, the great primeval craftsman, From the fire removed the Iron; Laid it down upon the anvil, Welded it till it was wearied, Shaped it into pointed weapons, Into spears, and into axes, Into tools of all descriptions. 200 Still there was a trifle wanting, And the soft Iron still defective, For the tongue of Iron had hissed not, And its mouth of steel was formed not, For the Iron was not yet hardened, Nor with water had been tempered.

"Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, Pondered over what was needed, Mixed a small supply of ashes, And some lye he added to it, 210 To the blue steel's smelting mixture, For the tempering of the Iron.

"With his tongue he tried the liquid, Tasted it if it would please him, And he spoke the words which follow: 'Even yet it does not please me For the blue steel's smelting mixture, And perfecting of the Iron.' From without a bee came flying, Blue-winged from the grassy hillocks, 220 Hovering forwards, hovering backwards, Hovering all around the smithy.

"Then the smith spoke up as follows: 'O thou bee, my nimble comrade, Honey on thy wings convey me, On thy tongue from out the forest, From the summits of six flowerets, And from seven tall grass-stems bring it, For the blue steel's smelting mixture, And the tempering of the Iron.' 230

"But the hornet, Bird of Hiisi, Looked around him, and he listened, Gazing from beside the roof-tree, Looking from below the birchbark, At the tempering of the Iron, And the blue steel's smelting mixture.

"Thence he flew on whirring pinions, Scattering all of Hiisi's terrors, Brought the hissing of the serpents, And of snakes the dusky venom, 240 And of ants he brought the acid, And of toads the hidden poison, That the steel might thus be poisoned, In the tempering of the Iron.

"Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, He, the greatest of the craftsmen, Was deluded, and imagined That the bee returned already, And had brought the honey needed, Brought the honey that he wanted, 250 And he spoke the words which follow: 'Here at last is what will please me, For the blue steel's smelting mixture, And the tempering of the Iron,'

"Thereupon the steel he lifted, In he plunged the luckless Iron, As from out the fire he took it, And he took it from the anvil.

"Then indeed the steel was angry, And the Iron was seized with fury. 260 And its oath the wretch has broken, Like a dog has soiled its honour, Brutally its brother bitten, Striking at its own relations, Let the blood rush forth in torrents, From the wound in torrents gushing."

From the stove the old man mumbled, (Shook his beard, his head he nodded) "Now I know whence comes the Iron, And of steel the evil customs. 270

"O thou most unhappy Iron, Wretched Iron, slag most worthless, Steel thou art of evil witchcraft, Thou hast been for nought developed, But to turn to evil courses, In the greatness of thy power.

"Once thou wast devoid of greatness; Neither wast thou great nor little, Neither noted for thy beauty, Nor remarkable for evil, 280 When as milk thou wast created, When the sweet milk trickled over From the breasts of youthful maidens, From the maidens' swelling bosoms, On the borders of the cloudland, 'Neath the broad expanse of heaven.

"Thou wast then devoid of greatness, Thou wast neither great nor little, When thou in the mud wast resting, Sunk below the sparkling water, 290 Overspreading all the marshland, At the base of rocky mountains, And in loose earth thou wast altered, And to iron-ore converted.

"Thou wast still devoid of greatness, Thou wast neither great nor little, When the elks were trampling o'er thee, And the reindeer, in the marshes, When the wolves' claws trod upon thee, And the bears' paws passed above thee. 300

"Thou wast still devoid of greatness, Thou wast neither great nor little, When thou from the marsh wast gathered, From the ground with care uplifted, Carried thence into the smithy, To the forge of Ilmarinen.

"Thou wast still devoid of greatness, Thou wast neither great nor little, When as ore thou there wast hissing, Plunged amid the boiling water, 310 Or amid the fiery furnace, When the mighty oath thou sworest, By the forge and by the anvil, By the hammer and the mallet, Where the smith himself was standing, On the flooring of the smithy.

"Now that thou hast grown to greatness, Thou hast wrought thyself to frenzy, And thy mighty oath hast broken, Like a dog hast soiled thy honour, 320 For thy kinsman thou hast wounded, Raised thy mouth against thy kinsman.

"Who hast led thee to this outrage, To this wickedness incited? Perhaps thy father or thy mother, Or the eldest of thy brothers, Or the youngest of thy sisters, Or some other near relation?

"Not thy father, not thy mother, Nor the eldest of thy brothers, 330 Nor the youngest of thy sisters Nor some other near relation. Thou thyself hast wrought the evil, And hast done a deadly outrage. Come thyself to see the mischief, And to remedy the evil. Come, before I tell thy mother, And complain unto thy parents, More will be thy mother's trouble, Great the anguish of thy parents, 340 That their son had wrought this evil, And their son had wrought this folly.

"Hear me, Blood, and cease thy flowing, O thou Bloodstream, rush no longer, Nor upon my head spirt further, Nor upon my breast down-trickle. Like a wall, O Blood, arrest thee, Like a fence, O Bloodstream, stand thou, As a flag in lakelet standing, Like a reed in moss-grown country, 350 Like the bank that bounds the cornfield, Like a rock in raging torrent.

"But thy own sense ought to teach thee How that thou should'st run more smoothly. In the flesh should'st thou be moving, With thy current smoothly flowing. In the body is it better, Underneath the skin more lovely Through the veins to trace thy pathway, With thy current smoothly flowing, 360 Than upon the earth rash downward, And among the dust to trickle.

"Flow not, milk, upon the flooring, Soil thou not, O Blood, the meadows, Nor the grass, O crown of manhood, Nor the hillocks, gold of heroes. In the heart should be thy dwelling, And among the lungs' dark cellars. Thither then withdraw thou quickly, There withdraw upon the instant. 370 Do not issue like a river, Nor as pond extend thy billows, Trickling forth from out the marshes, Nor to leak like boats when damaged.

"Therefore, dear one, cease thy flowing, Crimson Blood, drip down no longer, Not impeded, but contented. Dry were once the Falls of Tyrja, Likewise Tuonela's dread river, Dry the lake and dry the heaven, 380 In the mighty droughts of summer, In the evil times of bush-fires.

"If thou wilt not yet obey me, Still I know another method, And resort to fresh enchantments: And I call for Hiisi's caldron, And will boil the blood within it All the blood that forth has issued, So that not a drop escapes me, That the red blood flows no longer, 390 Nor the blood to earth drops downward, And the blood no more may issue.

