Chapter IV: Part 4

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
With the very bluest stockings, 180
Thereupon the maiden flattered,
And he wheedled and caressed her,
With one hand the horse controlling,
On the maiden's breast the other.

Then he sported with the maiden,
Wearied out the tin-adorned one,
'Neath the rug all copper-tinselled,
And upon the furs all spotted.

Then when Jumala brought morning,
On the second day thereafter, 190
Then the damsel spoke unto him,
And she asked, and spoke as follows:
"Tell me now of your relations,
What the brave race that you spring from,
From a mighty race it seems me,
Offspring of a mighty father."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow:
"No, my race is not a great one,
Not a great one, not a small one, 200
I am just of middle station,
Kalervo's unhappy offspring,
Stupid boy, and very foolish,
Worthless child, and good for nothing.
Tell me now about your people,
And the brave race that you spring from,
Perhaps from mighty race descended,
Offspring of a mighty father."

And the girl made answer quickly,
And she spoke the words which follow: 210
"No, my race is not a great one,
Not a great one, not a small one,
I am just of middle station,
Kalervo's unhappy daughter,
Stupid girl, and very foolish,
Worthless child, and good for nothing.

"When I was a little infant,
Living with my tender mother,
To the wood I went for berries,
'Neath the mountain sought for raspberries. 220
On the plains I gathered strawberries,
Underneath the mountain, raspberries,
Plucked by day, at night I rested,
Plucked for one day and a second,
And upon the third day likewise,
But the pathway home I found not,
In the woods the pathways led me,
And the footpath to the forest.

"There I stood, and burst out weeping,
Wept for one day and a second, 230
And at length upon the third day,
Then I climbed a mighty mountain,
To the peak of all the highest.
On the peak I called and shouted,
And the woods made answer to me,
While the heaths re-echoed likewise:
'Do not call, O girl so senseless,
Shout not, void of understanding!
There is no one who can hear you,
None at home to hear your shouting.' 240

"Then upon the third and fourth days,
Lastly on the fifth and sixth days,
I to take my life attempted,
Tried to hurl me to destruction,
But by no means did I perish,
Nor could I, the wretched perish.

"Would that I, poor wretch, had perished,
Hapless one, had met destruction,
That the second year thereafter,
Or the third among the summers, 250
I had shone forth as a grass-blade,
As a lovely flower existed,
On the ground a beauteous berry,
Even as a scarlet cranberry,
Then I had not heard these horrors,
Would not now have known these terrors."

Soon as she had finished speaking,
And her speech had scarce completed,
Quickly from the sledge she darted,
And she rushed into the river, 260
In the furious foaming cataract,
And amid the raging whirlpool,
There she found the death she sought for,
There at length did death o'ertake her,
Found in Tuonela a refuge,
In the waves she found compassion.

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
From his sledge at once descended,
And began to weep full loudly,
With a piteous lamentation. 270
"Woe my day, O me unhappy,
Woe to me, and all my household,
For indeed my very sister,
I my mother's child have outraged!
Woe my father, woe my mother,
Woe to you, my aged parents,
To what purpose have you reared me,
Reared me up to be so wretched!
Far more happy were my fortune,
Had I ne'er been born or nurtured, 280
Never in the air been strengthened,
Never in this world had entered.
Wrongly I by death was treated,
Nor disease has acted wisely,
That they did not fall upon me,
And when two nights old destroy me."

With his knife he loosed the collar,
From the sledge the chains he severed,
On the horse's back he vaulted,
On the whitefront steed he galloped, 290
But a little way he galloped,
But a little course had traversed,
When he reached his father's dwelling,
Reached the grass-plot of his father.

In the yard he found his mother,
"O my mother who hast borne me,
O that thou, my dearest mother,
E'en as soon as thou hadst borne me,
In the bath-room smoke hadst laid me,
And the bath-house doors had bolted, 300
That amid the smoke I smothered,
And when two nights old had perished,
Smothered me among the blankets,
With the curtain thou hadst choked me,
Thrust the cradle in the fire,
Pushed it in the burning embers.

"If the village folk had asked thee,
'Why is in the room no cradle?
Wherefore have you locked the bath-house?'
Then might this have been the answer: 310
'In the fire I burned the cradle,
Where on hearth the fire is glowing,
While I made the malt in bath-house,
While the malt was fully sweetened.'"

Then his mother asked him quickly,
Asked him thus, the aged woman:
"O my son, what happened to thee,
What the dreadful news thou bringest?
Seems from Tuonela thou comest;
As from Manala thou comest." 320

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Horrors now must be reported,
And most horrible misfortunes.
I have wronged my very sister,
And my mother's child dishonoured.

"First I went and paid the taxes,
And I also paid the land-dues,
And by chance there came a maiden,
And I sported with the maiden, 330
And she was my very sister,
And the child of mine own mother.

"Thereupon to death she cast her,
Plunged herself into destruction,
In the furious foaming cataract,
And amid the raging whirlpool.
But I cannot now determine
Not decide and not imagine
How myself to death should cast me,
I the hapless one, should slay me, 340
In the mouths of wolves all howling,
In the throats of bears all growling,
In the whale's vast belly perish,
Or between the teeth of lake-pike."

But his mother made him answer:
"Do not go, my son, my dearest,
To the mouths of wolves all howling,
Nor to throats of bears all growling,
Neither to the whale's vast belly,
Neither to the teeth of lake-pike. 350
Large enough the Cape of Suomi,
Wide enough are Savo's borders,
For a man to hide from evil,
And a criminal conceal him.
Hide thee there for five years, six years,
There for nine long years conceal thee,
Till a time of peace has reached thee,
And the years have calmed thine anguish."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow: 360
"Nay, I will not go in hiding,
Fly not forth, a wicked outcast,
To the mouth of Death I wander,
To the gate of Kalma's courtyard,
To the place of furious fighting,
To the battle-field of heroes.
Upright still is standing Unto,
And the wicked man unfallen,
Unavenged my father's sufferings,
Unavenged my mother's tear-drops, 370
Counting not my bitter sufferings,
Wrongs that I myself have suffered."

