Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland – Volume 02

Elias Lönnrot

RUNE XXV

WAINAMOINEN'S WEDDING-SONGS

At the home of Ilmarinen Long had they been watching, waiting, For the coming of the blacksmith, With his bride from Sariola. Weary were the eyes of watchers, Waiting from the father's portals, Looking from the mother's windows; Weary were the young knees standing At the gates of the magician; Weary grew the feet of children, Tramping to the walls and watching; Worn and torn, the shoes of heroes, Running on the shore to meet him. Now at last upon a morning Of a lovely day in winter, Heard they from the woods the rumble Of a snow-sledge swiftly bounding. Lakko, hostess of Wainola, She the lovely Kalew-daughter, Spake these words in great excitement: "'Tis the sledge of the magician, Comes at last the metal-worker From the dismal Sariola, By his side the Bride of Beauty! Welcome, welcome, to this hamlet, Welcome to thy mother's hearth-stone, To the dwelling of thy father, By thine ancestors erected!" Straightway came great Ilmarinen To his cottage drove the blacksmith, To the fireside of his father, To his mother's ancient dwelling. Hazel-birds were sweetly singing On the newly-bended collar; Sweetly called the sacred cuckoos From the summit of the break-board; Merry, jumped the graceful squirrel On the oaken shafts and cross-bar. Lakko, Kalew's fairest hostess, Beauteous daughter of Wainola, Spake these words of hearty welcome: "For the new moon hopes the village, For the sun, the happy maidens, For the boat, the swelling water; I have not the moon expected, For the sun have not been waiting, I have waited for my hero, Waited for the Bride of Beauty; Watched at morning, watched at evening, Did not know but some misfortune, Some sad fate had overtaken Bride and bridegroom on their journey; Thought the maiden growing weary, Weary of my son's attentions, Since he faithfully had promised To return to Kalevala, Ere his foot-prints had departed From the snow-fields of his father. Every morn I looked and listened, Constantly I thought and wondered When his sledge would rumble homeward, When it would return triumphant To his home, renowned and ancient. Had a blind and beggared straw-horse Hobbled to these shores awaiting, With a sledge of but two pieces, Well the steed would have been lauded, Had it brought my son beloved, Had it brought the Bride of Beauty. Thus I waited long, impatient, Looking out from morn till even, Watching with my head extended, With my tresses streaming southward, With my eyelids widely opened, Waiting for my son's returning To this modest home of heroes, To this narrow place of resting. Finally am I rewarded, For the sledge has come triumphant, Bringing home my son and hero, By his side the Rainbow maiden, Red her cheeks, her visage winsome, Pride and joy of Sariola. "Wizard-bridegroom of Wainola, Take thy-courser to the stable, Lead him to the well-filled manger, To the best of grain and clover; Give to us thy friendly greetings, Greetings send to all thy people. When thy greetings thou hast ended, Then relate what has befallen To our hero in his absence. Hast thou gone without adventure To the dark fields of Pohyola, Searching for the Maid of Beauty? Didst thou scale the hostile ramparts, Didst thou take the virgin's mansion, Passing o'er her mother's threshold, Visiting the halls of Louhi? "But I know without the asking, See the answer to my question: Comest from the North a victor, On thy journey well contented; Thou hast brought the Northland daughter, Thou hast razed the hostile portals, Thou hast stormed the forts of Louhi, Stormed the mighty walls opposing, On thy journey to Pohyola, To the village of the father. In thy care the bride is sitting, In thine arms, the Rainbow-maiden, At thy side, the pride of Northland, Mated to the highly-gifted. Who has told the cruel story, Who the worst of news has scattered, That thy suit was unsuccessful, That in vain thy steed had journeyed? Not in vain has been thy wooing, Not in vain thy steed has travelled To the dismal homes of Lapland; He has journeyed heavy laden, Shaken mane, and tail, and forelock, Dripping foam from lips and nostrils, Through the bringing of the maiden, With the burden of the husband. "Come, thou beauty, from the snow-sledge, Come, descend thou from the cross-bench, Do not linger for assistance, Do not tarry to be carried; If too young the one that lifts thee, If too proud the one in waiting, Rise thou, graceful, like a young bird, Hither glide along the pathway, On the tan-bark scarlet- colored, That the herds of kine have evened, That the gentle lambs have trodden, Smoothened by the tails of horses. Haste thou here with gentle footsteps, Through the pathway smooth and tidy, On the tiles of even surface, On thy second