"But if manly strength has failed me, Nor is Ukko's son a hero, Who can stop this inundation, Stem the swift arterial torrent, Thou our Father in the heavens, Jumala, the clouds who rulest, Thou hast manly strength sufficient, Thou thyself the mighty hero, 400 Who shall close the blood's wide gateway, And shall stem the blood escaping.

"Ukko, O thou great Creator, Jumala, aloft in heaven, Hither come where thou art needed, Hither come where we implore thee, Press thy mighty hands upon it, Press thy mighty thumbs upon it, And the painful wound close firmly, And the door whence comes the evil, 410 Spread the tender leaves upon it, Leaves of golden water-lily, Thus to close the path of bleeding, And to stem the rushing torrent, That upon my beard it spirts not, Nor upon my rags may trickle."

Thus he closed the bleeding opening, Stemming thus the bloody torrent, Sent his son into the smithy, To prepare a healing ointment 420 From the blades of magic grasses, From the thousand-headed yarrow, And from dripping mountain-honey, Falling down in drops of sweetness. Then the boy went to the smithy, To prepare the healing ointment, On the way he passed an oak-tree, And he stopped and asked the oak-tree, "Have you honey on your branches? And beneath your bark sweet honey?" 430

And the oak-tree gave him answer, "Yesterday, throughout the evening, Dripped the honey on my branches, On my summit splashed the honey, From the clouds dropped down the honey, From the scattered clouds distilling."

Then he took the slender oak-twigs, From the tree the broken fragments, Took the best among the grasses, Gathered many kinds of herbage, 440 Herbs one sees not in this country; Such were mostly what he gathered.

Then he placed them o'er the furnace, And the mixture brought to boiling; Both the bark from off the oak-tree, And the finest of the grasses. Thus the pot was boiling fiercely, Three long nights he kept it boiling, And for three days of the springtime, While he watched the ointment closely, 450 If the salve was fit for using, And the magic ointment ready.

But the salve was still unfinished, Nor the magic ointment ready; Grasses to the mass he added, Added herbs of many species, Which were brought from other places, Gathered on a hundred pathways, These were culled by nine magicians, And by eight wise seers discovered. 460

Then for three nights more he boiled it, And for nine nights in succession; Took the pot from off the furnace, And the salve with care examined, If the salve was fit for using, And the magic ointment ready

Here there grew a branching aspen, On the borders of the cornfield, And in twain he broke the aspen, And the tree completely severed, 470 With the magic salve he smeared it, Carefully the ointment tested, And he spoke the words which follow: "As I with this magic ointment Smear the injured crown all over, Let no harm be left upon it, Let the aspen stand uninjured, Even as it stood aforetime."

Then at once was healed the aspen, Even as it stood aforetime, 480 And its crown was far more lovely, And the trunk below was healthy.

Then again he took the ointment, And the salve again he tested, And on broken stones he tried it, And on shattered rocks he rubbed it, And the stone with stone knit firmly, And the cracks were fixed together.

From the forge the boy came homeward, When the salve was fit for using, 490 With the ointment quite perfected, In the old man's hands he placed it. "Here I bring a perfect ointment, And the magic salve is ready. It could fuse the hills together, In a single rock unite them."

With his tongue the old man tried it, With his mouth the liquid tasted, And the ointment tasted perfect, And the salve was most efficient. 500

This he smeared on Vainamoinen, And with this he healed the sufferer; Stroked him downward, stroked him upward, Rubbed him also on the middle, And he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in this wise: "'Tis not I who use my muscles, But 'tis the Creator moves them; With my own strength do not labour, But with strength from the Almighty. 510 With my mouth I speak not to you; Jumala's own mouth speaks with you, If my speech is sweet unto you, Jumala's own speech is sweeter. Even if my hands are lovely, The Creator's hands are fairer."

When the salve was rubbed upon him, And the healing ointment touched him, Almost fainting with the anguish, Vainamoinen writhed and struggled. 520 Turning this way, turning that way, Seeking ease, but never finding.

Then the old man banned the suffering, Far away he drove the anguish, To the central Hill of Tortures, To the topmost Mount of Suffering, There to fill the stones with anguish, And the slabs of rock to torture.

Then he took a silken fabric, And in strips he quickly cut it; 530 From the edge he tore the fragments, And at once he formed a bandage; Then he took the silken bandage, And with utmost care he wound it, Round the knees he wound it deftly, Round the toes of Vainamoinen.

Then he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in this wise: "Thus I use God's silken bandage, The Creator's mantle wind I 540 Round the great knees of the patient, Round the toes of one most noble. Watch thou, Jumala most gracious, Give thy aid, O great Creator, That we fall not in misfortune, That no evil may o'ertake us."

Then the aged Vainamoinen Felt he had regained his vigour, And that he was healed completely, And his flesh again was solid, 550 And beneath it all was healthy. In his body he was painless, And his sides were quite uninjured, From above the wounds had vanished, Stronger felt he than aforetime, Better than in former seasons. On his feet he now was walking And could bend his knees in stamping; Not the least of pain he suffered, Not a trace remained of aching. 560

Then the aged Vainamoinen, Lifted up his eyes to heaven, Gazing up to God most gracious, Lifting up his head to heaven, And he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in this wise: "Thence all mercy flows for ever, Thence comes aid the most effective, From the heaven that arches o'er us, From the omnipotent Creator. 570

"Praise to Jumala most gracious, Praise to thee, O great Creator, That thy aid thou hast vouchsafed me, Granted me thy strong protection, When my suffering was the greatest, From the edge of sharpest Iron."

Then the aged Vainamoinen Further spoke these words of warning: "People, henceforth in the future On your present welfare build not, 580 Make no boat in mood of boasting, Nor confide too much in boat-ribs. God foresees the course of by-ways, The Creator orders all things; Not the foresight of the heroes, Nor the might of all the great ones."



RUNO X.—THE FORGING OF THE SAMPO

Argument

Vainamoinen reaches home and urges Ilmarinen to depart to woo the Maiden of Pohja, because he would be able to forge a Sampo (1-100). Ilmarinen refuses to go to Pohjola, but Vainamoinen conveys him thither without his consent by a stratagem (101-200). Ilmarinen arrives in Pohjola, where he is very well received, and promises to forge a Sampo (201-280). He forges the Sampo, and the Mistress of Pohjola conceals it in the Rocky Mountain of Pohjola (281-432). Ilmarinen asks for the maiden as his reward, but she makes excuses, saying that she is not yet ready to leave home (433-462). Ilmarinen receives a boat, returns home, and informs Vainamoinen that he has forged the Sampo in Pohjola (463-510).

