Chapter VII: Part 7

Then the younger people asked him,
And the old folks asked him likewise:
"Wherefore was the wood so gracious,
Gracious wood, and forest lavish,
And the greenwood's lord so joyous,
So propitious friendly Tapio,
That he thus his pet has given,
And resigned the honey-eater?
Did you with the spear attack him,
Was he overcome with arrows?" 470

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Very gracious was the forest,
Gracious wood, and forest lavish,
And the greenwood's lord was joyous,
And propitious friendly Tapio.

"Mielikki, the forest's Mistress,
Tellervo, the maid of Tapio,
Fair-haired damsel of the forest,
Little damsel of the forest, 480
Went along the path to guide me,
And to raise the landmarks for me,
By the roadside posts erected,
And directed all my journey,
And the trees she blazed before me,
Marks she set upon the mountains,
To the door of noble Otso,
To the borders of his dwelling.

"When I reached the place I sought for,
And arrived upon its borders, 490
With the spear I smote not Otso,
And I shot no arrows at him.
He himself lurched from the archway,
Tumbled from the pine-tree's summit,
And the branches broke his breastbone,
Others ripped his belly open."

Then he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him:
"O my Otso, O my dearest,
O my birdling, O my darling, 500
Now resign to us thy headland,
Lay aside thine eye-teeth likewise,
Cast away the few teeth left thee,
And thy wide jaws give us also,
Yet thou needest not be angry,
That I come to thee in thiswise,
And thy bones and skull have broken,
And have dashed thy teeth together.

"Now I take the nose from Otso,
That my own nose may be lengthened, 510
But I take it not completely,
And I do not take it only.

"Now I take the ears of Otso,
That my own ears I may lengthen,
But I take them not completely,
And I do not take them only.

"Now I take the eyes of Otso,
That my own eyes I may lengthen,
But I take them not completely,
And I do not take them only. 520

"Now will I take Otso's forehead,
That my forehead I may lengthen,
But I take it not completely,
And I do not take it only.

"Now I take the mouth of Otso,
That my own mouth may be lengthened,
But I take it not completely,
And I do not take it only.

"Now I take the tongue of Otso,
That my own tongue may be lengthened, 530
But I take it not completely,
And I do not take it only.

"He shall be a man respected,
And as hero shall be reckoned,
Who the bear's teeth now can number,
And the rows of teeth can loosen
From the jaws of steely hardness,
With his grasp as strong as iron."

As no other man came forward,
And no hero would attempt it, 540
He himself the bear's teeth numbered,
And the rows of teeth he reckoned,
Kneeling down beneath the jawbones,
With his grasp as strong as iron.

From the bear the teeth then taking,
Uttered he the words which follow:
"Otso, apple of the forest,
Fair and bulky forest-dweller,
Thou must go upon thy journey,
Leap along upon the journey, 550
Forth from out this narrow dwelling,
From this low and narrow cottage,
To a lofty house that waits thee,
To a wide and pleasant dwelling.

"Golden one, go forth to wander,
Dearest treasure, march thou onward,
On the swine's path march thou onward,
Traversing the road of piglings,
To the firwood so luxuriant,
To the needle-covered pine-trees, 560
To the hills all clothed with forest,
To the lofty-rising mountains.
Here for thee to dwell is pleasant,
Charming is it to abide there,
Where the cattle-bells are ringing,
And the little bells are tinking."

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
After this his dwelling entered,
And the younger people asked him,
All the handsome people asked him, 570
"Where have you bestowed your booty,
Whither did you make your journey?
Have you left him in the icefield,
In the snow-slush have you sunk him,
Pushed him down in the morasses,
Buried him upon the heathland?"

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words which follow:
"In the ice I did not leave him,
Sunk him not among the snow-slush, 580
For the dogs from thence would drag him,
Likewise would the birds befoul him.
In the swamp I have not sunk him,
Nor upon the heath have buried,
For the worms would there destroy him
And the black ants would devour him.

"Thither have I brought my booty,
There bestowed my little captive,
On a golden mountain's summit,
On a copper mountain's summit. 590
In a splendid tree I laid him,
Pine-tree with a hundred needles,
In the very largest branches,
In the broad and leafy summit,
As a joy to men for ever,
And a pleasure to the travellers.

"Then I turned his gums to eastward,
And his eyes I turned to north-west,
Not too high upon the summit,
Lest if they were in the summit, 600
Then the wind might perhaps destroy them,
And the spring wind treat them badly.
Nor too near the ground I placed them,
Lest if I too low had laid them,
Then the pigs might perhaps disturb them,
And the snouted ones o'erturn them."

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Once again prepared for singing,
For a splendid evening's pleasure,
And a charm to day departing. 610

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
And in words like these expressed him:
"Keep thy light, O holder, shining,
So that I can see while singing,
For the time has come for singing,
And my mouth to sing is longing."

Played and sang old Väinämöinen,
Charming all throughout the evening,
And when he had ceased his singing,
Then a speech he made concluding: 620

"Grant, O Jumala, in future,
Once again, O good Creator,
That once more we meet rejoicing,
And may once again assemble
Here to feast on bear so fattened,
Feasting on the shaggy creature.

"Grant, O Jumala, for ever,
Grant again, O good Creator,
That the posts be raised to guide us,
And the trees be blazed before us, 630
For the most heroic people,
For the manly race of heroes.

"Grant, O Jumala, for ever,
Grant again, O good Creator,
That may sound the horn of Tapio,
And the forest-pipe may whistle
Even in this little courtyard,
Even in this narrow homestead.

"In the day may we be playing,
And at eventide rejoicing, 640
In this firm and solid country,
In the wide expanse of Suomi,
With the young who now are growing,
With the rising generation."