father's court-yard, To thy second mother's dwelling, To thy brother's place of resting, To thy sister's silent chambers. Place thy foot within these portals, Step across this waiting threshold, Enter thou these halls of joyance, Underneath these painted rafters, Underneath this roof of ages. During all the winter evenings, Through the summer gone forever, Sang the tiling made of ivory, Wishing thou wouldst walk upon it; Often sang the golden ceiling, Hoping thou wouldst walk beneath it, And the windows often whistled, Asking thee to sit beside them; Even on this merry morning, Even on the recent evening, Sat the aged at their windows, On the sea-shore ran the children, Near the walls the maidens waited, Ran the boys upon the highway, There to watch the young bride's coming, Coming with her hero-husband. "Hail, ye courtiers of Wainola, With the heroes of the fathers, Hail to thee, Wainola's hamlet, Hail, ye halls with heroes peopled, Hail, ye rooms with all your inmates, Hail to thee, sweet golden moonlight, Hail to thee, benignant Ukko, Hail companions of the bridegroom! Never has there been in Northland Such a wedding-train of honor, Never such a bride of beauty. "Bridegroom, thou beloved hero, Now untie the scarlet ribbons, And remove the silken muffler, Let us see the honey-maiden, See the Daughter of the Rainbow. Seven years hast thou been wooing, Hast thou brought the maid affianced, Wainamoinen's Wedding-Songs. Hast thou sought a sweeter cuckoo, Sought one fairer than the moonlight, Sought a mermaid from the ocean? But I know without the asking, See the answer to my question: Thou hast brought the sweet-voiced cuckoo, Thou hast found the swan of beauty Plucked the sweetest flower of Northland, Culled the fairest of the jewels, Gathered Pohya's sweetest berry!" Sat a babe upon the matting, And the young child spake as follows: "Brother, what is this thou bringest, Aspen-log or trunk of willow, Slender as the mountain-linden? Bridegroom, well dost thou remember, Thou hast hoped it all thy life-time, Hoped to bring the Maid of Beauty, Thou a thousand times hast said it, Better far than any other, Not one like the croaking raven, Nor the magpie from the border, Nor the scarecrow from the corn-fields, Nor the vulture from the desert. What has this one done of credit, In the summer that has ended? Where the gloves that she has knitted, Where the mittens she has woven? Thou hast brought her empty-handed, Not a gift she brings thy father; In thy chests the nice are nesting, Long-tails feeding on thy vestments, And thy bride, cannot repair them." Lakko hostess of Wainola, She the faithful Kalew-daughter, Hears the young child's speech in wonder, Speaks these words of disapproval: Silly prattler, cease thy talking, Thou Last spoken in dishonor; Let all others be astonished, Reap thy malice on thy kindred, must not harm the Bride of Beauty, Rainbow-daughter of the Northland. False indeed is this thy Prattle, All thy words are full or evil, Fallen from thy tongue of mischief From the lips of one unworthy. Excellent the hero's young bride, Best of all in Sariola, Like the strawberry in summer, Like the daisy from the meadow, Like the cuckoo from the forest, Like the bluebird from the aspen, Like the redbreast from the heather, Like the martin from the linden; Never couldst thou find in Ehstland Such a virgin as this daughter, Such a graceful beauteous maiden, With such dignity of Carriage, With such arms of pearly whiteness, With a neck so fair and lovely. Neither is she empty-handed, She has brought us furs abundant, Brought us many silken garments, Richest weavings of Pohyola. Many beauteous things the maiden, With the spindle has accomplished, Spun and woven with her fingers Dresses of the finest texture She in winter has upfolded, Bleached them in the days of spring-time, Dried them at the hour of noon-day, For our couches finest linen, For our heads the softest pillows, For our comfort woollen blankets, For our necks the silken ribbons." To the bride speaks gracious Lakko: "Goodly wife, thou Maid of Beauty, Highly wert thou praised as daughter, In thy father's distant country; Here thou shalt be praised forever By the kindred of thy husband; Thou shalt never suffer sorrow, Never give thy heart to grieving; In the swamps thou wert not nurtured, Wert not fed beside the brooklets; Thou wert born 'neath stars auspicious, Nurtured from the richest garners, Thou wert taken to the brewing Of the sweetest beer in Northland. "Beauteous bride from Sariola, Shouldst thou see me bringing hither Casks of corn, or wheat, or barley; Bringing rye in great abundance, They belong to this thy household; Good the plowing of thy husband. Good his sowing and his reaping. "Bride of Beauty from the Northland, Thou wilt learn this home to manage, Learn to labor