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Took his horse of chestnut colour, And between the shafts he yoked him, Yoked before the sledge the chestnut, On the sledge himself he mounted, And upon the seat he sat him.

Quickly then his whip he flourished, Cracked his whip, all bead-embroidered, Quick he sped upon his journey, Lurched the sledge, the way was shortened, 10 Loudly rang the birchwood runners, And the rowan cumber rattled.

On he rushed with speed tremendous, Through the swamps and open country, O'er the heaths, so wide extending. Thus he drove a day, a second, And at length, upon the third day, Reached the long bridge-end before him Kalevala's extended heathlands, Bordering on the field of Osmo. 20

Then he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in this wise: "Wolf, do thou devour the dreamer, Seize the Laplander, O sickness, He who said that I should never In my lifetime reach my homestead, Nor again throughout my lifetime, Nor as long as shines the moonlight, Neither tread Vainola's meadows; Kalevala's extended heathlands." 30

Then the aged Vainamoinen, Spoke aloud his songs of magic, And a flower-crowned birch grew upward, Crowned with flowers, and leaves all golden, And its summit reached to heaven, To the very clouds uprising. In the air the boughs extended, And they spread themselves to heaven.

Then he sang his songs of magic, And he sang a moon all shining, 40 On the pine-tree's golden summit; And the Great Bear in the branches.

On he drove with speed tremendous, Straight to his beloved homestead, Head bowed down, and thoughts all gloomy, And his cap was tilted sideways, For the great smith Ilmarinen, He the great primeval craftsman, He had promised as his surety, That his own head he might rescue 50 Out of Pohjola's dark regions, Sariola for ever misty.

Presently his horse he halted At the new-cleared field of Osmo, And the aged Vainamoinen, In the sledge his head uplifted, Heard the noise within the smithy, And the clatter in the coal-shed.

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Then himself the smithy entered, 60 And he found smith Ilmarinen, Wielding mightily his hammer.

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen, "O thou aged Vainamoinen, Where have you so long been staying. Where have you so long been living?"

Vainamoinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words which follow: "There have I so long been staying, There have I so long been living, 70 In the gloomy land of Pohja, Sariola for ever misty. Long I coursed on Lapland snowshoes, With the world-renowned magicians."

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, Answered in the words which follow: "O thou aged Vainamoinen, Thou the great primeval sorcerer. Tell me of your journey thither; Tell me of your homeward journey." 80

Said the aged Vainamoinen, "Much indeed have I to tell you: Lives in Pohjola a maiden, In that village cold a virgin, Who will not accept a suitor, Mocks the very best among them. Half of all the land of Pohja Praises her surpassing beauty. From her temples shines the moonlight, From her breasts the sun is shining, 90 And the Great Bear from her shoulders, From her back the starry Seven.

"Thou thyself, smith Ilmarinen, Thou, the great primeval craftsman, Go thyself to woo the maiden, And behold her shining tresses. If you can but forge a Sampo, With its many-coloured cover, You will then receive the maiden, And the fair maid be your guerdon." 100

Said the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, "O thou aged Vainamoinen, You have perhaps already pledged me To the gloomy land of Pohja, That your own head you might rescue, And might thus secure your freedom. Not in course of all my lifetime, While the golden moon is shining, Hence to Pohjola I'll journey, Huts of Sariola so dreary, 110 Where the people eat each other, And they even drown the heroes."

Then the aged Vainamoinen Answered in the words which follow: "There is wonder after wonder; There's a pine with flowery summit, Flowery summit, leaves all golden, Near where Osmo's field is bordered. On the crown the moon is shining, In the boughs the Bear is resting." 120

Said the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, "This I never can believe in, If I do not go to see it, And my own eyes have not seen it."

Said the aged Vainamoinen, "If you cannot then believe it, We will go ourselves, and witness Whether true or false the story."

Then they both went forth to see it, View the pine with flowery summit, 130 First walked aged Vainamoinen, And smith Ilmarinen second. When they reached the spot they sought for, On the edge of Osmo's cornfield, Then the smith his steps arrested, In amazement at the pine-tree, With the Great Bear in the branches, And the moon upon its summit.

Then the aged Vainamoinen, Spoke the very words which follow: 140 "Now thou smith, my dearest brother, Climb and fetch the moon above us, Bring thou, too, the Great Bear shining On the pine-tree's golden summit."

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, Climbed aloft into the pine-tree, Up he climbed into the daylight, Climbed to fetch the moon above him, And the Great Bear, shining brightly, On the pine-tree's golden summit. 150

Said the pine-tree's golden summit, Said the widely-branching pine-tree, "Mighty man, of all most foolish, O most thoughtless of the heroes! In my branches, fool, thou climbest, To my summit, as a boy might, And would'st grasp the moon's reflection, And the false stars thou beholdest!"

Then the aged Vainamoinen, Lifted up his voice in singing. 160 As he sang uprose a tempest, And the wind rose wildly furious, And he spoke the words which follow. And expressed himself in thiswise: "In thy boat, O wind, convey him, In thy skiff, O breeze, convey him, Bear him to the distant regions Of the gloomy land of Pohja."

Then there rose a mighty tempest, And the wind so wildly furious 170 Carried off smith Ilmarinen, Hurried him to distant regions, To the gloomy land of Pohja, Sariola for ever misty.

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, Journeyed forth, and hurried onwards, On the tempest forth he floated, On the pathway of the breezes, Over moon, and under sunray, On the shoulders of the Great Bear, 180 Till he reached the halls of Pohja, Baths of Sariola the gloomy, Yet the tailed-dogs were not barking, And the watch-dogs were not yelping.

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Old and gap-toothed dame of Pohja, In the house she stood and listened, And at length she spoke as follows: "Who then are you among mortals, Who among the roll of heroes, 190 On the tempest-path who comest, On the sledgeway of the breezes, Yet the dogs ran forth not, barking, And the shaggy-tailed ones barked not."

Said the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, "Surely I have not come hither That the village dogs should shame me, Or the shaggy-tailed ones hurt me, Here behind these foreign portals, And behind these unknown fences." 200

Then did Pohjola's old Mistress Question thus the new-come stranger: "Have you ever on your travels, Heard reports of, or encountered Him, the great smith Ilmarinen, Most accomplished of the craftsmen? Long have we been waiting for him, Long been anxious for his coming Here to Pohjola's dark regions, That a Sampo he might forge us." 210

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, Answered in the words which follow: "I have met upon my journey With the smith named Ilmarinen; I myself am Ilmarinen, And a most accomplished craftsman."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress, Old and gap-toothed dame of Pohja, Hurried back into her dwelling, And she spoke the words which follow: 220 "Come my daughter, thou the youngest, Thou the fairest of my children, Robe thyself in choicest raiment, Clothe thee in the brightest-coloured, In the finest of your dresses, Brightest beads upon thy bosom, Round thy neck the very finest, And upon thy temples shining. See thou that thy cheeks are rosy, And thy countenance is cheerful. 230 Here's the smith named Ilmarinen, He the great primeval craftsman, Who will forge the Sampo for us, With its brightly-pictured cover."