RUNO XXXVI.--THE DEATH OF KULLERVO

_Argument_

Kullervo prepares for war and leaves home joyfully, for no one but his mother is sorry that he is going to his death (1-154). He comes to Untamola, lays waste the whole district, and burns the homestead (155-250). On returning home he finds his home deserted, and no living thing about the place but an old black dog, with which he goes into the forest to shoot game for food (251-296). While traversing the forest he arrives at the place where he met his sister, and ends his remorse by killing himself with his own sword (297-360).

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
With the very bluest stockings,
Now prepared himself for battle,
And prepared himself for warfare.
For an hour his sword he sharpened,
Sharpened spear-points for another.

Then his mother spoke unto him,
"Do not go, my son unhappy,
Go not to this mighty battle,
Go not where the swords are clashing! 10
He who goes for nought to battle,
He who wilful seeks the combat,
In the fight shall find his death-wound,
And shall perish in the conflict,
By the sword-blades shall he perish,
Thus shall fall, and thus shall perish.

"If against a goat thou fightest,
And wouldst meet in fight a he-goat,
Then the goat will overcome thee,
In the mud the he-goat cast thee, 20
That like dog thou home returnest,
Like a frog returnest homeward."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow:
"In the swamps I shall not sink me,
Nor upon the heath will stumble,
In the dwelling-place of ravens,
In the fields where crows are croaking.
If I perish in the battle,
Sinking on the field of battle, 30
Noble 'tis to fall in battle,
Fine 'mid clash of swords to perish,
Exquisite the battle-fever,
Quickly hence a youth it hurries,
Takes him quickly forth from evil,
There he falls no more to hunger."

Then his mother spoke and answered,
"If you perish in the battle,
Who shall cater for your father,
And shall tend the old man daily?" 40

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words that follow:
"Let him perish on the dust-heap,
Leave him in the yard to perish."

"Who shall cater for your mother,
And shall tend the old dame daily?"

"Let her die upon a haycock,
In the cowshed let her stifle."

"Who shall cater for thy brother,
Tend him day by day in future?" 50

"Let him perish in the forest,
Let him faint upon the meadow."

"Who shall cater for thy sister,
Tend her day by day in future?"

"Let her fall in well, and perish,
Let her fall into the wash-tub."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Just as he his home was leaving,
Spoke these words unto his father:
"Now farewell, O noble father! 60
Shall you perhaps be weeping sorely,
If you hear that I have perished,
And have vanished from the people,
And have perished in the battle?"

Then his father gave him answer:
"Not for thee shall I be weeping,
If I hear that you have perished,
For another son I'll rear me,
And a better son will rear me,
And a son by far more clever." 70

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Nor for you shall I be weeping,
If I hear that you have perished.
I will make me such a father,
Mouth of clay, and head of stonework,
Eyes of cranberries from the marshes,
And a beard of withered stubble,
Legs of willow-twigs will make him,
Flesh of rotten trees will make him." 80

Then he spoke unto his brother:
"Now farewell, my dearest brother.
Shall you weep for my destruction,
If you hear that I have perished,
And have vanished from the people,
And have fallen in the battle?"

But his brother gave him answer,
"Not for you shall I be weeping,
If I hear that you have perished.
I will find myself a brother, 90
Better brother far than thou art,
And a brother twice as handsome."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Nor for you shall I be weeping,
If I hear that you have perished.
I will make me such a brother,
Head of stone, and mouth of sallow,
Eyes of cranberries I will make him,
Make him hair of withered stubble, 100
Legs of willow-twigs will make him,
Flesh of rotten trees will make him."

Then he spoke unto his sister,
"Now farewell, my dearest sister.
Shall you weep for my destruction,
If you hear that I have perished,
And have vanished from the people,
And have perished in the battle?"

But his sister gave him answer:
"Not for you shall I be weeping, 110
If I hear that you have perished.
I will find myself a brother,
Better brother far than thou art,
And a brother far more clever."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Nor for you shall I be weeping,
If I hear that you have perished.
I will make me such a sister,
Head of stone and mouth of sallow, 120
Eyes of cranberries I will make her,
Make her hair of withered stubble,
Ears of water-lily make her,
And of maple make her body."

Then he said unto his mother,
"O my mother, O my dearest,
Thou the fair one who hast borne me,
Thou the golden one who nursed me,
Shalt thou weep for my destruction,
Shouldst thou hear that I have perished, 130
And have vanished from the people,
And have perished in the battle?"

Then his mother gave him answer,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Not thou knowest a mother's feelings,
Nor a mother's heart esteemest.
I shall weep for thy destruction,
If I hear that thou hast perished,
And from out the people vanished,
And have perished in the battle; 140
Weep until the house is flooded,
Weep until the floor is swimming,
Weep until the paths are hidden,
And with tears the cowsheds weighted,
Weep until the snows are slippery,
Till the ground is bare and slippery,
Lands unfrozen teem with verdure,
And my tears flow through the greenness.

"If I cannot keep on weeping,
And no strength is left for grieving, 150
Weeping in the people's presence,
I will weep in bath-room hidden,
Till the seats with tears are flowing,
And the flooring all is flooded."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
With the very bluest stockings,
Went with music forth to battle,
Joyfully he sought the conflict,
Playing tunes through plains and marshes,
Shouting over all the heathland, 160
Crashing onwards through the meadows,
Trampling down the fields of stubble.