with thy kindred; Good the home for thee to dwell in, Good enough for bride and daughter. At thy hand will rest the milk-pail, And the churn awaits thine order; It is well here for the maiden, Happy will the young bride labor, Easy are the resting-benches; Here the host is like thy father, Like thy mother is the hostess, All the sons are like thy brothers, Like thy sisters are the daughters. "Shouldst thou ever have a longing For the whiting of the ocean, For thy, father's Northland salmon, For thy brother's hazel-chickens, Ask them only of thy husband, Let thy hero-husband bring them. There is not in all of Northland, Not a creature of the forest, Not a bird beneath the ether, Not a fish within the waters, Not the largest, nor the smallests That thy husband cannot capture. It is well here for the maiden, Here the bride may live in freedom, Need not turn the heavy millstone, Need not move the iron pestle; Here the wheat is ground by water, For the rye, the swifter current, While the billows wash the vessels And the surging waters rinse them. Thou hast here a lovely village, Finest spot in all of Northland, In the lowlands sweet the verdure, in the uplands, fields of beauty, With the lake-shore near the hamlet, Near thy home the running water, Where the goslings swim and frolic, Water-birds disport in numbers." Thereupon the bride and bridegroom Were refreshed with richest viands, Given food and drink abundant, Fed on choicest bits of reindeer, On the sweetest loaves of barley, On the best of wheaten biscuits, On the richest beer of Northland. Many things were on the table, Many dainties of Wainola, In the bowls of scarlet color, In the platters deftly painted, Many cakes with honey sweetened, To each guest was butter given, Many bits of trout and whiting, Larger salmon carved in slices, With the knives of molten silver, Rimmed with gold the silver handles, Beer of barley ceaseless flowing, Honey-drink that was not purchased, In the cellar flows profusely, Beer for all, the tongues to quicken, Mead and beer the minds to freshen. Who is there to lead the singing, Lead the songs of Kalevala? Wainamoinen, old and truthful, The eternal, wise enchanter, Quick begins his incantations, Straightway sings the songs that follow. "Golden brethren, dearest kindred, Ye, my loved ones, wise and worthy Ye companions, highly-gifted, Listen to my simple sayings: Rarely stand the geese together, Sisters do not mate each other, Not together stand the brothers, Nor the children of one mother, In the countries of the Northland. "Shall we now begin the singing, Sing the songs of old tradition? Singers can but sing their wisdom, And the cuckoo call the spring-time, And the goddess of the heavens Only dyes the earth in beauty; So the goddesses of weaving Can but weave from dawn till twilight, Ever sing the youth of Lapland In their straw-shoes full of gladness, When the coarse-meat of the roebuck, Or of blue-moose they have eaten. Wherefore should I not be singing, And the children not be chanting Of the biscuits of Wainola, Of the bread of Kalew-waters? Even Sing the lads of Lapland In their straw-shoes filled with joyance, Drinking but a cup of water, Eating but the bitter tan-bark. Wherefore should I not be singing, And the children not be chanting Of the beer of Kalevala, Brewed from barley in perfection, Dressed in quaint and homely costume, As they sit beside their hearth-stones. Wherefore should I not be singing, And the children too be chanting Underneath these painted rafters, In these halls renowned and ancient? This the place for men to linger, This the court-room for the maidens, Near the foaming beer of barley, Honey-brewed in great abundance, Very near, the salmon-waters, Near, the nets for trout and whiting, Here where food is never wanting, Where the beer is ever brewing. Here Wainola's sons assemble, Here Wainola's daughters gather, Here they never eat in trouble, Here they live without regretting, In the life-time of the landlord, While the hostess lives and prospers. "Who shall first be sung and lauded? Shall it be the bride or bridegroom? Let us praise the bridegroom's father, Let the hero-host be chanted, Him whose home is in the forest, Him who built upon the mountains, Him who brought the trunks of lindens, With their tops and slender branches, Brought them to the best of places, Joined them skilfully together, For the mansion of the nation, For this famous hero-dwelling, Walls procured upon the lowlands, Rafters from the pine and fir-tree, From the woodlands beams of oak-wood, From the berry-plains the studding, Bark was furnished by the aspen, And the mosses from the fenlands. Trimly builded is this mansion, In a haven warmly sheltered; Here a hundred men have labored, On the roof have stood a thousand, As this spacious house was