Then the lovely maid of Pohja, Famed on land, on water peerless, Took the choicest of her dresses, And the brightest of her garments, And the fifth at last selected. Then her head-dress she adjusted, 240 And her copper belt girt round her, And her wondrous golden girdle.

Back she came from out the storeroom, Dancing back into the courtyard, And her eyes were brightly shining. As she moved, her earrings jingled, And her countenance was charming, And her lovely cheeks were rosy. Gold was shining on her bosom, On her head was silver gleaming. 250

Then did Pohjola's old Mistress, Lead the smith named Ilmarinen, Into Pohjola's great castle. Rooms of Sariola the gloomy. There she set a meal before him, Gave the hero drink in plenty, And she feasted him profusely, And at length she spoke as follows: "O thou smith, O Ilmarinen, Thou the great primeval craftsman, 260 If you can but forge a Sampo, With its many-coloured cover, From the tips of swans' white wing-plumes, From the milk of barren heifer, From a little grain of barley, From the wool of sheep of summer, Will you then accept this maiden, As reward, my charming daughter?"

Then the smith named Ilmarinen Answered in the words which follow: 270 "I will go to forge the Sampo, Weld its many-coloured cover, From the tips of swans' white wing-plumes, From the milk of barren heifer, From a little grain of barley, From the wool of sheep of summer, For 'twas I who forged the heavens, And the vault of air I hammered, Ere the air had yet beginning, Or a trace of aught was present." 280

Then he went to forge the Sampo, With its many-coloured cover, Sought a station for a smithy, And he needed tools for labour; But no place he found for smithy, Nor for smithy, nor for bellows, Nor for furnace, nor for anvil, Not a hammer, nor a mallet.

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, Spoke aloud the words which follow: 290 "None despair, except old women, Scamps may leave their task unfinished; Not a man, how weak soever, Not a hero of the laziest!"

For his forge he sought a station, And a wide place for the bellows, In the country round about him, In the outer fields of Pohja. So he sought one day, a second, And at length upon the third day 300 Found a stone all streaked with colours, And a mighty rock beside it. Here the smith his search abandoned, And the smith prepared his furnace, On the first day fixed the bellows, And the forge upon the second.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen, He the great primeval craftsman, Heaped the fuel upon the fire, And beneath the forge he thrust it, 310 Made his servants work the bellows, To the half of all their power.

So the servants worked the bellows, To the half of all their power. During three days of the summer, During three nights of the summer. Stones beneath their heels were resting, And upon their toes were boulders.

On the first day of their labour He himself, smith Ilmarinen, 320 Stooped him down, intently gazing, To the bottom of the furnace, If perchance amid the fire Something brilliant had developed.

From the flames there rose a crossbow, Golden bow from out the furnace; 'Twas a gold bow tipped with silver, And the shaft shone bright with copper.

And the bow was fair to gaze on, But of evil disposition, 330 And a head each day demanded, And on feast-days two demanded.

He himself, smith Ilmarinen, Was not much delighted with it, So he broke the bow to pieces, Cast it back into the furnace, Made his servants work the bellows, To the half of all their power. So again upon the next day, He himself, smith Ilmarinen, 340 Stooped him down, intently gazing To the bottom of the furnace, And a boat rose from the furnace, From the heat rose up a red boat, And the prow was golden-coloured, And the rowlocks were of copper.

And the boat was fair to gaze on, But of evil disposition; It would go to needless combat, And would fight when cause was lacking. 350

Therefore did smith Ilmarinen Take no slightest pleasure in it, And he smashed the boat to splinters, Cast it back into the furnace; Made his servants work the bellows, To the half of all their power. Then upon the third day likewise, He himself, smith Ilmarinen, Stooped him down, intently gazing To the bottom of the furnace, 360 And a heifer then rose upward, With her horns all golden-shining, With the Bear-stars on her forehead; On her head appeared the Sun-disc.

And the cow was fair to gaze on, But of evil disposition; Always sleeping in the forest, On the ground her milk she wasted.

Therefore did smith Ilmarinen Take no slightest pleasure in her, 370 And he cut the cow to fragments, Cast her back into the furnace, Made his servants work the bellows, To the half of all their power.

So again upon the fourth day, He himself, smith Ilmarinen Stooped him down, and gazed intently To the bottom of the furnace, And a plough rose from the furnace, With the ploughshare golden-shining, 380 Golden share, and frame of copper, And the handles tipped with silver.

And the plough was fair to gaze on, But of evil disposition, Ploughing up the village corn fields, Ploughing up the open meadows.

Therefore did smith Ilmarinen Take no slightest pleasure in it. And he broke the plough to pieces, Cast it back into the furnace, 390 Call the winds to work the bellows To the utmost of their power.

Then the winds arose in fury, Blew the east wind, blew the west wind, And the south wind yet more strongly, And the north wind howled and blustered. Thus they blew one day, a second, And upon the third day likewise. Fire was flashing from the windows, From the door the sparks were flying 400 And the dust arose to heaven; With the clouds the smoke was mingled. Then again smith Ilmarinen, On the evening of the third day, Stooped him down, and gazed intently To the bottom of the furnace, And he saw the Sampo forming, With its many-coloured cover.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen, He the great primeval craftsman, 410 Welded it and hammered at it, Heaped his rapid blows upon it, Forged with cunning art the Sampo, And on one side was a corn-mill, On another side a salt-mill, And upon the third a coin-mill.

Now was grinding the new Sampo, And revolved the pictured cover, Chestfuls did it grind till evening, First for food it ground a chestful, 420 And another ground for barter, And a third it ground for storage.

Now rejoiced the Crone of Pohja, And conveyed the bulky Sampo, To the rocky hills of Pohja, And within the Mount of Copper, And behind nine locks secured it. There it struck its roots around it, Fathoms nine in depth that measured, One in Mother Earth deep-rooted, 430 In the strand the next was planted, In the nearest mount the third one.