And a messenger o'ertook him,
In his ear these words he whispered:
"At thy home has died thy father,
And thy aged parent perished.
Now return to gaze upon him,
And arrange for his interment."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Made him answer on the instant: 170
"Is he dead, so let him perish.
In the house there is a gelding,
Which unto the grave can drag him,
And can sink him down to Kalma."

Played he, as he passed the marshes,
And he shouted in the clearings,
And a messenger o'ertook him,
In his ear these words he whispered:
"At thy home has died thy brother,
And thy parent's child has perished. 180
Now return to gaze upon him,
And arrange for his interment."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Made him answer on the instant:
"Is he dead, so let him perish.
In the house there is a stallion,
Which unto the grave can drag him,
And can sink him down to Kalma."

Through the marshes passed he, playing,
Blew his horn amidst the fir-woods, 190
And a messenger o'ertook him,
In his ear these words he whispered:
"At thy home has died thy sister,
And thy parent's child has perished.
Now return to gaze upon her,
And arrange for her interment."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Made him answer on the instant:
"Is she dead, so let her perish.
In the house a mare is waiting, 200
Which unto the grave can drag her,
And can sink her down to Kalma."

Through the meadows marched he shouting,
In the grassfields he was shouting,
And a messenger o'ertook him,
In his ear these words he whispered:
"Now has died thy tender mother,
And thy darling mother perished.
Now return to gaze upon her,
And arrange for her interment." 210

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Woe to me, a youth unhappy,
For my mother now has perished,
Wearied as she made the curtains,
And the counterpane embroidered.
With her long spool she was working,
As she turned around her spindle.
I was not at her departure,
Near her when her soul was parting. 220
Perhaps the cold was great and killed her,
Or perchance was bread too scanty.

"In the house with care, O wash her,
With the Saxon soap, the finest,
Wind her then in silken wrappings,
Wrap her in the finest linen,
Thus unto the grave convey her,
Sink her gently down to Kalma,
Then upraise the songs of mourning,
Let resound the songs of mourning, 230
For not yet can I turn homeward,
Untamo is still unfallen,
Yet unfelled the man of evil,
Undestroyed is yet the villain."

Forth he went to battle, playing,
Went to Untola rejoicing,
And he said the words which follow:
"Ukko, thou, of Gods the highest,
Give me now a sword befitting,
Give me now a sword most splendid, 240
Which were worth an army to me,
Though a hundred came against me."

Then the sword he asked was granted,
And a sword of all most splendid,
And he slaughtered all the people,
Untamo's whole tribe he slaughtered,
Burned the houses all to ashes,
And with flame completely burned them,
Leaving nothing but the hearthstones,
Nought but in each yard the rowan. 250

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Then to his own home retired,
To his father's former dwelling,
To the home-fields of his parents.
Empty did he find the homestead,
Desolate the open places;
No one forward came to greet him,
No one came his hand to offer.

To the hearth he stretched his hand out,
On the hearth the coals were frozen, 260
And he knew on his arrival,
That his mother was not living.

To the stove he stretched his hand out,
At the stove the stones were frozen,
And he knew on his arrival,
That his father was not living.

On the floor his eyes then casting,
All he noticed in confusion,
And he knew on his arrival,
That his sister was not living. 270

To the mooring-place he hastened,
But no boats were at their moorings,
And he knew on his arrival,
That his brother was not living.

Thereupon he broke out weeping,
And he wept one day, a second,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"O my mother, O my dearest,
Hast thou left me nought behind thee,
When thou livedst in this country? 280

"But thou hearest not, O mother,
Even though my eyes are sobbing,
And my temples are lamenting,
And my head is all complaining."

In the grave his mother wakened,
And beneath the mould made answer:
"Still there lives the black dog, Musti,
Go with him into the forest,
At thy side let him attend thee,
Take him to the wooded country, 290
Where the forest rises thickest,
Where reside the forest-maidens,
Where the Blue Maids have their dwelling,
And the birds frequent the pine-trees,
There to seek for their assistance,
And to seek to win their favour."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
At his side the black dog taking,
Tracked his path through trees of forest,
Where the forest rose the thickest. 300
But a short way had he wandered,
But a little way walked onward,
When he reached the stretch of forest,
Recognized the spot before him,
Where he had seduced the maiden,
And his mother's child dishonoured.

There the tender grass was weeping,
And the lovely spot lamenting,
And the young grass was deploring,
And the flowers of heath were grieving, 310
For the ruin of the maiden,
For the mother's child's destruction.
Neither was the young grass sprouting,
Nor the flowers of heath expanding,
Nor the spot had covered over,
Where the evil thing had happened,
Where he had seduced the maiden,
And his mother's child dishonoured.

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Grasped the sharpened sword he carried, 320
Looked upon the sword and turned it,
And he questioned it and asked it,
And he asked the sword's opinion,
If it was disposed to slay him,
To devour his guilty body,
And his evil blood to swallow.

Understood the sword his meaning,
Understood the hero's question,
And it answered him as follows:
"Wherefore at thy heart's desire 330
Should I not thy flesh devour,
And drink up thy blood so evil?
I who guiltless flesh have eaten,
Drank the blood of those who sinned not?"

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
With the very bluest stockings,
On the ground the haft set firmly,
On the heath the hilt pressed tightly,
Turned the point against his bosom,
And upon the point he threw him, 340
Thus he found the death he sought for,
Cast himself into destruction.

Even so the young man perished,
Thus died Kullervo the hero,
Thus the hero's life was ended,
Perished thus the hapless hero.