RUNO XLVII.--THE ROBBERY OF THE SUN AND MOON

_Argument_

The moon and sun descend to listen to Väinämöinen's playing. The Mistress of Pohjola succeeds in capturing them, hides them in a mountain, and steals the fire from the homes of Kalevala (1-40). Ukko, the Supreme God, is surprised at the darkness in the sky, and kindles fire for a new moon and a new sun (41-82). The fire falls to the ground, and Väinämöinen and Ilmarinen go to search for it (83-126). The Virgin of the Air informs them that the fire has fallen into Lake Alue, and has been swallowed by a fish (127-312). Väinämöinen and Ilmarinen try to catch the fish with a net of bast, but without success (313-364).

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
On his kantele was playing,
Long he played, and long was singing,
And was ever full of gladness.

In the moon's house heard they playing
Came delight to the sun's window,
And the moon came from his dwelling,
Standing on a crooked birch-tree,
And the sun came from his castle,
Sitting on a fir-tree's summit, 10
To the kantele to listen,
Filled with wonder and rejoicing.

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress,
Old and gap-toothed dame of Pohja,
Set to work the sun to capture,
In her hands the moon seized likewise.
From the birch the moon she captured,
And the sun from fir-tree's summit;
Straightway to her home she brought them,
To the gloomy land of Pohja. 20

Then she hid the moon from shining,
In the mottled rocks she hid him,
Sang the sun to shine no longer,
Hidden in a steel-hard mountain;
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Never more again in freedom
Shall the moon arise for shining,
Nor the sun be free for shining,
If I come not to release them,
If I do not go to fetch them, 30
When I bring nine stallions with me,
Which a single mare has littered."

When the moon away was carried,
And the sun had been imprisoned
Deep in Pohjola's stone mountain,
In the rocks as hard as iron,
Then she stole away the brightness,
And from Väinölä the fires,
And she left the houses fireless,
And the rooms no flame illumined. 40

Therefore was the night unending,
And for long was utter darkness,
Night in Kalevala for ever,
And in Väinölä's fair dwellings,
Likewise in the heavens was darkness,
Darkness round the seat of Ukko.

Life without the fire was weary,
And without the light a burden,
Unto all mankind 'twas dismal,
And to Ukko's self 'twas dismal. 50

Ukko, then, of Gods the highest,
In the air the great Creator,
Now began to feel most strangely,
And he pondered and reflected,
What strange thing the moon had darkened,
How the sun had been obstructed,
That the moon would shine no longer,
And the sun had ceased his shining.

Then he stepped to cloudland's borders,
On the borders of the heavens, 60
Wearing now his pale blue stockings,
With the heels of varied colour,
And he went the moon to seek for,
And he went to find the sunlight,
Yet he could not find the moonlight,
Nor the sun he could discover.

In the air a light struck Ukko,
And a flame did Ukko kindle,
From his flaming sword he struck it,
Sparks he struck from off the sword-blade, 70
From his nails he struck the fire,
From his limbs he made it crackle,
High above aloft in heaven,
On the starry plains of heaven.
When the fire had thus been kindled,
Then he took the spark of fire,
In his golden purse he thrust it,
Placed it in his silver casket,
And he bade the maiden rock it,
Told the maid of air to rock it, 80
That a new moon might be fashioned,
And a new sun be constructed.

On the long cloud's edge she sat her,
On the air-marge sat the maiden,
There it was she rocked the fire,
There she rocked the glowing brightness,
In a golden cradle rocked it,
With a silver cord she rocked it.

Then the silver props were shaken,
Rocked about the golden cradle, 90
Moved the clouds and creaked the heavens,
And the props of heaven were swaying,
With the rocking of the fire,
And the rocking of the brightness.

Thus the maid the fire was rocking,
And she rocked the fire to brightness,
With her fingers moved the fire,
With her hands the fire she tended,
And the stupid maiden dropped it,
Dropped the flame the careless maiden, 100
From her hands the fire dropped downward
From the fingers of its guardian.

Then the sky was cleft asunder,
All the air was filled with windows,
Burst asunder by the fire-sparks,
As the red drop quick descended,
And a gap gleamed forth in heaven,
As it through the clouds dropped downward,
Through nine heavens the drop descended,
Through six spangled vaults of heaven. 110

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"Smith and brother, Ilmarinen,
Let us go and gaze around us,
And the cause perchance discover,
What the fire that just descended,
What the strange flame that has fallen
From the lofty height of heaven,
And to earth beneath descended.
Of the moon 'tis perhaps a fragment,
Of the sun perchance a segment." 120

Thereupon set forth the heroes,
And they wandered on, reflecting
How they might perchance discover,
How they might succeed in finding,
Where the fire had just descended,
Where the brightness had dropped downward.

And a river flowed before them,
And became a lake extensive,
And the aged Väinämöinen
Straight began a boat to fashion, 130
In the wood he worked upon it,
And beside him Ilmarinen
Made a rudder out of firwood,
Made it from a log of pinewood.

Thus the boat at length was ready,
Rowlocks, rudder all completed,
And they pushed it in the water,
And they rowed and steered it onward,
All along the river Neva,
Steering round the Cape of Neva. 140

Ilmatar, the lovely damsel,
Eldest Daughter of Creation,
Then advanced to meet the heroes,
And in words like these addressed them:
"Who among mankind may ye be?
By what names do people call you?"

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"You may look on us as sailors.
I am aged Väinämöinen,
Ilmarinen, smith, is with me, 150
But inform us of your kindred;
By what name do people call you?"