Afterwards smith Ilmarinen, Asked the maiden as his guerdon, And he spoke the words which follow: "Will you give me now the maiden, For the Sampo is completed, With its beauteous pictured cover?"

Then the lovely maid of Pohja Answered in the words which follow: 440 "Who in years that this shall follow, For three summers in succession, Who shall hear the cuckoo calling, And the birds all sweetly singing, If I seek a foreign country, As in foreign lands a berry?

"If the dove had thus departed, And the maiden thus should wander, Strayed away the mother's darling, Likewise would the cranberries vanish, 450 All the cuckoos vanish with them, And the nightingales would migrate, From the summit of this mountain, From the summits of these uplands.

"Not as yet can I abandon My delightful life as maiden, And my innocent employments In the glowing heat of summer. All unplucked the mountain-berries, And the lakeshore will be songless, 460 And unvisited the meadows, And in woods I sport no longer."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen, He the great primeval craftsman, Sad, and with his head down-hanging, And his cap in grief thrust sideways, Presently began to ponder, In his head long time debating How he now should journey homeward, To his own familiar country, 470 From the gloomy land of Pohja, Sariola for ever misty.

Then said Pohjola's old Mistress, "O thou smith, O Ilmarinen Wherefore is thy mind so saddened, And thy cap in grief pushed sideways? Are you thinking how to journey, Homeward to your native country?"

Said the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, "Yes, my thoughts are there directed 480 To my home that I may die there, And may rest in scenes familiar."

Then did Pohjola's old Mistress Set both meat and drink before him, At the boat-stern then she placed him, There to work the copper paddle. And she bade the wind blow strongly, And the north wind fiercely bluster.

Thus it was smith Ilmarinen He the great primeval craftsman, 490 Travelled homeward to his country, O'er the blue sea's watery surface. Thus he voyaged one day, a second, And at length upon the third day, Reached the smith his home in safety, In the land where he was nurtured.

Asked the aged Vainamoinen, When he saw smith Ilmarinen, "Ilmarinen, smith and brother, Thou the great primeval craftsman, 500 Hast thou forged a new-made Sampo, With its many-coloured cover?"

Then replied smith Ilmarinen, Ready with a fitting answer, "Grinds forth meal, the new-made Sampo, And revolves the pictured cover, Chestfuls does it grind till evening, First for food it grinds a chestful, And another grinds for barter, And a third it grinds for storage." 510



RUNO XI.—LEMMINKAINEN AND KYLLIKKI

Argument

Lemminkainen goes to seek a wife among the noble maidens of Saari (1-110). At first they laugh at him, but afterwards become very friendly (111-156). But Kyllikki, on whose account he has come, will not listen to him, and at length, he carries her off by force, drags her into his sledge, and drives away with her (157-222). Kyllikki weeps, and especially reproaches Lemminkainen with his fondness for war, and Lemminkainen promises not to go to war if Kyllikki promises never to go to the village dances, and both swear to observe these conditions (223-314). Lemminkainen drives home, and mother rejoices in her young daughter-in-law (315-402).

Now 'tis time to speak of Ahti, Of that lively youth to gossip. Ahti, dweller in the island, He the scapegrace son of Lempi, In a noble house was nurtured, By his dear and much-loved mother Where the bay spread out most widely. Where the cape extended furthest,

Kauko fed himself on fishes, Ahti was reared up on perches, 10 And he grew a man most handsome, Very bold and very ruddy, And his head was very handsome, And his form was very shapely, Yet he was not wholly faultless, But was careless in his morals, Passing all his time with women, Wandering all around at night-time, When the maidens took their pleasure In the dance, with locks unbraided. 20

Kylli, beauteous maid of Saari, Saari's maiden, Saari's flower, In a noble house was nurtured. And her stature grew most graceful, Sitting in her father's dwelling, Resting there in seat of honour.

Long she grew, and wide was famous: Suitors came from distant regions, To the far-famed maiden's homestead, To the dwelling of the fair one. 30

For his son, the Sun had wooed her. But she would not go to Sunland, Where the Sun is ever shining In the burning heats of summer.

For his son, the Moon had wooed her, But she would not go to Moonland, Where the Moon is ever shining, In the realms of air to wander.

For his son, a Star had wooed her, But she would not go to Starland, 40 Through the livelong night to glimmer, In the open skies of winter. Many suitors came from Viro, And from Ingerland came others; None among them pleased the maiden, And she answered all as follows: "'Tis for nought your gold you squander, And your silver waste for nothing. Never will I go to Viro, Neither go, nor in the future 50 Row a boat through Viro's waters, Nor will move a punt from Saari, Nor will eat the fish of Viro, Nor the fish-soup eat of Viro.

"Nor to Ingerland I'll travel, Nor its slopes and shores will visit. There is hunger, nought but hunger, Want of trees, and want of timber, Want of water, want of wheatfields, There is even want of ryebread." 60

Then the lively Lemminkainen, He the handsome Kaukomieli, Now resolved to make a journey And to woo the Flower of Saari, Seek at home the peerless fair one, With her beauteous locks unbraided.

But his mother would dissuade him, And the aged woman warned him: "Do not seek, my son, my darling, Thus to wed above your station. 70 There are none would think you noble Of the mighty race of Saari."

Said the lively Lemminkainen, Said the handsome Kaukomieli, "If my house is not as noble, Nor my race esteemed so mighty, For my handsome shape they'll choose me, For my noble form will take me."

But his mother still opposed her Unto Lemminkainen's journey, 80 To the mighty race of Saari, To the clan of vast possessions. "There the maidens all will scorn you, And the women ridicule you."

Little heeded Lemminkainen, And in words like these he answered: "I will check the women's laughter, And the giggling of their daughters. Sons I'll give unto their bosoms, Children in their arms to carry; 90 Then they will no longer scorn me, Thus I'll stop their foolish jesting."

Then his mother made him answer; "Woe to me, my life is wretched. If you mock the Saari women, Bring to shame the modest maidens, You will bring yourself in conflict, And a dreadful fight will follow. All the noble youths of Saari, Full a hundred skilful swordsmen, 100 All shall rush on thee unhappy, Standing all alone amidst them."

Little heeded Lemminkainen All the warnings of his mother; Chose the best among his stallions. And the steed he quickly harnessed, And he drove away with clatter, To the village famed of Saari, There to woo the Flower of Saari, She, the peerless maid of Saari. 110

But the women ridiculed him, And the maidens laughed and jeered him. In the lane he drove most strangely, Strangely to the farm came driving, Turned the sledge all topsy-turvy, At the gate he overturned it.