Then the aged Väinämöinen,
When he heard that he had perished,
And that Kullervo had fallen,
Spoke his mind in words that follow: 350
"Never, people, in the future,
Rear a child in crooked fashion,
Rocking them in stupid fashion,
Soothing them to sleep like strangers.
Children reared in crooked fashion,
Boys thus rocked in stupid fashion,
Grow not up with understanding,
Nor attain to man's discretion,
Though they live till they are aged,
And in body well-developed." 360

RUNO XXXVII.--THE GOLD AND SILVER BRIDE

_Argument_

Ilmarinen weeps long for his dead wife and then forges himself a wife of gold and silver with great labour and trouble (1-162). At night he rests by the golden bride, but finds in the morning that the side which he has turned towards her is quite cold (163-196). He offers his golden bride to Väinämöinen, who declines to receive her, and advises him to forge more useful things, or to send her to other countries where people wish for gold (197-250).

Afterwards smith Ilmarinen
Mourned his wife throughout the evenings,
And through sleepless nights was weeping,
All the days bewailed her fasting,
And he mourned her all the mornings,
In the morning hours lamented,
Since the time his young wife perished,
Death the fair one had o'ertaken.
In his hand he swung no longer,
Copper handle of his hammer, 10
Nor his hammer's clang resounded,
While a month its course was running.

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"Hapless youth, I know no longer,
How to pass my sad existence,
For at night I sit and sleep not,
Always in the night comes sorrow,
And my strength grows weak from trouble.

"All my evenings now are weary,
Sorrowful are all my mornings, 20
And the nights indeed are dismal,
Worst of all when I am waking.
Grieve I not because 'tis evening,
Sorrow not because 'tis morning,
Trouble not for other seasons;
But I sorrow for my fair one,
And I sorrow for my dear one,
Grieve for her, the dark-browed beauty.

"Sometimes in these times so dismal,
Often in my time of trouble, 30
Often in my dreams at midnight,
Has my hand felt out at nothing,
And my hand seized only trouble,
As it strayed about in strangeness."

Thus the smith awhile lived wifeless,
And without his wife grew older,
Wept for two months and for three months,
But upon the fourth month after,
Gold from out the lake he gathered,
Gathered silver from the billows, 40
And a pile of wood collected,
Nothing short of thirty sledgeloads,
Then he burned the wood to charcoal,
Took the charcoal to the smithy.

Of the gold he took a portion,
And he chose him out some silver,
Even like a ewe of autumn,
Even like a hare of winter,
And the gold to redness heated,
Cast the silver in the furnace, 50
Set his slaves to work the bellows,
And his labourers pressed the bellows.

Toiled the slaves, and worked the bellows,
And the labourers pressed the bellows,
With their ungloved hands they pressed them,
Worked them with their naked shoulders,
While himself, smith Ilmarinen,
Carefully the fire was tending,
As he strove a bride to fashion
Out of gold and out of silver. 60

Badly worked the slaves the bellows,
And the labourers did not press them,
And on this smith Ilmarinen
Went himself to work the bellows.
Once and twice he worked the bellows,
For a third time worked the bellows,
Then looked down into the furnace,
Looking closely to the bellows,
What rose up from out the furnace,
What from out the flames ascended. 70

Then a ewe rose from the furnace,
And it rose from out the bellows.
One hair gold, another copper,
And the third was all of silver;
Others might therein feel pleasure,
Ilmarinen felt no pleasure.

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"Such as you a wolf may wish for,
But I want a golden consort,
One of silver half constructed." 80

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Thrust the ewe into the furnace,
Gold unto the mass he added,
And he added silver to it,
Set his slaves to work the bellows,
And his labourers pressed the bellows.

Toiled the slaves and worked the bellows,
And the labourers pressed the bellows,
With their ungloved hands they pressed them
Worked them with their naked shoulders, 90
While himself, smith Ilmarinen,
Carefully the fire was tending,
As he strove a bride to fashion
Out of gold and out of silver.

Badly worked the slaves the bellows,
And the labourers did not press them,
And on this smith Ilmarinen
Went himself to work the bellows.
Once and twice he worked the bellows,
For the third time worked the bellows, 100
Then looked down into the furnace,
Looking closely to the bellows,
What rose up from out the furnace,
What from out the flames ascended.

Then a foal rose from the furnace,
And it rose from out the bellows,
Mane of gold, and head of silver,
And his hoofs were all of copper;
But though others it delighted,
Ilmarinen felt no pleasure. 110

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"Such as you a wolf may wish for,
But I want a golden consort,
One of silver half constructed."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Thrust the foal into the furnace,
Gold unto the mass he added,
And he added silver to it,
Set his slaves to work the bellows,
And his labourers pressed the bellows. 120

Toiled the slaves and worked the bellows,
And the labourers pressed the bellows,
With their ungloved hands they pressed them,
Worked them with their naked shoulders,
While himself, smith Ilmarinen,
Carefully the fire was tending,
As he strove a bride to fashion,
Out of gold and out of silver.

Badly worked the slaves the bellows,
And the labourers did not press them, 130
And on this, smith Ilmarinen
Went himself to work the bellows,
Once and twice he worked the bellows,
For a third time worked the bellows,
Then looked down into the furnace,
Looking closely to the bellows,
What rose up from out the furnace,
What from out the flames ascended.

Then a maid rose from the furnace,
Golden-locked, from out the bellows, 140
Head of silver, hair all golden,
And her figure all was lovely.
Others might have shuddered at her,
Ilmarinen was not frightened.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Set to work to shape the image,
Worked at night without cessation,
And by day he worked unresting.
Feet he fashioned for the maiden,
Fashioned feet; and hands he made her, 150
But the feet would not support her,
Neither would the arms embrace him.