Then the matron made them answer,
"I am oldest of all women,
Of the air the oldest damsel,
And the first of all the mothers.
Five times now have I been married,
Six times as a bride attired.
Whither do you take your journey,
Whither, heroes, are you going?" 160

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"All our fires have been extinguished,
And their flames died down in darkness,
Long already were we fireless,
And in darkness were we hidden,
But at length have we determined
That the fire we ought to seek for,
Which has just dropped down from heaven,
From above the clouds has fallen." 170

Then the woman gave them answer,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Hard it is to track the fire,
And the bright flame to discover.
It has evil wrought already,
And the flame has crime committed,
For the red spark has shot downward,
And the red ball has descended
From the realms of the Creator,
Where it was by Ukko kindled, 180
Through the level plains of heaven,
Through the void aërial spaces,
Downwards through the sooty smoke-hole,
Downward through the seasoned roof-tree
Of the new-built house of Tuuri,
Of a wretched roofless dwelling.

"When the fire at length came thither,
In the new-built house of Tuuri,
Evil deeds he then accomplished,
Shocking deeds he then accomplished, 190
Burning up the maidens' bosoms,
Tearing at the breasts of maidens,
And the knees of boys destroying,
And the master's beard consuming.

"And her child the mother suckled,
In a cradle of misfortune.
Thither, too, the fire rushed onward,
And its evil work accomplished,
In the cradle burned the baby,
Burning, too, the mother's bosom, 200
And the child went off to Mana,
And the boy went straight to Tuoni.
Thus it was the infant perished,
And was cast into destruction,
In the red flame's fiery torture,
In the anguish of its glowing.

"Great the knowledge of the mother,
And to Manala she went not.
Means she knew to ban the fire,
And to drive away its glowing, 210
Through the little eye of needle,
And across the back of axe-blade,
Through the sheath of glowing sword-blade,
Past the ploughed land did she drive it."

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Heard her words, and then made answer:
"Whither has the fire retreated,
Whither did the pest take refuge,
Was it in the field of Tuuri,
In a lake, or in a forest?" 220

Then the matron made him answer,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"When from thence the fire departed,
And the flame went wandering onward,
First it burned o'er many districts,
Many districts, many marshes,
Rushed at last into the water,
In the billows of Lake Alue,
And the fire rose up all flaming,
And the sparks arose all crackling. 230

"Three times in the nights of summer,
Nine times in the nights of autumn,
Rose the lake the height of fir-trees,
Roaring rose above the lake-banks,
With the strength of furious fire,
With the strength of heat all flaming.

"On the bank were thrown the fishes,
On the rocks the perch were stranded,
And the fishes looked around them,
And the perch were all reflecting 240
How they could continue living.
Perch were weeping for their dwellings,
Fish were weeping for their homesteads,
Perches for their rocky castles.

"And the perch with back all crooked,
Tried to seize the streak of fire,
But the perch was not successful;
Seized upon it the blue powan.
Down he gulped the streak of fire,
And extinguished thus its brightness. 250

"Then retired the Lake of Alue,
And fell back from all its margins,
Sinking to its former level
In a single night of summer.

"When a little time passed over,
Fire-pain seized on the devourer,
Anguish came upon the swallower,
Grievous suffering on the eater.

"Up and down the fish swam turning,
Swam for one day and a second, 260
All along the powan's island,
Clefts in rocks where flock the salmon,
To the points of capes a thousand,
Bays among a hundred islands.
Every cape made declaration,
Every island spoke in thiswise:

"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters,
In the narrow Lake of Alue,
Can the wretched fish be swallowed,
Or the hapless one may perish 270
In the torture of the fire,
In the anguish of its glowing.'

"But a salmon-trout o'erheard it,
And the powan blue he swallowed.
When a little time passed over,
Fire-pain seized on the devourer,
Anguish came upon the swallower,
Grievous suffering on the eater.

"Up and down the fish swam turning,
Swam for one day and a second, 280
Through the clefts where flock the salmon,
And the depths where sport the fishes,
To the points of capes a thousand,
Bays among a hundred islands.
Every cape made declaration,
Every island spoke in thiswise:

"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters,
In the narrow Lake of Alue,
Can the wretched fish be swallowed,
Or the hapless one may perish 290
In the pain of burning fire,
In the anguish of its glowing.'

"But a grey pike hurried forward,
And the salmon-trout he swallowed.
When a little time passed over,
Fire-pain seized on the devourer,
Anguish came upon the swallower,
Grievous suffering on the eater.

"Up and down the fish swam turning,
Swam for one day and a second, 300
Past the cliffs where flock the seagulls,
And the rocks where sport the seamews,
To the points of capes a thousand,
Bays among a hundred islands.
Every cape made declaration,
Every island spoke in thiswise:

"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters,
In the narrow Lake of Alue,
Can the wretched fish be swallowed,
Or the hapless one may perish 310
In the pain of burning fire,
In the anguish of its glowing.'"

Then the aged Väinämöinen,
Secondly, smith Ilmarinen,
Wove a net of bast constructed,
Which from juniper they gathered,
Steeped it in the juice of willow,
And of sallow-bark they made it.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast
Sent the women to the drag-net; 320
To the net there went the women,
Sisters came to draw the drag-net;
And he steered, and glided onward
Past the capes and round the islands,
To the clefts where flock the salmon,
And along the powan's island,
Where the red-brown reeds are waving,
And among the beauteous rushes.

Eager now to make a capture,
Then he cast the net and sunk it, 330
But he cast the net out twisted,
And in wrong direction drew it,
And the fish they could not capture,
Though with eagerness they laboured.

In the water went the brothers,
To the net the men proceeded,
And they swung it and they pushed it,
And they pulled it and they dragged it,
Through the deeps, and rocky places,
Drew it o'er Kalevala's shingle; 340
But the fish they could not capture;
Not the fish so greatly needed.
Came the grey pike never near them,
Neither on the placid water,
Nor upon its ample surface;
Fish are small, and nets not many.