Then the lively Lemminkainen Mouth awry, and head downsunken, While his black beard he was twisting, Spoke aloud the words which follow: 120 "Never aught like this I witnessed, Never saw I, never heard I, That the women laughed about me, And the maidens ridiculed me."

Little troubled Lemminkainen, And he spoke the words which follow: "Is there not a place in Saari, On the firm ground of the island, For the sport that I will show you, And for dancing on the greensward, 130 With the joyous girls of Saari, With their fair unbraided tresses?"

Then the Saari maidens answered, Spoke the maidens of the headland: "There is room enough in Saari, On the firm ground of the island, For the sport that you shall show us, And for dancing on the greensward, For the milkmaids in the meadows, And the herd-boys in their dances; 140 Very lean are Saari's children, But the foals are sleek and fattened."

Little troubled Lemminkainen, But engaged himself as herd-boy, Passed his days among the meadows, And his nights 'mid lively maidens, Sporting with the charming maidens, Toying with their unbound tresses.

Thus the lively Lemminkainen, He the handsome Kaukomieli, 150 Ended soon the women's laughter, And the joking of the maidens. There was not a single daughter, Not a maid, however modest, But he did not soon embrace her, And remain awhile beside her.

One alone of all the maidens, Of the mighty race of Saari, Would not list to any lover, Not the greatest man among them; 160 Kyllikki, the fairest maiden, Loveliest flower of all in Saari.

Then the lively Lemminkainen, He the handsome Kaukomieli, Wore a hundred boats to tatters, Rowed in twain a hundred oars As he strove to win the maiden, Kyllikki herself to conquer.

Kyllikki the lovely maiden Answered him in words that follow: 170 "Wherefore wander here, O weakling. Racing round me like a plover, Always seeking for a maiden, With her tin-adorned girdle? I myself will never heed you Till the stone is ground to powder. Till the pestle's stamped to pieces, And the mortar smashed to atoms.

"Nought I care for such a milksop, Such a milksop, such a humbug; 180 I must have a graceful husband, I myself am also graceful; I must have a shapely husband, I myself am also shapely; And a well-proportioned husband, I myself am also handsome."

But a little time thereafter, Scarce had half a month passed over, On a certain day it happened. As was usual in the evenings, 190 All the girls had met for pleasure, And the beauteous maids were dancing; In a grove near open country, On a lovely space of heathland. Kyllikki was first among them, She the far-famed Flower of Saari. Thither came the ruddy scoundrel, There drove lively Lemminkainen, With the best among his horses, With the horse that he had chosen, 200 Right into the green arena Where the beauteous maids were dancing. Kyllikki he seized and lifted, Then into the sledge he pushed her, And upon the bearskin sat her, That upon the sledge was lying.

With his whip he lashed the stallion, And he cracked the lash above him, And he started on his journey, And he cried while driving onward: 210 "O ye maidens, may ye never In your lives betray the secret, Speak of how I drove among you. And have carried off the maiden.

"But if you will not obey me, You will fall into misfortune; To the war I'll sing your lovers, And the youths beneath the sword-blades, That you hear no more about them, See them not in all your lifetime, 220 Either in the streets when walking. Or across the fields when driving."

Kyllikki lamented sorely, Sobbed the beauteous Flower of Saari: "Let me but depart in safety, Let the child depart in safety, Set me free to journey homeward To console my weeping mother.

"If you will not now release me, Set me free to journey homeward, 230 O then I have five strong brothers, And my uncle's sons are seven, Who can run with hare-like swiftness, And will haste the maid to rescue."

When she could not gain her freedom, She began to weep profusely, And she spoke the words which follow: "I, poor maid, was born for nothing, And for nought was born and fostered, And my life was lived for nothing, 240 Since I fall to one unworthy, In a worthless fellow's clutches, One for battle always ready, And a rude ferocious warrior."

Answered lively Lemminkainen, Said the handsome Kaukomieli: "Kyllikki, my dearest heart-core, Thou my sweetest little berry, Do not vex yourself so sorely, Do not thus give way to sadness. 250 I will cherish you when eating, And caress you on my journeys, Whether sitting, whether standing, Always near when I am resting.

"Wherefore then should you be troubled, Wherefore should you sigh for sorrow? Are you therefore grieved so sorely, Therefore do you sigh for trouble, Lest the cows or bread might fail you, Or provisions be deficient? 260

"Do not vex yourself so sorely, I have cows enough and plenty, Plenty are there, milk to yield me, Some, Muurikkis, in the marshes, Some, Mansikkis, on the hill-sides, Some, Puolukkas, on the clearing, Sleek they are, although unfoddered. Fine they are, although untended. In the evening none need bind them, In the evening none need loose them, 270 No one need provide them fodder, Nor give salt in morning hours.

"Or perchance are you lamenting, Sighing thus so full of trouble, That I am not high descended, Nor was born of noble lineage?

"If I am not high descended, Nor was born of noble lineage, Yet have I a sword of keenness, Gleaming brightly in the battle. 280 This is surely high descended, And has come of noble lineage, For the blade was forged by Hiisi And by Jumala 'twas polished, Thus am I so high descended. And I come of noblest lineage, With my sword so keenly sharpened Gleaming brightly in the battle."

But the maiden sighed with anguish, And in words like these made answer, 290 "O thou Ahti, son of Lempi, If you would caress the maiden, Keep her at your side for ever. Dove-like in thy arms for ever, Pledge thyself by oaths eternal, Not again to join in battle, Whether love of gold may lure you, Or your wish is fixed on silver."

Then the lively Lemminkainen Answered in the words which follow: 300 "Here I swear, by oaths eternal, Not again to join in battle, Whether love of gold may lure me, Or my wish is fixed on silver. But thyself on oath must pledge thee, Not to wander to the village, Whether for the love of dancing, Or to loiter in the pathways."

Then they took the oaths between them, And with oaths eternal bound them, 310 There in Jumala's high presence, In the sight of the Almighty, Ahti should not go to battle, Nor should Kylli seek the village.

Then the lively Lemminkainen Whipped his steed to faster running, Shook the reins to urge him onward, And he spoke the words which follow: "Now farewell to Saari's meadows, Roots of pine, and trunks of fir-trees, 320 Where I wandered for a summer, Where I tramped throughout the winter, And on cloudy nights took shelter, Hiding from the stormy weather, While I waited for my dear one, And to bear away my darling."