Ears he fashioned for the maiden,
But the ears served not for hearing,
And a dainty mouth he made her,
Tender mouth and shining eyeballs,
But the mouth served not for speaking,
And the eyes served not for smiling.

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen
"She would be a pretty maiden, 160
If she had the art of speaking,
And had sense, and spoke discreetly."

After this he laid the maiden
On the softest of the blankets,
Smoothed for her the softest pillows,
On the silken bed he laid her.

After this smith Ilmarinen,
Quickly warmed the steaming bath-room,
Took the soap into the bath-room,
And provided twigs for bath-whisks, 170
And of water took three tubs full,
That the little finch should wash her,
And the little goldfinch cleanse her,
Cleanse her beauty from the ashes.

When the smith had also bathed him,
Washed him to his satisfaction,
At the maiden's side he stretched him,
On the softest of the blankets,
'Neath the steel-supported hangings,
'Neath the over-arching iron. 180

After this smith Ilmarinen,
Even on the very first night,
Asked for coverlets in plenty,
And for blankets to protect him,
Also two and three of bearskins,
Five or six of woollen mantles,
All upon one side to lay him,
That towards the golden image.

And one side had warmth sufficient
Which was covered by the bedclothes; 190
That beside the youthful damsel,
Turned towards the golden image,
All that side was fully frozen,
And with frost was quite contracted,
Like the ice on lake when frozen,
Frozen into stony hardness.

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"This is not so pleasant for me.
I will take the maid to Väinö,
Pass her on to Väinämöinen, 200
On his knee as wife to seat her,
Dovelike in his arms to nestle."

So to Väinölä he took her,
And he said upon his coming,
In the very words which follow:
"O thou aged Väinämöinen,
Here I bring a damsel for you,
And a damsel fair to gaze on,
And her mouth gapes not too widely,
And her chin is not too broadened." 210

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Looked upon the golden image,
Looked upon her head all golden,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"Wherefore have you brought her to me,
Brought to me this golden spectre?"

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"With the best intent I brought her,
On your knee as wife to rest her,
Dovelike in your arms to nestle." 220

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"O thou smith, my dearest brother,
Thrust the damsel in the furnace,
Forge all sorts of objects from her,
Or convey her hence to Russia,
Take your image to the Saxons,
Since they wed the spoils of battle,
And they woo in fiercest combat;
But it suits not my position,
Nor to me myself is suited, 230
Thus to woo a bride all golden,
Or distress myself for silver."

Then dissuaded Väinämöinen,
And forbade the wave-sprung hero,
All the rising generation,
Likewise those upgrown already,
For the sake of gold to bow them,
Or debase themselves for silver,
And he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him: 240
"Never, youths, however wretched,
Nor in future, upgrown heroes,
Whether you have large possessions,
Or are poor in your possessions,
In the course of all your lifetime,
While the golden moon is shining,
May you woo a golden woman,
Or distress yourselves for silver,
For the gleam of gold is freezing,
Only frost is breathed by silver." 250

RUNO XXXVIII.--ILMARINEN'S NEW BRIDE FROM POHJOLA

_Argument_

Ilmarinen goes to Pohjola to woo the younger sister of his first wife, but as he receives only insulting words in reply, he becomes angry, seizes the maiden, and starts on his homeward journey (1-124). On the way the maiden treats Ilmarinen with contempt, and provokes him till he changes her into a seagull (125-286). When Ilmarinen comes home, he relates to Väinämöinen how the inhabitants of Pohjola live free from care since they possessed the Sampo; and also tells him how badly his wooing has prospered (287-328).

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
He the great primeval craftsman,
Cast away the golden image,
Cast away the silver damsel,
Afterwards his horse he harnessed,
Yoked before the sledge the chestnut,
On the sledge himself he mounted,
And within the sledge he sat him,
And departed on his journey,
And proposed, as he was driving, 10
He to Pohjola would travel,
There to ask another daughter.

So he drove for one day onward,
Journeyed also on the second,
And at length upon the third day,
Came to Pohjola's broad courtyard.

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress
Came into the yard to meet him,
And began the conversation,
And she turned to him and asked him 20
How her child's health was at present,
If her daughter was contented,
As the daughter-in-law of master,
And the daughter-in-law of mistress.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
Head bowed down, and deeply grieving,
And his cap all sloping sideways,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Do thou not, O mother, ask me,
Do not question me in thiswise 30
How your daughter may be living,
How your dear one now is dwelling!
Death has borne her off already,
Grisly death has seized upon her.
In the ground is now my berry,
On the heath is now my fair one,
And her dark locks 'neath the stubble,
'Neath the grass my silver-fair one.
Give me now your second daughter,
Give me now that youthful maiden, 40
Give her to me, dearest mother,
Give me now your second daughter,
Thus to occupy the dwelling,
And the station of her sister."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Ill have I, unhappy, acted,
And it was a sad misfortune
When to thee my child I promised,
And I gave to thee the other, 50
In her early youth to slumber,
For the rosy-cheeked one perished.
To the mouth of wolf I gave her,
To the jaws of bear when growling.

"No more daughters will I give you,
Nor my daughter will I give you,
That she wash the soot from off you,
And she scratch the soot from off you,
Sooner would I give my daughter,
And would give my tender daughter, 60
To the fiercely-foaming cataract,
To the ever-seething whirlpool,
As a prey to worms of Mana,
To the teeth of pike of Tuoni."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
Mouth and head both turning sideways,
With his black hair in disorder,
As his head he shook in anger,
Pushed his way into the chamber,
And beneath the roof he entered, 70
And he spoke the words which follow:
"Come thou now with me, O maiden,
In the station of thy sister,
And to occupy her dwelling,
Cakes of honey there to bake me,
And the best of ale to brew me."