Now the fish were all complaining;
Said one pike unto another,
And the powan asked the ide-fish,
And one salmon asked another: 350
"Can the famous men have perished,
Perished Kaleva's great children,
They who drag the net of linen,
And of yarn have made the fish-net,
With long poles who beat the water,
With long sticks who move the waters?"

Old and famous Väinämöinen
Answered in the words which follow:
"No, the heroes have not perished,
Kaleva's great race has died not, 360
When one dies, is born another,
And the best of staves they carry,
Longer sticks to sound the water,
And their nets are twice as fearful."

RUNO XLVIII.--THE CAPTURE OF THE FIRE

_Argument_

The heroes prepare a linen net, and at length capture the fish which has swallowed the fire (1-192). The fire is found in the fish's belly, but flashes up suddenly, and burns Ilmarinen's cheeks and hands severely (193-248). The fire rushes into the forest, burns over many countries, and spreads further and further, till at length it is captured and carried to the dark dwellings of Kalevala (249-290). Ilmarinen recovers from his burns (291-372).

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
He the great primeval minstrel,
Thereupon began to ponder,
And reflected on the method
How to make a net of linen,
How to make the hundred meshes.

Then he spoke the words which follow,
And expressed himself in thiswise:
"Is there one who flax can sow me,
Who can sow the flax and card it, 10
And of this a net can make me,
Weave for me its hundred meshes,
Thus this wretched fish to slaughter,
And destroy the fish unhappy?"

So a little spot they found him,
Found a place not yet burned over,
In the wide extent of marshes,
There between two stumps they found it.

Thereupon they dug the roots out,
And 'twas there they found the flaxseed, 20
Guarded by the worm of Tuoni,
There protected by the earthworm.

There they found a heap of ashes;
Dry the ashes that they found there,
Of a wooden burned-up vessel,
Of a boat that once had burned there.
There it was they sowed the flaxseed,
In the loose ash did they sow it,
On the shore of Lake of Alue,
There they sowed it in the clayfield. 30

Presently the shoot rose upward,
And the flax grew thick and strongly,
Grew beyond their expectations,
In a single night of summer.
Then they steeped it in the night-time,
And they carded it by moonlight,
And they cleansed it and they stripped it,
And they beat it and they rubbed it,
With their tools of steel they scraped it,
And with all their strength they stripped it. 40
Then they took the flax to steeping,
And it soon began to soften,
And they hastened then to pound it,
Afterwards in haste they dried it.

Then into the house they brought it,
And they hastened then to strip it,
And they hastened next to beat it,
And they hastened then to break it.

Then with diligence they cleansed it,
In the twilight did they comb it, 50
And upon the loom arranged it,
Quicker brought it to the spindle,
In a single night of summer;
Thus between two days they worked it.

After this the sisters spun it,
And their brothers' wives were netting,
And the brothers worked the meshes,
And the fathers also aided.

Quickly did they turn the netter,
And the mesh with speed they twisted, 60
Till the net was quite completed,
And the cords were fixed upon it,
In a single night of summer,
Half another in addition.

Thus the net was quite completed,
And the cords were fixed upon it.
And its length was hundred fathoms,
And its breadth was hundreds seven;
Stones for weights were fastened to it,
Likewise proper floats provided. 70

With the net the youths were walking,
And at home the old men pondered,
Whether they would make a capture,
And secure the fish they wished for.

Then they drew the net and dragged it,
Much they toiled, and threshed the water,
Drew it lengthwise through the water,
Dragged it crosswise through the water,
Captured many little fishes,
Many luckless perch they captured, 80
Many bony perch they captured,
And a large-galled Redeye likewise,
But the fish they could not capture
That for which the net was fashioned.

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,
Let us now go forth together
Where the net is in the water."

Thereupon went both the heroes,
And they drew it through the water, 90
And upon one side they spread it
Round the islands in the water,
And the other side directed,
Round about the promontories,
And the balance-pole was guided
Just as aged Väinö pushed it.

Thus they cast the net and pushed it,
And they drew the net and dragged it,
Captured fishes in abundance,
And they captured perch in plenty, 100
Salmon-trout in great abundance,
Bream and salmon too they captured,
All the fishes of the water,
Only not the fish they sought for,
That for which the net was woven,
And the ropes were fastened to it.

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Worked to make the net yet longer,
Wider yet the sides expanded,
Perhaps five hundred fathoms broader, 110
Netted full seven hundred fathoms,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"To the depths the nets we'll carry,
And will now extend them further,
Once again will drag the water,
Thus another cast attempting."

To the depths the nets they carried,
Further did they then convey them,
And again they dragged the water,
Thus another cast attempting. 120

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Spoke aloud the words which follow:
"Vellamo, O Water-Mother,
Old one with the lavish bosom,
Do thou change the shift upon thee,
Do thou change thy dress completely,
For thou hast a shift of rushes,
On thy head a cap of lake-foam,
Fashioned by the Wind's fair daughter,
Which the billows' daughter gave thee. 130
Now assume a shift of linen,
Of the finest flax that's woven,
Which by Kuutar has been woven,
Päivätär has wrought when spinning.

"Ahto, master of the billows,
Ruler thou of caves a hundred,
Take thy pole in length five fathoms,
Take thy stake, in length full seven,
Thresh with this the open water,
And do thou stir up the lake-bed, 140
Stir thou all the heaps of refuse,
Drive thou on the shoals of fishes,
Where the net is spread to catch them,
And its hundred floats are swimming,
From the bays by fish frequented,
From the caves where hide the salmon,
From the wide lake's seething whirlpool,
And from the profound abysses,
Where the sun was never shining,
Undisturbed the sand for ever." 150

From the lake a dwarf ascended,
From the waves arose a hero,
Stood upon the lake's broad surface,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"Is there need to thresh the water,
With a long pole to disturb it?"