On he urged his prancing courser, Till he saw his home before him, And the maiden spoke as follows, And in words like these addressed him: 330 "Lo, I see a hut before us, Looking like a place of famine. Tell me whose may be the cottage, Whose may be this wretched dwelling?"

Then the lively Lemminkainen Answered in the words which follow: "Do not grieve about the hovel, Sigh not for the hut before you. We will build us other houses, And establish better dwellings, 340 Built of all the best of timber, With the very best of planking."

Thus the lively Lemminkainen Reached again his home in safety, Finding there his dearest mother, She, his old and much-loved mother.

And his mother spoke as follows, And expressed herself in thiswise: "Long, my son, have you been absent, Long in foreign lands been roaming." 350

Said the lively Lemminkainen, And he spoke the words which follow: "I have brought to shame the women, With the modest girls have sported, And have well repaid the laughter, And the jests they heaped upon me. To my sledge the best I carried, And upon the rug I sat her, And between the runners laid her, And beneath the rug I hid her; 360 Thus repaid the laughing women, And the joking of the maidens.

"O my mother, who hast borne me, O my mother, who hast reared me, I have gained what I have sought for, And have won what most I longed for. Now prepare the best of bolsters, And the softest of the cushions, In my native land to rest me. With the young and lovely maiden." 370

Then his mother spoke as follows, And in words like these expressed her: "Now to Jumala be praises, Praise to thee, O great Creator For the daughter thou hast sent me, Who can fan the flames up brightly, Who can work at weaving deftly, And is skilful, too, in spinning, And accomplished, too, in washing, And can bleach the clothes to whiteness. 380

"For thy own weal thank him also; Good is won, and good brought homeward: Good decreed by the Creator, Good that's granted by his mercy. On the snow is fair the bunting, Fairer yet is she beside thee; White the foam upon the water, Whiter yet this noble lady: On the lake the duck is lovely, Lovelier yet thy cherished darling; 390 Brilliant is a star in heaven, Brighter yet thy promised fair one.

"Let the floors be wide expanded, And the windows widened greatly, Let new walls be now erected, All the house be greatly bettered, And the threshold new-constructed, Place new doors upon the threshold, For the youthful bride beside you, She, of all the very fairest, 400 She, the best of all the maidens, And the noblest in her lineage."



RUNO XII.—LEMMINKAINEN'S FIRST EXPEDITION TO POHJOLA

Argument

Kyllikki forgets her oath and goes to the village, whereupon Lemminkainen is enraged and resolves to divorce her immediately, and to set forth to woo the Maiden of Pohja (1-128). His mother does her utmost to dissuade him, telling him that he will very probably be killed. Lemminkainen, who is brushing his hair, throws the brush angrily out of his hand and declares that blood shall flow from the brush if he should come to harm (129-212). He makes ready, starts on his journey, comes to Pohjola, and sings all the men out of the homestead of Pohjola; and only neglects to enchant one wicked cowherd (213-504).

Then did Ahti Lemminkainen, He the handsome Kaukolainen Live awhile a life of quiet With the young bride he had chosen, And he went not forth to battle, Nor went Kylli to the village.

But at length one day it happened In the early morning hours, Forth went Ahti Lemminkainen To the place where spawn the fishes, 10 And he came not home at evening, And at nightfall he returned not. Kyllikki then sought the village, There to dance with sportive maidens.

Who shall now the tidings carry, Who will now convey a message? Ainikki 'twas, Ahti's sister, She it was who brought the tidings, She it was conveyed the message. "Ahti, O my dearest brother, 20 Kyllikki has sought the village, Entered there the doors of strangers, Where the village girls are sporting, Dancing with unbraided tresses."

Ahti then, for ever boyish, He the lively Lemminkainen, Grew both sorrowful and angry, And for long was wild with fury, And he spoke the words which follow: "O my mother, aged woman, 30 Wash my shirt, and wash it quickly In the black snake's deadly venom, Dry it then, and dry it quickly That I may go forth to battle, And contend with youths of Pohja, And o'erthrow the youths of Lapland. Kyllikki has sought the village, Entered there the doors of strangers, There to dance with sportive maidens, With their tresses all unbraided." 40

Kyllikki made answer promptly, She his favoured bride responded: "Ahti, O my dearest husband, Do not now depart to battle! I beheld while I was sleeping, While my slumber was the deepest, From the hearth the flames were flashing, Flashing forth with dazzling brightness, Leaping up below the windows, To the furthest walls extending, 50 Then throughout the house blazed fiercely, Like a cataract in its fury, O'er the surface of the flooring, And from window unto window."

But the lively Lemminkainen Answered in the words which follow: "Nought I trust in dreams of women, Nor rely on woman's insight. O my mother who hast borne me, Bring me here my war-shirt quickly, 60 Bring me, too, my mail for battle, For my inclination leads me Hence to drink the beer of battle, And to taste the mead of combat."

Then his mother spoke in answer: "O my son, my dearest Ahti, Do thou not go forth to battle! In the house is beer in plenty, In the barrels made of alder. And behind the taps of oakwood. 70 It is seasoned now for drinking, And all day canst thou be singing."

Said the lively Lemminkainen, "But for home-brewed ale I care not, Rather would I drink stream-water, From the end of tarry rudder, And this drink were sweeter to me Than the beer in all our cellars. Bring me here my war-shirt quickly, Bring me, too, my mail for battle. 80 I will seek the homes of Pohja, And o'erthrow the youths of Lapland, And for gold will ask the people, And I will demand their silver."

Then said Lemminkainen's mother, "O my son, my dearest Ahti, We ourselves have gold in plenty, Silver plenty in the storeroom. Only yesterday it happened, In the early hours of morning, 90 Ploughed the slave a field of vipers, Full of twining, twisting serpents, And a chest-lid raised the ploughshare, And the chest was full of money. Coins by hundreds there were hidden, Thousands there were squeezed together, To our stores the chest was carried, In the loft we stored it safely."

Said the lively Lemminkainen, "Nought I care for home-stored treasures. 100 I will win me marks in battle, Treasures won by far are better, Than the gold in all our storerooms, Or the silver found in ploughing. Bring me here my war-shirt quickly, Bring me, too, my mail for battle, I will go to war in Pohja, To destroy the sons of Lapland.

"There my inclination leads me And my understanding drives me, 110 And my own ears shall inform me, And my own eyes show me truly, If in Pohjola a maiden, In Pimentola a maiden, Is not longing for a lover, For the best of men desirous."

Then said Lemminkainen's mother, "O my son, my dearest Ahti, Kyllikki at home is with thee, Fairest she of all the housewives. 120 Strange it were to see two women In a bed beside one husband."