From the floor there sang a baby,
Thus he sang, and thus made answer:
"Quit our castle, guest unwelcome,
From our doors, O stranger, hasten! 80
Thou before hast harmed our castle,
Evil much hast wrought our castle,
When the first time here thou camest,
And within our doors hast entered.

"Maiden, O my dearest sister,
O rejoice not in this lover,
Neither in his mouth so subtle,
Neither in his feet well-shapen,
For his gums are like a wolf's gums,
Curved his claws like those of foxes, 90
And the claws of bears conceals he,
And his belt-knife blood is drinking,
'Tis with this that heads he severs,
And with this the backs lays open."

Then the maiden's self made answer,
Thus she spoke to Ilmarinen:
"I myself will not go with you,
Trouble not for such a scoundrel,
For your first wife you have murdered,
And my sister you have slaughtered. 100
You perchance would also slay me,
Murder me, as her you murdered.
Such a maiden is deserving
Of a man of greater standing,
And whose form is far more handsome,
In a finer sledge to take me,
To a larger, finer dwelling,
To a better home than thou hast,
Not unto a smith's black coalhouse,
To a stupid husband's homestead." 110

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
He the great primeval craftsman,
Mouth and head both turning sideways,
And his black hair in disorder,
Seized without ado the maiden,
In his grasp he seized the maiden,
From the room he rushed like snowstorm,
Dragged her where his sledge was standing,
In the sledge he pushed the maiden,
And within the sledge he cast her, 120
Started quickly on his journey,
And prepared him for his journey,
With one hand the horse he guided,
On the girl's breast laid the other.

Wept the maiden and lamented,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Now I come where grow the cranberries,
To the swamps where grow the arums,
Now the dove approaches ruin,
And the bird is near destruction. 130

"Hear me now, smith Ilmarinen,
If you will not now release me,
I will smash your sledge to pieces,
And will break it into fragments,
Break it with my knees asunder,
Break it with my legs to fragments."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Answered in the words that follow:
"Know, the sledge by smith was fashioned,
And the boards are bound with iron, 140
And it can withstand the pushing,
And the noble maiden's struggles."

Then the hapless girl lamented,
And bewailed, the copper-belted,
Struggled till she broke her fingers,
Struggled till her hands were twisted,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"If you will not now release me,
To a lake-fish I'll transform me,
In the deepest waves a powan." 150

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Answered in the words which follow:
"Even so you will not 'scape me,
I myself as pike will follow."

Then the hapless girl lamented,
And bewailed, the copper-belted,
Struggled till she broke her fingers,
Struggled till her hands were twisted,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"If you will not now release me, 160
To the wood will I betake me,
Hiding in the rocks like ermine."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Answered in the words which follow:
"Even thus you will not 'scape me,
For as otter I'll pursue you."

Then the hapless girl lamented,
And bewailed, the copper-belted,
Struggled till she broke her fingers,
Struggled till her hands were twisted, 170
And she spoke the words which follow:
"If you will not now release me,
As a lark I'll soar above you,
And behind the clouds will hide me."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Even thus you will not 'scape me,
For as eagle I'll pursue you."

But a little way they journeyed,
Short the distance they had traversed, 180
When the horse pricked ears to listen,
And the long-eared steed was shying.

Then her head the maiden lifted,
In the snow she saw fresh footprints,
And she thereupon inquired,
"What has passed across our pathway?"

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"'Twas a hare that ran across it."

Then the hapless girl was sighing,
Much she sobbed, and much was sighing, 190
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Woe to me, unhappy creature!
Better surely had I found it,
And my lot were surely better
If the hare's track I could follow,
In the traces of the Crook-leg.
Than in sledge of such a suitor,
'Neath the rug of one so wrinkled,
For the hairs of hare are finer,
And his mouth-cleft is more handsome." 200

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
Bit his lips, his head turned sideways,
And the sledge drove rattling onward,
And a little way they journeyed,
When the horse pricked ears to listen,
And the long-eared steed was shying.

Then her head the maiden lifted,
In the snow she saw fresh footprints,
And she thereupon inquired,
"What has passed across our pathway?" 210

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"'Twas a fox that ran across it."

Then the hapless girl was sighing,
Much she sobbed, and much was sighing,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Woe to me, unhappy creature,
Better surely had I found it,
And my lot were surely better,
Were I riding in a fox-sledge,
And in Lapland sledge were fleeing, 220
Than in sledge of such a suitor,
'Neath the rug of one so wrinkled,
For the hairs of fox are finer,
And his mouth-cleft is more handsome."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Bit his lips, his head turned sideways,
And the sledge drove rattling onward,
And a little way they journeyed,
When the horse pricked ears to listen,
And the long-eared steed was shying. 230

Then her head the maiden lifted,
In the snow she saw fresh footprints,
And she thereupon inquired,
"What has passed across our pathway?"

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"'Twas a wolf that ran across it."

Then the hapless girl was sighing,
Much she sobbed, and much was sighing,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Woe to me, unhappy creature! 240
Better surely had I found it,
And my lot were surely better
If a growling wolf I followed,
Tracked the pathway of the Snouted,
Than in sledge of such a suitor,
'Neath the rug of one so wrinkled,
For the hair of wolf is finer,
And his mouth-cleft is more handsome."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Bit his lips, his head turned sideways, 250
And the sledge drove rattling onwards,
And at night they reached a village.