building, As this roof was tightly jointed. Here the ancient mansion-builder, When these rafters were erected, Lost in storms his locks of sable, Scattered by the winds of heaven. Often has the hero-landlord On the rocks his gloves forgotten, Left his hat upon the willows, Lost his mittens in the marshes; Oftentimes the mansion-builder, In the early hours of morning, Ere his workmen had awakened, Unperceived by all the village, Has arisen from his slumber, Left his cabin the snow-fields, Combed his locks among the branches, Bathed his eyes in dews of morning. "Thus obtained the pleasant landlord Friends to fill his spacious dwelling, Fill his benches with magicians, Fill his windows with enchanters, Fill his halls with wizard-singers, Fill his floors with ancient speakers, Fill his ancient court with strangers, Fill his hurdles with the needy; Thus the Kalew-host is lauded. "Now I praise the genial hostess, Who prepares the toothsome dinner, Fills with plenty all her tables, Bakes the honeyed loaves of barley, Kneads the dough with magic fingers, With her arms of strength and beauty, Bakes her bread in copper ovens, Feeds her guests and bids them welcome, Feeds them on the toothsome bacon, On the trout, and pike, and whiting, On the rarest fish in ocean, On the dainties of Wainola. "Often has the faithful hostess Risen from her couch in silence, Ere the crowing of the watcher, To prepare the wedding-banquet, Make her tables look attractive. Brew the honey-beer of wedlock. Excellently has the housewife, Has the hostess filled with wisdom, Brewed the beer from hops and barley, From the corn of Kalevala, From the wheat-malt honey-seasoned, Stirred the beer with graceful fingers, At the oven in the penthouse, In the chamber swept and polished. Neither did the prudent hostess, Beautiful, and full of wisdom, Let the barley sprout too freely, Lest the beer should taste of black-earth, Be too bitter in the brewing, Often went she to the garners, Went alone at hour of midnight, Was not frightened by the black-wolf, Did not fear the beasts of woodlands. "Now the hostess I have lauded, Let me praise the favored suitor, Now the honored hero-bridegroom, Best of all the village-masters. Clothed in purple is the hero, Raiment brought from distant nations, Tightly fitting to his body; Snugly sets his coat of ermine, To the floor it hangs in beauty, Trailing from his neck and shoulders, Little of his vest appearing, Peeping through his outer raiment, Woven by the Moon's fair daughters, And his vestment silver-tinselled. Dressed in neatness is the suitor, Round his waist a belt of copper, Hammered by the Sun's sweet maidens, Ere the early fires were lighted, Ere the fire had been discovered. Dressed in richness is the bridegroom, On his feet are silken stockings, Silken ribbons on his ankles, Gold and silver interwoven. Dressed in beauty is the bridegroom, On his feet are shoes of deer-skin, Like the swans upon the water, Like the blue-duck on the sea-waves, Like the thrush among the willows, Like the water-birds of Northland. Well adorned the hero-suitor, With his locks of golden color, With his gold-beard finely braided, Hero-hat upon his forehead, Piercing through the forest branches, Reaching to the clouds of heaven, Bought with countless gold and silver, Priceless is the suitor's head-gear. "Now the bridegroom has been lauded, I will praise the young bride's playmate, Day-companion in her childhood, In the maiden's magic mansion. Whence was brought the merry maiden, From the village of Tanikka? Thence was never brought the playmate, Playmate of the bride in childhood. Has she come from distant nations, From the waters of the Dwina, O'er the ocean far-outstretching? Not from Dwina came the maiden, Did not sail across the waters; Grew as berry in the mountains, As a strawberry of sweetness, On the fields the child of beauty, In the glens the golden flower. Thence has come the young bride's playmate, Thence arose her fair companion. Tiny are her feet and fingers, Small her lips of scarlet color, Like the maiden's loom of Suomi; Eyes that shine in kindly beauty Like the twinkling stars of heaven; Beam the playmate's throbbing temples Like the moonlight on the waters. Trinkets has the bride's companion, On her neck a golden necklace, In her tresses, silken ribbons, On her arms are golden bracelets, Golden rings upon her fingers, Pearls are set in golden ear-rings, Loops of gold upon her temples, And with pearls her brow is studded. Northland thought the Moon was shining When her jeweled ear-ringsglistened; Thought the Sun had left his station When her girdle shone in beauty; Thought a ship was homeward sailing When her colored head-gear fluttered. Thus is praised the bride's companion, Playmate of the Rainbow-maiden. "Now I praise the friends assembled, All