Said the lively Lemminkainen, "Kyllikki has sought the village. Let her go to all the dances, Let her sleep in all the houses, Where the village girls are sporting, Dancing with unbraided tresses."

Still his mother would dissuade him, And the aged woman warned him: 130 "Yet beware, my son, and go not Unto Pohjola's dread homestead, Destitute of magic knowledge, Destitute of all experience, There to meet the youths of Pohja, And to conquer Lapland's children! There the Laplanders will sing you, And the Turja men will thrust you, Head in clay, and mouth in charcoal, With your arms where sparks are flying, 140 And your hands in glowing embers, There upon the burning hearthstones."

Lemminkainen heard and answered: "Once some sorcerers would enchant me, Wizards charm, and snakes would blast me. As three Laplanders attempted Through the night in time of summer, On a rock all naked standing, Wearing neither clothes nor waistband; Not a rag was twisted round them, 150 But they got what I could give them, Like the miserable codfish, Like the axe on stone that's battered, Or against the rock the auger, Or on slippery ice a sabot, Or like Death in empty houses.

"Otherwise indeed they threatened, Otherwise events had happened, For they wanted to o'erthrow me, Threatened they would sink me deeply 160 In the swamp when I was walking, That in mire I might be sunken, In the mud my chin pushed downward, And my beard in filthy places. But indeed a man they found me, And they did not greatly fright me, I myself put forth my magic, And began my spells to mutter, Sang the wizards with their arrows, And the archers with their weapons, 170 Sorcerers with their knives of iron, Soothsayers with their pointed weapons, Under Tuoni's mighty Cataract, Where the surge is most terrific, Underneath the highest cataract, 'Neath the worst of all the whirlpools. There the sorcerers now may slumber, There repose beneath their blankets, Till the grass may spring above them, Through their heads and caps sprout upward, 180 Through the arm-pits of the sorcerers, Piercing through their shoulder-muscles, While the wizards sleep in soundness, Sleeping there without protection."

Still his mother would restrain him, Hinder Lemminkainen's journey, Once again her son dissuaded, And the dame held back the hero. "Do not go, O do not venture To that cold and dreary village, 190 To the gloomy land of Pohja. There destruction sure awaits you, Evil waits for thee, unhappy, Ruin, lively Lemminkainen! Hadst thou hundred mouths to speak with, Even so, one could not think it, Nor that by thy songs of magic Lapland's sons would be confounded. For you know not Turja's language, Not the tongue they speak in Lapland." 200

Then the lively Lemminkainen, He the handsome Kaukomieli, As it chanced, his hair was brushing, And with greatest neatness brushed it. To the wall his brush then cast he, To the stove the comb flung after, And again he spoke and answered, In the very words which follow: "Ruin falls on Lemminkainen, Evil waits for him unhappy, 210 When the brush with blood is running, And the comb with blood is streaming."

Then went lively Lemminkainen, To the gloomy land of Pohja, 'Spite the warnings of his mother, 'Gainst the aged woman's counsel. First he armed him, and he girt him. In his coat of mail he clad him, With a belt of steel encompassed, And he spoke the words which follow: 220 "Stronger feels a man in armour, In the best of iron mail-coats, And of steel a magic girdle, As a wizard 'gainst magicians. Then no trouble need alarm him, Nor the greatest evil fright him."

Then he grasped his sword so trusty, Took his blade, like flame that glittered, Which by Hiisi's self was whetted. And by Jumala was polished. 230 By his side the hero girt it, Thrust in sheath with leather lining.

How shall now the man conceal him, And the mighty hero hide him? There a little time he hid him, And the mighty one concealed him, 'Neath the beam above the doorway, By the doorpost of the chamber. In the courtyard by the hayloft, By the gate of all the furthest. 240

Thus it was the hero hid him From the sight of all the women, But such art is not sufficient, And such caution would not serve him, For he likewise must protect him From the heroes of the people, There where two roads have their parting. On a blue rock's lofty summit, And upon the quaking marshes, Where the waves are swiftly coursing, 250 Where the waterfall is rushing, In the winding of the rapids.

Then the lively Lemminkainen Spoke the very words which follow: "Rise ye up from earth, O swordsmen, You, the earth's primeval heroes, From the wells arise, ye warriors, From the rivers rise, ye bowmen! With thy dwarfs arise, O woodlands Forest, come with all thy people, 260 Mountain-Ancient, with thy forces, Water-Hiisi, with thy terrors, Water-Mistress, with thy people, With thy scouts, O Water-Father, All ye maidens from the valleys, Richly robed, among the marshes, Come ye to protect a hero, Comrades of a youth most famous, That the sorcerers' arrows strike not, Nor the swords of the magicians, 270 Nor the knife-blades of enchanters, Nor the weapons of the archers.

"If this be not yet sufficient, Still I know of other measures, And implore the very Highest, Even Ukko in the heavens, He of all the clouds the ruler, Of the scattered clouds conductor.

"Ukko, thou of Gods the highest, Aged Father in the heavens, 280 Thou amidst the clouds who breathest, Thou amid the air who speakest, Give me here a sword of fire, By a sheath of fire protected, That I may resist misfortune, And I may avoid destruction, Overthrow the powers infernal, Overcome the water-sorcerers, That all foes that stand before me, And the foes who stand behind me, 290 And above me and beside me, May be forced to own my power. Crush the sorcerers, with their arrows, The magicians, with their knife-blades, And the wizards with their sword-blades, All the scoundrels with their weapons."

Then the lively Lemminkainen, He the handsome Kaukomieli, From the bush his courser whistled, From the grass, the gold-maned courser. 300 Thereupon the horse he harnessed, In the shafts the fiery courser, In the sledge himself he seated, And the sledge began to rattle. O'er the horse his whip he flourished, Cracked the whip, and urged him onward, Started quickly on his journey. Rocked the sledge, the way grew shorten And the silver sand was scattered, And the golden heather crackled. 310

Thus he drove one day, a second; Drove upon the third day likewise, And at length upon the third day Came the hero to a village. Then the lively Lemminkainen Drove the rattling sledge straight onward Forth along the furthest pathway. To the furthest of the houses, And he asked upon the thresholds Speaking from behind the window: 320 "Is there some one in this household Who can loose my horse's harness, And can sink the shaft-poles for me, And can loose the horse's collar?"

From the floor a child made answer. And a boy from out the doorway: "There is no one in this threshold, Who can loose your horse's harness, Or can sink the shaft-poles for you. Or can loose the horse's collar." 330