With the journey overwearied,
Slept the smith, and slept profoundly,
And another than her husband
Made the girl laugh as he slept there.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
In the morning when he wakened,
Mouth and head both twisted sideways,
Tossed his black hair in disorder. 260

After this, smith Ilmarinen
Pondered till he spoke as follows:
"Shall I now commence my singing,
Shall I sing a bride like this one,
To a creature of the forest,
Or a creature of the water?

"Not to forest beast I'll sing her,
All the forest would be troubled;
Neither to a water-creature,
Lest the fishes all should shun her; 270
Better slay her with my hanger,
With my sword will I despatch her."

But the sword perceived his object,
Understood the hero's language,
And it spoke the words which follow:
"Not for this was I constructed,
That I should despatch the women,
And the weak I thus should slaughter."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Presently commenced his singing, 280
And began to speak in anger,
Sung his wife into a seamew,
Thenceforth round the cliffs to clamour,
Scream upon the rocks in water,
Moan around the jutting headlands,
Struggle with the winds against her.

After this smith Ilmarinen
In his sledge again dashed forward,
And the sledge drove rattling onward,
Head bowed down in great depression, 290
Back he journeyed to his country,
Till he reached the well-known regions.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Came upon the road to meet him,
And began to speak as follows:
"Ilmarinen, smith and brother,
Wherefore is your mood so gloomy,
Wherefore is your cap pushed sideways,
As from Pohjola thou comest?
How at Pohjola exist they?" 300

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"How at Pohjola exist they?
There the Sampo grinds for ever,
And revolves the pictured cover,
And one day it grinds provisions,
Grinds for sale upon the second,
On the third what needs the household.

"Thus I speak, and tell you truly,
And again repeat it to you,
How at Pohjola exist they, 310
When at Pohjola's the Sampo!
There is ploughing, there is sowing,
There is every kind of increase,
And their welfare is eternal."

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"Ilmarinen, smith and brother,
Where hast thou thy wife abandoned,
Where thy youthful bride so famous,
That you here return without her,
Ever driving homeward wifeless?" 320

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Such a wife she was, I sang her
To the sea-cliffs as a seamew;
Now she screams aloud as seagull,
Shrieks aloud without cessation,
Moans about the rocks in water,
And around the cliffs she clamours."

RUNO XXXIX.--THE EXPEDITION AGAINST POHJOLA

_Argument_

Väinämöinen persuades Ilmarinen to go with him to Pohjola to bring away the Sampo. Ilmarinen consents, and the heroes start off on their journey in a boat (1-330). Lemminkainen hails them from the shore, and on hearing where they are going, proposes to join them, and is accepted as a third comrade (331-426).

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Uttered then the words which follow:
"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,
Unto Pohjola we'll travel,
And will seize this splendid Sampo,
And behold its pictured cover."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Answered in the words which follow:
"No, we cannot seize the Sampo,
Cannot bring the pictured cover, 10
From the gloomy land of Pohja,
Sariola for ever misty.
There the Sampo has been carried,
And removed the pictured cover
Unto Pohjola's stone mountain,
And within the hill of copper.
There by nine locks is it fastened,
And three roots have sprouted from it,
Firmly fixed, nine fathoms deeply.
In the earth the first is rooted, 20
By the water's edge the second,
And the third within the home-hill."

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"O thou smith, my dearest brother,
Unto Pohjola we'll travel,
And will carry off the Sampo.
Let us build a ship enormous,
Fit to carry off the Sampo,
And convey the pictured cover,
Forth from Pohjola's stone mountain, 30
From within the hill of copper,
And the ninefold locks that hold it."

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
"Safest is by land the journey.
Lempo on the lake is brooding,
Death upon its mighty surface,
And the wind might drive us onward,
And the tempest might o'erturn us;
We might have to row with fingers,
And to use our hands for steering." 40

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"Safest is by land the journey,
Safest, but the most fatiguing,
And moreover, full of windings.
Pleasant 'tis in boat on water,
Swaying as the boat glides onward,
Gliding o'er the sparkling water,
Driving o'er its shining surface,
While the wind the boat is rocking,
And the waves drive on the vessel, 50
While the west-wind rocks it gently,
And the south-wind drives it onward,
But let this be as it may be,
If you do not like the lake-voyage,
We by land can journey thither,
And along the shore can journey.

"First a new sword do you forge me,
Make me now a keen-edged weapon,
So that I with beasts can struggle,
Chase away the folks of Pohja. 60
Forth I go to seize the Sampo,
From the cold and dismal village,
From the gloomy land of Pohja,
Sariola for ever misty."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
He the great primeval craftsman,
Cast some iron in the fire,
Steel upon the glowing charcoal,
And of gold he took a handful,
And of silver took a handful, 70
Set the slaves to work the bellows,
And he made the labourers press them.

Worked the slaves the bellows strongly,
Well the labourers pressed the bellows,
Till like soup spread out the iron,
And like dough the steel was yielding,
And the silver shone like water,
And the gold swelled up like billows.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
He the great primeval craftsman, 80
Stooped to look into the furnace,
At the edges of the bellows,
And he saw a sword was forming,
With a hilt of gold constructed.

From the fire he took the weapon,
Took the work so finely fashioned,
From the furnace to the anvil,
To the hammer and the mallet,
Forged the sword as he would wish it,
And a blade the best of any, 90
And with finest gold inlaid it,
And with silver he adorned it.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Entered then to view the weapon,
And he found a keen-edged sword-blade.
Straightway in his hand he raised it,
And he turned it and surveyed it,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"Does this sword befit a hero,
Is the sword to bearer suited?" 100
And the sword the hero suited.

Well did it befit the bearer.
On its point the moon was shining,
On its side the sun was shining,
On the haft the stars were gleaming,
At the tip a horse was neighing,
On the knob a cat was mewing,
On the sheath a dog was barking.