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words that follow:
"There is need to thresh the water,
With a long pole to disturb it." 160
Then the dwarf, the little hero,
Lifted from the bank a pine-tree,
Took a tall tree from the pinewood,
And prepared to thresh the water,
And he asked, and spoke as follows:
"Shall I thresh with strength sufficient,
Putting forth my utmost efforts,
Or as hard as may be needful?"

Old and prudent Väinämöinen
Answered in the words which follow: 170
"If you thresh as hard as needful,
You will have to do much threshing."

Then the man, the little hero,
Set to work to thresh the water,
And he threshed as much as needful,
And he drove the shoals of fishes,
And into the net he drove them,
In the net with floats a hundred.

Rested now the smith his oars;
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, 180
Now the net himself drew upward,
At the rope as he was pulling.

Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"We have caught a shoal of fishes,
In the net that I am lifting,
With a hundred floats provided."

Then the net was soon drawn upward,
And they drew it up and shook it
In the boat of Väinämöinen,
Finding mid the shoal of fishes, 190
That for which the net was fashioned,
And the hundred floats provided.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
To the land then urged the vessel,
To the blue bridge-side he brought it,
To the red bridge-end he brought it,
There the shoal of fishes sorted,
Turned the heap of bony fishes,
And the grey pike found among them,
Which he long had sought to capture. 200

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Thus unto himself reflected:
"Is it wise with hands to seize it,
Save with gauntlets made of iron,
Save with gloves of stone constructed,
Save with mittens made of copper?"

And the Sun's son heard him speaking,
And replied in words that follow:
"I myself would rip the pike up,
Venture in my hand to take him, 210
If I had my large knife only,
Which my noble father gave me."

Then from heaven the knife descended,
From the clouds the knife fell downward,
Golden-hafted, silver-bladed,
To the Sun's son's belt dropped downward.

Thereupon the Sun's son seized it,
Firmly in his hand he grasped it,
And with this the pike ripped open,
Cleft the body of the Broad-snout, 220
And within the grey pike's belly
There the grey trout he discovered,
And within the grey trout's belly
There he found the smooth-skinned powan.

Then he split the smooth-skinned powan,
And a blue clew he discovered,
In the powan's entrails hidden,
In the third fold of the entrails.

Then the blue clew he unwinded;
From the inside of the blue clew 230
Fell a red clew from within it,
And when he unwound the red clew,
In the middle of the red clew,
There he found a spark of fire
Which had once from heaven descended,
Through the clouds had fallen downward,
From above eight heavens descending,
From the ninth aërial region.

Väinämöinen then considered
How the spark might best be carried, 240
To the cold and fireless dwellings,
To the rooms so dark and gloomy.
But the fire flashed up most fiercely,
From the Sun's son's hands who held it,
Singed the beard of Väinämöinen,
Burned the smith much more severely,
For upon his cheeks it burned him,
And upon his hands it scorched him.

And it hastened quickly onward
O'er the waves of Lake of Alue, 250
Through the junipers fled onward,
Burnt its way through all the thicket,
Then rushed upward through the fir-trees,
Burning up the stately fir-trees,
Rushing ever further onward,
Burned up half the land of Pohja,
And the furthest bounds of Savo,
Over both halves of Carelia.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Followed hard upon its traces, 260
And he hastened through the forest,
Close behind the furious fire,
And at length he overtook it,
'Neath the roots of two great tree-stumps,
In the stumps of alders hidden,
In the rotten stumps he found it.

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Spoke aloud the words which follow:
"Fire, whom Jumala created,
Creature of the bright Creator, 270
Idly to the depths thou goest,
Aimlessly to distant regions.
It were better far to hide thee
In the hearth of stone constructed,
There thy sparks to bind together,
And within the coals enclose them,
That by day thou may'st be flickering
In the kitchen birchen faggots,
And at night thou may'st be hidden
Close within the golden fire-box." 280

Then he thrust the spark of fire
In a little piece of tinder,
In the fungus hard of birch-tree,
And among the copper kettles.
Fire he carried to the kettles,
Took it in the bark of birch-tree,
To the end of misty headland,
And the shady island's summit.
Now was fire within the dwellings,
In the rooms again 'twas shining. 290

But the smith named Ilmarinen
Quickly hastened to the lakeshore,
Where the rocks the water washes,
And upon the rocks he sat him,
In the pain of burning fire,
In the anguish of its glowing.

There it was he quenched the fire,
There it was he dimmed its lustre,
And he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him: 300
"Fire whom Jumala created
And O thou, the Sun's son, Panu!
Who has made ye thus so angry,
As to scorch my cheeks in thiswise,
And to burn my hips so badly,
And my sides so much to injure?

"How shall I the fire extinguish,
How shall I reduce its glowing,
Make the fire for evil powerless,
And its lustre render harmless, 310
That no longer it may pain me,
And may cause me pain no longer?

"Come, thou girl, from land of Turja,
Come, thou maiden, forth from Lapland,
Frosty-stockinged, icy-booted,
And thy skirts all frosted over,
In thy hand the icy kettle,
And the ice-spoon in the kettle.
Sprinkle me with freezing water,
Sprinkle me with icy water, 320
On the places scorched so badly,
And the burns the fire has caused me.

"But if this is not sufficient,
Come, thou youth, come forth from Pohja,
Come, thou child, from midst of Lapland,
From Pimentola, O tall one,
Tall as is a forest fir-tree,
Tall as pine-tree in the marshes,
On thy hands the gloves of hoarfrost,
On thy feet the boots of hoarfrost, 330
On thy head the cap of hoarfrost,
Round thy waist the belt of hoarfrost.