After this the sword he brandished,
And he cleft an iron mountain, 110
And he spoke the words which follow:
"Thus, with such a blade as this is,
Can I cleave the mountains open,
Cleave the rocky hills asunder."

After this did Ilmarinen
Speak aloud the words which follow:
"How shall I myself, unhappy,
How shall I, the weak, defend me,
And shall armour me, and belt me,
'Gainst the risks of land and water? 120
Shall I clothe myself in armour,
In a coat of mail the strongest,
Gird a belt of steel around me?
Stronger is a man in armour,
In a coat of mail is better,
With a belt of steel more mighty."

Then arrived the time for starting,
And preparing for departure;
First the aged Väinämöinen,
Secondly smith Ilmarinen, 130
And they went to seek the courser,
And to find the yellow-maned one,
And the one-year old to bridle,
And to see the foal was rough-shod.
Then they went to seek the courser,
Went to seek him in the forest,
And they gazed around them keenly,
And they sought around the blue wood,
Found the horse among the bushes,
Found the yellow-maned in firwood. 140

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Secondly smith Ilmarinen,
On his head the bit adjusted,
And the one-year old they bridled,
And they drove upon their journey.
On the shore drove both the heroes,
On the shore they heard lamenting,
From the haven heard complaining.

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Spoke aloud the words which follow: 150
"Perhaps it is a girl complaining,
Or perchance a dove lamenting.
Shall we go to look about us,
Shall we nearer go to listen?"

Therefore to the spot they sauntered,
Nearer went to gaze around them,
But no maiden there was weeping,
And no dove was there lamenting,
But they found a vessel weeping,
And a boat was there lamenting. 160

Said the aged Väinämöinen
As he went towards the vessel,
"Wherefore weep, O wooden vessel,
Boat with rowlocks, why lamentest?
Dost thou weep that thou art clumsy,
And art dreaming at thy moorings?"

Then the wooden boat made answer,
Thus replied the boat with rowlocks:
"Know, a vessel longs for water,
And its tarry sides desire it, 170
As a maiden may be longing
For the fine home of a husband.
Therefore weeps the boat unhappy,
And the hapless boat lamenteth,
And I weep to speed through water,
And to float upon the billows.

"It was said when I was fashioned,
When my boards were sung together,
That I should become a warship,
And should be employed for warboat, 180
And should bear the plunder homeward,
In my hold should carry treasure,
But I have not been in battle,
Neither have been stored with plunder.

"Other boats, and even bad ones,
Always wander forth to battle,
And are led to battle-struggle
Three times in the course of summer,
And return with money loaded,
In their hold they carry treasure, 190
But for me, though well constructed,
Of a hundred boards constructed,
Here upon my rests I'm rotting,
Lying idly at my moorings,
And the worst worms of the country
Underneath my ribs are lurking,
While the birds, of all most horrid,
In my masts their nests are building,
All the toads from out the forest
Over all my deck are leaping. 200
Twice it had been better for me,
Two or three times were it better
Had I been a mountain pine-tree,
Or upon the heath a fir-tree,
With a squirrel in my branches,
Underneath my boughs a puppy."

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Do not weep, O wooden vessel,
Fret thyself, O boat with rowlocks! 210
Soon shalt thou go forth to battle,
There to mix in furious conflict.
Boat, who wast by builder fashioned,
'Twas this gift the builder gave thee,
That thy prow should reach the water,
And thy sides the billows traverse,
Even though no hand should touch thee,
Neither arm be thrust against thee,
Though no shoulder should direct thee,
And although no arm should guide thee." 220

Then replied the wooden vessel,
Answered thus the boat with rowlocks:
"None of all my race so mighty,
Neither will the boats, my brothers,
Move unpushed into the water,
Nor unrowed upon the billows,
If no hand is laid upon us,
And no arm should urge us forward."

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"If I push you in the water, 230
Will you make, unrowed, your journey,
Unassisted by the oars,
By the rudder undirected,
When the sails no breeze is filling?"

Answer made the wooden vessel,
Thus replied the boat with rowlocks:
"None of all my race so noble,
Nor the host of other vessels,
Speed along unrowed by fingers,
Unassisted by the oars, 240
By the rudder undirected,
When the sails no breeze is filling."

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Can you speed if some one rows you,
If assisted by the oars,
By the rudder if directed,
When the sails the breeze is filling?"

Answered then the wooden vessel,
Thus replied the boat with rowlocks: 250
"Yes, my race would hasten onward,
All the other boats my brothers,
Speed along if rowed by fingers,
If assisted by the oars,
By the rudder if directed,
When the sails the breeze is filling."

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Left his horse upon the sandhills,
On a tree he fixed the halter,
Tied the reins upon the branches, 260
Pushed the boat into the water,
Sang the vessel in the billows,
And he asked the wooden vessel,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"O thou boat, of shape so curving,
O thou wooden boat with rowlocks,
Art thou just as fit to bear us,
As thyself art fair to gaze on?"

Answered thus the wooden vessel,
Thus replied the boat with rowlocks: 270
"I am fitted well to bear you,
And my floor is very spacious,
And a hundred men might row me,
And a thousand others stand there."

So the aged Väinämöinen
Softly then began to carol,
Sang on one side of the vessel
Handsome youths, with hair brushed smoothly,
Hair smoothed down and hands all hardened,
And their feet were finely booted; 280
Sang on other side of vessel
Girls with tin upon their head-dress,
Head-dress tin, and belts of copper,
Golden rings upon their fingers;
And again sang Väinämöinen,
Till the seats were full of people,
Some were very aged people,
Men whose lives were nearly over,
But for these the space was scanty,
For the young folks came before them. 290