"Bring from Pohjola the hoarfrost,
Ice from out the frozen village.
Hoarfrost's plentiful in Pohja,
Ice enough in frozen village.
Lakes of ice, and frozen rivers,
All the air with ice is laden.
O'er the hoarfrost hares are skipping,
On the ice the bears are sporting, 340
In the middle of the snow-heaps,
On the edge of the snow mountains,
On the rims the swans are walking,
On the ice the ducks are waddling,
In the midst of snow-filled rivers,
Cornices of icy cataracts.

"On thy sledge bring thou the hoarfrost,
On thy sledge the ice convey thou,
From the slopes of rugged mountains,
From the lofty mountains' borders. 350
Make them hoary with the hoarfrost,
With the ice, O make them icy,
All the hurts by fire occasioned,
All the burns the fire has caused me.

"But if this is not sufficient,
Ukko, thou of Gods the highest,
Ukko, thou the clouds who leadest,
Thou the scattered clouds who herdest,
Send a cloud from out the eastward,
And a thick cloud from the westward, 360
Link the edges close together,
Close thou up the gaps between them,
Send thou ice, and send thou hoarfrost,
Send thou, too, the best of ointment,
For the places scorched so badly,
And the hurts by fire occasioned."

Thus it was smith Ilmarinen
Found a means to quench the fire,
And to dim the brilliant fire.
Thus the smith was healed completely, 370
And regained his former vigour,
Healed from wounds the fire occasioned.

RUNO XLIX.--FALSE AND TRUE MOONS AND SUNS

_Argument_

Ilmarinen forges a new moon and sun but cannot make them shine (1-74). Väinämöinen discovers by divination that the moon and sun are hidden in the mountain of Pohjola, goes to Pohjola and conquers the whole nation (75-230). He sees the moon and sun in the mountain, but cannot enter (231-278). He returns home to procure tools with which to break open the mountain. While Ilmarinen is forging them, the Mistress of Pohjola, fearing that it may go ill with her, releases the moon and sun (279-362). When Väinämöinen sees the moon and sun reappear in the sky, he salutes them, hoping that they will always go brightly on their course, and bring happiness to the country (363-422).

Still the sun was never shining,
Neither gleamed the golden moonlight,
Not in Väinölä's dark dwellings,
Not on Kalevala's broad heathlands.
Frost upon the crops descended,
And the cattle suffered greatly,
And the birds of air felt strangely,
All mankind felt ever mournful,
For the sunlight shone no longer,
Neither did there shine the moonlight. 10

Though the pike knew well the pike-deeps,
And the bird-paths knew the eagle,
And the wind the vessel's journey,
Yet mankind were all unknowing
If the time was really morning,
Or if perhaps it still was night-time,
Out upon the cloudy headland,
And upon the shady island.
And the young men then took counsel,
And the older men considered 20
How to live without the moonlight,
And exist without the sunlight,
In that miserable country,
In the wretched land of Pohja.

And the girls took likewise counsel,
And their cousins too considered;
And they hastened to the smithy,
And they spoke the words which follow:
"Smith, from 'neath the wall arise thou,
From the hearthstone rise, O craftsman, 30
That a new moon thou may'st forge us,
And a new sun thou may'st make us.
Ill it is without the moonlight,
Strange it is without the sunlight."

From the hearth arose the craftsman,
From beneath the wall the craftsman,
That a new moon he might forge them,
And a new sun he might make them,
And a moon of gold constructed,
And a sun he made of silver. 40

Came the aged Väinämöinen,
And beside the door he sat him,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"O thou smith, my dearest brother,
What art thou in smithy forging,
Hammering thus without cessation?"

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Answered in the words that follow:
"Out of gold a moon I'm shaping,
And a sun of silver making, 50
In the sky I then will place them,
Over six of starry heavens."

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Answered in the words that follow:
"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,
What you make is wholly useless.
Gold will never shine like moonlight,
Silver will not shine like sunlight."

Thus the smith a moon constructed,
And a sun completely finished, 60
Eagerly he raised them upward,
Raised them to the best position,
Raised the moon to fir-tree's summit,
Set the sun upon a pine-tree.
From his head the sweat was streaming,
From his forehead sweat was falling,
With the greatness of his efforts,
And the weight that he was lifting.

Thus the moon was now uplifted,
In his place the sun was stationed, 70
Moon amid the crown of fir-tree,
Sun upon a pine-tree's summit,
But the moon shed forth no lustre,
And the sun was likewise rayless.

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Spoke aloud the words which follow:
"Time it is the lots to shuffle,
And the signs with care to question
Where the sun is hidden from us,
And the moon has vanished from us." 80

Then the aged Väinämöinen,
He the great primeval sorcerer,
Hastened alder-sticks to cut him,
And arranged the sticks in order,
And began the lots to shuffle,
With his fingers to arrange them,
And he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him:
"Leave I ask of the Creator,
Seek an answer that misleads not. 90
Tell me, signs of the Creator,
Lots of Jumala, instruct me,
Where the sun is hidden from us,
And the moon has vanished from us,
Since no more as time elapses,
In the sky do we behold them?

"Speak, O lot, and tell me truly
With man's reason speak unto me,
Speak thou faithful words unto us,
Make thou faithful compacts with us! 100
If the lot should lie unto me,
Then its worth I hold as nothing,
And upon the fire will cast it,
And will burn the signs upon it."

And the lot spoke words most faithful,
And the signs made answer truly,
For they said the sun was hidden,
And the moon was also sunken,
Deep in Pohjola's stone mountain,
And within the hill of copper. 110

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Uttered then the words which follow:
"I to Pohjola must journey,
On the path of Pohja's children,
And will bring the moon to shining,
And the golden sun to shining."

Forth he journeyed, and he hastened
Unto Pohjola's dark regions,
And he walked one day, a second,
And at length upon the third day 120
Came in view the gate of Pohja,
And appeared the rocky mountains.

Then with all his strength he shouted,
As he came to Pohja's river,
"Bring me here a boat directly
Which shall take me o'er the river."

As his shouting was not heeded,
And no boat for him provided,
Wood into a heap he gathered,
And the dead twigs of a fir-tree. 130
On the shore he made a fire,
And thick clouds of smoke rose upward;
To the sky the flame rose upward,
In the air the smoke ascended.

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress
Came herself unto the window,
And, at the sound's opening gazing,
Then she spoke the words which follow:
"What's the flame that's burning yonder,
Where the Sound of Saari opens? 140
For a camp too small I think it,
But 'tis larger than a fisher's."

Then the son of Pohja's country
Hurried out into the open,
And he looked about and listened,
Seeking thus for information.
"On the river's other margin,
Is a stately hero marching."

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Once again commenced his shouting. 150
"Bring a boat, O son of Pohja,
Bring a boat for Väinämöinen."

Answer made the son of Pohja,
And in words like these responded:
"Here the boats are never ready;
You to row must use your fingers,
And must use your hands for rudder,
Crossing Pohjola's deep river."

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Pondered deeply and reflected, 160
"Not as man should he be reckoned
Who retreats upon his pathway."

Like a pike in lake then plunging,
Powan-like in sluggish river,
Through the sound he swam right quickly,
Speedily the strait he traversed,
And he moved one foot, a second,
And he reached the shore of Pohja.

Then spoke out the sons of Pohja,
And the evil army shouted: 170
"Go into the yard of Pohja,"
And on this the yard he entered.

Then exclaimed the sons of Pohja,
And the evil army shouted:
"Enter now the house of Pohja."
And on this the house he entered,
On the floor his foot he planted,
Grasped he the door-handle firmly,
Forced his way into the dwelling,
And beneath the roof he entered, 180
There the men the mead were drinking,
And the honey-drink imbibing.
All the men with swords were girded,
And the heroes aimed their weapons
At the head of Väinämöinen,
Thus to slay Suvantolainen.
Then they questioned the intruder
In the very words that follow:
"What's your news, you wretched fellow,
What's your need, O swimming hero?" 190

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Of the moon are curious tidings,
Of the sun are wondrous tidings.
Where is now the sun imprisoned,
Whither has the moon been taken?"

Answered then the sons of Pohja,
And the evil army answered:
"Thus it is the sun is hidden,
Sun is hidden, moon imprisoned, 200
In the stones of many colours,
In the rocks as hard as iron,
And from this, escape they cannot,
And release shall never reach them."

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Answered in the words that follow:
"If the sun from rock ascends not,
Nor the moon from rocky mountain,
Let us join in closest conflict,
Let us grasp our trusty sword-blades." 210

Sword they drew, and tried their sword-blades,
Drew from out the sheaths their weapons;
At the point the moon was shining,
On the hilt the sun was shining,
On the back a horse was standing,
At the knob a cat was mewing.

After this the swords they measured,
And they thus compared their weapons,
And the sword of aged Väinö
Was a little trifle longer, 220
Longer, as a grain of barley,
As the width of straw-stalk longer.

Out into the yard they hastened,
On the grass to meet in conflict,
And the aged Väinämöinen
Struck a blow with lightning swiftness,
Struck a blow, and struck a second,
And he sheared, like roots of turnips,
Off he shore, like heads of flax-plant,
Heads of all the sons of Pohja. 230

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Sought for where the moon was hidden,
Likewise would release the sunlight
From the rocks of varied colour,
From the depths of steely mountain,
From the rocks as hard as iron.

Then he walked a little distance,
But a very little distance,
When he saw a copse all verdant,
In the copse a lovely birch-tree, 240
And a large stone block beneath it,
And a rock beneath the stone block,
And there were nine doors before it,
In the doors were bolts a hundred.

In the stone a crack perceiving,
In the rock some lines engraven,
Then he drew his sword from scabbard,
On the coloured stone he scraped it,
With the sharp point of his sword-blade,
With his gleaming blade he scraped it, 250
Till the stone in two divided,
And in three he quickly split it.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Looked into the stone all pictured;
Many serpents ale were drinking,
In the wort the snakes were writhing,
In the coloured stone were hiding,
In the cracks of liver-colour.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Uttered then the words that follow: 260
"Thus it is the hapless Mistress
Has so little ale acquired,
For the snakes the ale are drinking,
In the wort the snakes are writhing."

Off he cut the heads of serpents,
Broke the necks of all the serpents,
And he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him:
"Never while the world existeth,
From this very day henceforward, 270
Let our ale by snakes be drunken,
And our malt-drink by the serpents."

Then the aged Väinämöinen,
He the great primeval sorcerer,
Sought with hands the doors to open,
And the bolts by spells to loosen,
But to hands the doors would yield not,
By his spells the bolts were moved not.

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Spoke his thoughts in words that follow: 280
"Man unarmed is weak as woman;
Weak as frog, without a hatchet."
And at once he wended homeward,
Head bowed down, in great vexation,
For the moon was not recovered,
Neither had the sun been captured.

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
"O thou aged Väinämöinen,
Wherefore didst forget to take me,
As your very trusty comrade? 290
I had brought the locks to creaking,
And the bars asunder broken,
And released the moon for shining,
And had raised the sun for shining."

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words that follow:
"Unto spells the bolts will yield not,
And the locks my magic breaks not;
Strength of hands will never move them,
And no strength of arm will force them." 300

To the smith's forge then he wandered,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,
Forge me now a mighty trident,
And a dozen hatchets forge me,
And a bunch of keys enormous,
From the stone the moon to rescue,
From the rock the sun deliver."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
He the great primeval craftsman, 310
Forged the hero what he needed,
And a dozen hatchets forged him,
Forged a bunch of keys enormous,
And of spears a mighty bundle,
Not too large and not too little,
But of middle size he forged them.

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress,
Old and gap-toothed dame of Pohja,
Then with wings herself provided,
And extended them for flying, 320
Near the house at first was flying,
Then her flight extended further,
Straight across the lake of Pohja
Unto Ilmarinen's smithy.

Then the smith his window opened,
Looking if the wind was blowing;
'Twas no wind that there was blowing,
But a hawk, and grey in colour.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Spoke aloud the words that follow: 330
"Bird of prey, what brings thee hither,
Sitting underneath my window?"

Hereupon the bird spoke language,
And the hawk at once made answer:
"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,
Thou the most industrious craftsman,
Truly art thou very skilful,
And a most accomplished craftsman."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Answered in the words that follow: 340
"But indeed 'tis not a wonder
If I am a skilful craftsman,
For 'twas I who forged the heavens,
And the arch of air who welded."

Hereupon the bird spoke language,
And the hawk at once responded:
"What is this, O smith, thou makest,
What, O blacksmith, art thou forging?"

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Answered in the words that follow: 350
"'Tis a neck-ring I am forging,
For the aged crone of Pohja,
That she may be firmly fettered
To the side of a great mountain."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress,
Old and gap-toothed dame of Pohja,
Felt on this her doom was coming,
On her head the days of evil,
And at once to flight betook her,
Swift to Pohjola escaping. 360

From the stone the moon released she,
From the rock the sun released she,
Then again her form she altered,
And to dove herself converted,
And her flight again directed
Unto Ilmarinen's smithy,
To the door in bird-form flying,
Lit as dove upon the threshold.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Asked her in the words which follow: 370
"Why, O bird, hast thou flown hither?
Dove, why sit'st thou on the threshold?"

From the door the wild bird answered,
And the dove spoke from the threshold:
"Here I sit upon the threshold,
That the news I now may bring thee.
From the stone the moon has risen,
From the rock the sun is loosened."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Hastened forth to gaze around him, 380
And he stood at door of smithy,
Gazing anxiously to heaven,
And he saw the moon was gleaming,
And he saw the sun was shining.

Then he went to Väinämöinen,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"O thou aged Väinämöinen,
Thou the great primeval minstrel,
Come to gaze upon the moonlight,
Come to gaze upon the sunlight. 390
Now they stand in midst of heaven,
In their old accustomed places."

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Hurried out into the open,
And at once his head uplifted,
And he gazed aloft to heaven.
Moon was risen, sun was loosened,
In the sky the sun was beaming.

Then the aged Väinämöinen
Made a speech without delaying, 400
And he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him:
"Hail, O Moon, who beamest yonder,
Thus thy fair cheeks well displaying,
Golden sun who risest yonder,
Sun who once again arisest!

"Golden Moon from stone delivered,
Fairest Sun from rock arisen,
Like the golden cuckoo rise you,
Like the silver dove arise you, 410
Lead the life ye led aforetime,
And resume your former journeys.

"Rise for ever in the morning,
From this present day hereafter.
Bring us always happy greetings,
That our wealth increases ever,
Game for ever in our fingers,
Fortune at the points of fish-hooks.

"Go ye on your path with blessings,
Go ye on your charming journey, 420
Let your crescent now be beauteous,
Rest ye joyful in the evening."

RUNO L.--MARJATTA

_Argument_

The virgin Marjatta swallows a cranberry and brings forth a boy (1-346). The child disappears and is found after a long search in a swamp (347-430). He is taken to an old man to be baptized, but the latter will not baptize the fatherless child until after due consideration (431-440). Väinämöinen comes to inquire into the matter, and advises that the ill-omened boy should be put to death, but the child reproaches him for his unjust sentence (441-474). The old man baptizes the boy as King of Carelia, at which Väinämöinen is grievously offended and leaves the country, but first declares that he will again make a new Sampo and kantele, and light for the people. He sails away in a copper boat to a land between earth and heaven, but he leaves behind his kantele and his great songs as a parting gift to his people (475-512). Concluding verses (513-620).

Marjatta the petted damsel
In her home long time was growing,
In the home of her great father,
In her tender mother's dwelling,
And five chains wore out completely,
And six rings she wore out likewise;
For her father's keys she used them,
Which around her waist were hanging.

And she wore out half the threshold,
With her skirts as she was passing, 10
And she half destroyed the rafters
Where she hung her silken ribands,
And she half destroyed the door-posts
As her fine sleeves rubbed against them,
And the planking of the flooring
Wore away beneath her slippers.

Marjatta the petted damsel
Was a very little damsel,
And was always pure and holy,
And was ever very modest, 20
And she fed on fish the finest,
And the soft bark of the fir-tree,
But the eggs of hens ate never,
Over which the cocks were crowing,
And the flesh of ewe she ate not,
Had the ewe with ram been running.

If her mother sent her milking,
Yet she did not go to milking,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Never such a maid as I am 30
Udders of the cows should handle,
Which with bulls have been disporting,
If no milk from calf is flowing,
Or from calf it is not running."

If her father sent her sledging,
In a stallion's sledge she went not,
If a mare her brother brought her,
Then these words the maiden uttered:
"Never will I sit in mares' sledge,
Which with stallion has been running, 40
If no foals the sledge are drawing,
Which have numbered six months only."