appear in graceful manners; If the old are wise and silent, All the youth are free and merry, All the guests are fair and worthy. Never was there in Wainola, Never will there be in Northland, Such a company assembled; All the children speak in joyance, All the aged move sedately; Dressed in white are all the maidens, Like the hoar-frost of the morning, Like the welcome dawn of spring-time, Like the rising of the daylight. Silver then was more abundant, Gold among the guests in plenty, On the hills were money, pockets, Money-bags along the valleys, For the friends that were invited, For the guests in joy assembled. All the friends have now been lauded, Each has gained his meed of honor." Wainamoinen, old and truthful, Song-deliverer of Northland, Swung himself upon the fur-bench Or his magic sledge of copper, Straightway hastened to his hamlet, Singing as he journeyed onward, Singing charms and incantations, Singing one day, then a second, All the third day chanting legends. On the rocks the runners rattled, Hung the sledge upon a birch-stump, Broke it into many pieces, With the magic of his singing; Double were the runners bended, All the parts were torn asunder, And his magic sledge was ruined. Then the good, old Wainamoinen Spake these words in meditation: "Is there one among this number, In this rising generation, Or perchance among the aged, In the passing generation, That will go to Mana's kingdom, To the empire of Tuoni, There to get the magic auger From the master of Manala, That I may repair my snow-sledge, Or a second sledge may fashion?" What the younger people answered Was the answer of the aged: "Not among the youth of Northland, Nor among the aged heroes, Is there one of ample courage, That has bravery sufficient, To attempt the reckless journey To the kingdom of Tuoni, To Manala's fields and castles, Thence to bring Tuoni's auger, Wherewithal to mend thy snow-sledge, Build anew thy sledge of magic." Thereupon old Wainamoinen, The eternal wisdom-singer, Went again to Mana's empire, To the kingdom of Tuoni, Crossed the sable stream of Deathland, To the castles of Manala, Found the auger of Tuoni, Brought the instrument in safety. Straightway sings old Wainamoinen, Sings to life a purple forest, In the forest, slender birches, And beside them, mighty oak-trees, Shapes them into shafts and runners, Moulds them by his will and power, Makes anew his sledge of magic. On his steed he lays the harness, Binds him to his sledge securely, Seats himself upon the cross-bench, And the racer gallops homeward, To the manger filled and waiting, To the stable of his master; Brings the ancient Wainamoinen, Famous bard and wise enchanter, To the threshold of his dwelling, To his home in Kalevala.

RUNE XXVI

ORIGIN OF THE SERPENT

Ahti, living on the island, Near the Kauko-point and harbor, Plowed his fields for rye and barley, Furrowed his extensive pastures, Heard with quickened ears an uproar, Heard the village in commotion, Heard a noise along the sea-shore, Heard the foot-steps on the ice-plain, Heard the rattle of the sledges; Quick his mind divined the reason, Knew it was Pohyola's wedding, Wedding of the Rainbow-virgin. Quick he stopped in disappointment, Shook his sable locks in envy, Turned his hero-head in anger, While the scarlet blood ceased flowing Through his pallid face and temples; Ceased his plowing and his sowing, On the field he left the furrows, On his steed he lightly mounted, Straightway galloped fleetly homeward To his well-beloved mother, To his mother old and golden, Gave his mother these directions, These the words of Lemminkainen: "My beloved, faithful mother, Quickly bring me beer and viands, Bring me food for I am hungry, Food and drink for me abundant, Have my bath-room quickly heated, Quickly set the room in order, That I may refresh my body, Dress myself in hero-raiment." Lemminkainen's aged mother Brings her hero food in plenty, Beer and viands for the hungry, For her thirsting son and hero; Quick she heats the ancient bath-room, Quickly sets his bath in order. Then the reckless Lemminkainen Ate his meat with beer inspiring, Hastened to his bath awaiting; Only was the bullfinch bathing, With the many-colored bunting; Quick the hero laved his temples, Laved himself to flaxen whiteness, Quick returning to his mother, Spake in haste the words that follow: "My beloved, helpful mother, Go at once to yonder mountain, To the store-house on the hill-top, Bring my vest of finest texture, Bring my hero-coat of purple, Bring my suit of magic colors, Thus to make me look attractive, Thus to robe myself in beauty." First the ancient mother asked him, Asked her son this simple question: "Whither dost thou go, my hero? Dost thou go to hunt the roebuck, Chase the lynx upon the mountains, Shoot the squirrel in the woodlands?" Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Also known as Kaukomieli: "Worthy mother of my being, Go I not to hunt the roebuck, Chase the lynx upon the mountains, Shoot the squirrel on the tree-tops; I am going to Pohyola, To the feasting of her people. Bring at once my purple vestments, Straightway bring my nuptial outfit, Let me don it for the marriage Of the maiden of the Northland." But the ancient dame dissented, And the wife forebade the husband; Two of all the best of heroes, Three of nature's fairest daughters, Strongly urged wild Lemminkainen Not to go to Sariola, To Pohyola's great carousal, To the marriage-feast of Northland, "Since thou hast not been invited, Since they do not wish thy presence." Spake the reckless Lemminkainen. These the words of Kaukomieli: "Where the wicked are invited, There the good are always welcome, Herein lies my invitation; I am constantly reminded By this sword of sharpened edges, By this magic blade and scabbard, That Pohyola needs my presence." Lemminkainen's aged mother Sought again to stay her hero: "Do not go, my son beloved, To the feasting in Pohyola; Full of horrors are the highways, On the road are many wonders, Three times Death appears to frighten, Thrice destruction hovers over!" Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, These the words of Kaukomieli: "Death is seen by aged people, Everywhere they see perdition, Death can never frighten heroes, Heroes do not fear the spectre; Be that as it may, dear mother, Tell that I may understand thee, Name the first of all destructions, Name the first and last destroyers!" Lemminkainen's mother answered: "I will tell thee, son and hero, Not because I wish to speak it, But because the truth is worthy; I will name the chief destruction, Name the first of the destroyers. When thou hast a distance journeyed, Only one day hast thou travelled, Comes a stream along the highway, Stream of fire of wondrous beauty, In the stream a mighty fire-spout, In the spout a rock uprising, On the rock a fiery hillock, On the top a flaming eagle, And his crooked beak he sharpens, Sharpens too his bloody talons, For the coming of the stranger, For the people that approach him." Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: "Women die beneath the eagle, Such is not the death of heroes; Know I well a magic lotion, That will heal the wounds of eagles; Make myself a steed of alders, That will walk as my companion, That will stride ahead majestic; As a duck I'll drive behind him, Drive him o'er the fatal waters, Underneath the flaming eagle, With his bloody beak and talons. Worthy mother of my being, Name the second of destroyers." Lemminkainen's mother answered: "This the second of destroyers: When thou hast a distance wandered, Only two clays hast thou travelled, Comes a pit of fire to meet thee, In the centre of the highway, Eastward far the pit extending, Stretches endless to the westward, Filled with burning coals and pebbles, Glowing with the heat of ages; Hundreds has this monster swallowed, In his jaws have thousands perished, Hundreds with their trusty broadswords, Thousands on their fiery chargers." Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: "Never will the hero perish In the jaws of such a monster; Know I well the means of safety, Know a remedy efficient: I will make of snow a master, On the snow-clad fields, a hero, Drive the snow-man on before me, Drive him through the flaming vortex, Drive him through the fiery furnace, With my magic broom of copper; I will follow in his shadow, Follow close the magic image, Thus escape the frightful monster, With my golden locks uninjured, With my flowing beard untangled. Ancient mother of my being, Name the last of the destructions, Name the third of the destroyers." Lemminkainen's mother answered: "This the third of fatal dangers: Hast thou gone a greater distance, Hast thou travelled one day longer, To the portals of Pohyola, To the narrowest of gate-ways, There a wolf will rise to meet thee, There the black-bear sneak upon thee-, In Pohyola's darksome portals, Hundreds in their jaws have perished, Have devoured a thousand heroes; Wherefore will they not destroy thee, Since thy form is unprotected?" Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: "Let them eat the gentle lambkins, Feed upon their tender tissues, They cannot devour this hero; I am girded with my buckler, Girded with my belt of copper, Armlets wear I of the master, From the wolf and bear protected, Will not hasten to Untamo. I can meet the wolf of Lempo, For the bear I have a balsam, For his mouth I conjure bridles, For the wolf, forge chains of iron; I will smite them as the willow, Chop them into little fragments, Thus I'll gain the open court-yard, Thus triumphant end my journey." Lemminkainen's mother answered: "Then thy journey is not ended, Greater dangers still await thee, Great the wonders yet before thee, Horrors three within thy pathway; Three great dangers of the hero Still await thy reckless footsteps, These the worst of all thy dangers: When thou hast still farther wandered, Thou wilt reach the Court of Pohya, Where the walls are forged from iron, And from steel the outer bulwark; Rises from the earth to heaven, Back again to earth returning; Double spears are used for railings, On each spear are serpents winding, On each rail are stinging adders; Lizards too adorn the bulwarks, Play their long tails in the sunlight, Hissing lizards, venomed serpents, Jump and writhe upon the rampart, Turn their horrid heads to meet thee; On the greensward lie the monsters, On the ground the things of evil, With their pliant tongues of venom, Hissing, striking, crawling, writhing; One more horrid than the others, Lies before the fatal gate-way, Longer than the longest rafters, Larger than the largest portals; Hisses with the tongue of anger, Lifts his head in awful menace, Raises it to strike none other Than the hero of the islands." Spake the warlike Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: "By such things the children perish, Such is not the death of heroes; Know I well the fire to manage, I can quench the flames of passion, I can meet the prowling wild-beasts, Can appease the wrath of serpents, I can heal the sting of adders, I have plowed the serpent-pastures, Plowed the adder-fields of Northland; While my hands were unprotected, Held the serpents in my fingers, Drove the adders to Manala, On my hands the blood of serpents, On my feet the fat of adders. Never will thy hero stumble On the serpents of the Northland; With my heel I'll crush the monsters, Stamp the horrid things to atoms; I will banish them from Pohya, Drive them to Manala's kingdom, Step within Pohyola's mansion, Walk the halls of Sariola!" Lemminkainen's mother answered: "Do not go, my son beloved, To the firesides of Pohyola, Through the Northland fields and fallows; There are warriors with broadswords, Heroes clad in mail of copper, Are on beer intoxicated, By the beer are much embittered; They will charm thee, hapless creature, On the tips of swords of magic; Greater heroes have been conjured, Stronger ones have been outwitted." Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: "Formerly thy son resided In the hamlets of Pohyola; Laplanders cannot enchant me, Nor the Turyalanders harm me I the Laplander will conjure, Charm him with my magic powers, Sing his shoulders wide asunder, In his chin I'll sing a fissure, Sing his collar-bone to pieces, Sing his breast to thousand fragments." Lemminkainen's mother answered: "Foolish son, ungrateful wizard, Boasting of thy former visit, Boasting of thy fatal journey! Once in Northland thou wert living, In the homesteads of Pohyola; There thou tried to swim the whirlpool, Tasted there the dog-tongue waters, Floated down the fatal current, Sank beneath its angry billows; Thou hast seen Tuoni's river, Thou hast measured Mana's waters, There to-day thou wouldst be sleeping, Had it not been for thy mother! What I tell thee well remember, Shouldst thou gain Pohyola's chambers, Filled with stakes thou'lt find the court-yard, These to hold the heads of heroes; There thy head will rest forever, Shouldst thou go to Sariola." Spake the warlike Lemminkainen: "Fools indeed may heed thy counsel, Cowards too may give attention; Those of seven conquest-summers Cannot heed such weak advising. Bring to me my battle-armor. Bring my magic mail of copper, Bring me too my father's broadsword, Keep the old man's blade from rusting; Long it has been cold and idle, Long has lain in secret places, Long and constantly been weeping, Long been asking for a bearer." Then he took his mail of copper, Took his ancient battle-armor, Took his father's sword of magic, Tried its point against the oak-wood, Tried its edge upon the sorb-tree; In his hand the blade was bended, Like the limber boughs of willow, Like the juniper in summer. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: "There is none in Pohya's hamlets, In the courts of Sariola, That with me can measure broadswords, That can meet this blade ancestral." From the nail he took a cross-bow, Took the strongest from the rafters, Spake these words in meditation: "I shall recognize as worthy, Recognize that one a hero That can bend this mighty cross-bow, That can break its magic sinews, In the hamlets of Pohyola." Lemminkainen, filled with courage, Girds himself in suit of battle, Dons his mighty mail of copper, To his servant speaks as follows: "Trusty slave, and whom I purchased, Whom I bought with gold and silver, Quick prepare my fiery charger, Harness well my steed of battle; I am going to the feasting, To the banquet-fields of Lempo." Quick obeys the faithful servant, Hitches well the noble war-horse, Quick prepares the fire-red stallion, Speaks these words when all is I ready: "I have done what thou hast hidden, Ready harnessed is the charger, Waiting to obey his master." Comes the hour of the departing Of the hero, Lemminkainen, Right hand ready, left unwilling, All his anxious fingers pain him, Till at last in full obedience, All his members give permission; Starts the hero on his journey, While the mother gives him counsel, At the threshold of the dwelling, At the highway of the court-yard: "Child of courage, my beloved, Son of strength, my wisdom-hero, If thou goest to the feasting, Shouldst thou reach the great carousal, Drink thou only a half a cupful, Drink the goblet to the middle, Always give the half remaining, Give the worse half to another, To another more unworthy; In the lower half are serpents, Worms, and frogs, and hissing lizards, Feeding on the slimy bottom." Furthermore she tells her hero, Gives her son these sage directions, On the border of the court-yard, At the portals farthest distant: "If thou goest to the banquet, Shouldst thou reach the great carousal, Occupy but half the settle, Take but half a stride in walking, Give the second half to others, To another less deserving; Only thus thou'lt be a hero, Thus become a son immortal; In the guest-rooms look courageous, Bravely move about the chambers, In the gatherings of heroes, With the hosts of magic valor." Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Quickly leaped upon the cross-bench Of his battle-sledge of wonder, Raised his pearl-enamelled birch-rod, Snapped his whip above his charger, And the steed flew onward fleetly, Galloped on his distant journey. He had travelled little distance, When a flight of hazel-chickens Quick arose before his coming, Flew before the foaming racer. There were left some feathers lying, Feathers of the hazel-chickens, Lying in the hero's pathway. These the reckless Lemminkainen Gathered for their magic virtues, Put them in his pouch of leather, Did not know what things might happen On his journey to Pohyola; All things have some little value, In a strait all things are useful. Then he drove a little distance, Galloped farther on the highway, When his courser neighed in danger, And the fleet-foot ceased his running. Then the stout-heart, Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Rose upon his seat in wonder, Craned his neck and looked about him Found it as his mother told him, Found a stream of fire opposing; Ran the fire-stream like a river, Ran across the hero's pathway. In the river was a fire-fall, In the cataract a fire-rock, On the rock a fiery hillock, On its summit perched an eagle, From his throat the fire was streaming To the crater far below him, Fire out-shooting from his feathers, Glowing with a fiery splendor; Long he looked upon the hero, Long he gazed on Lemminkainen, Then the eagle thus addressed him: "Whither art thou driving, Ahti, Whither going, Lemminkainen?" Kaukomieli spake in answer: "To the feastings of Pohyola, To the drinking-halls of Louhi, To the banquet of her people; Move aside and let me journey, Move a little from my pathway, Let this wanderer pass by thee, I am warlike Lemminkainen." This the answer of the eagle, Screaming from his throat of splendor: "Though thou art wild Lemminkainen, I shall let thee wander onward, Through my fire-throat let thee journey, Through these flames shall be thy passage To the banquet-halls of Louhi, To Pohyola's great carousal!" Little heeding, Kaukomieli Thinks himself in little trouble, Thrusts his fingers in his pockets, Searches in his pouch of leather, Quickly takes the magic feathers, Feathers from the hazel-chickens, Rubs them into finest powder, Rubs them with his magic fingers Whence a flight of birds arises, Hazel-chickens from the feathers, Large the bevy of the young birds. Quick the wizard, Lemminkainen, Drives them to the eagle's fire-mouth, Thus to satisfy his hunger, Thus to quench the fire out-streaming. Thus escapes the reckless hero, Thus escapes the first of dangers, Passes thus the first destroyer, On his journey to Pohyola. With his whip he strikes his courser, With his birch-whip, pearl-enamelled; Straightway speeds the fiery charger, Noiselessly upon his journey, Gallops fast and gallops faster, Till the flying steed in terror Neighs again and ceases running. Lemminkainen, quickly rising, Cranes his neck and looks about him, Sees his mother's words were truthful, Sees her augury well-taken. Lo! before him yawned a fire-gulf, Stretching crosswise through his pathway; Far to east the gulf extending, To the west an endless distance, Filled with stones and burning pebbles, Running streams of burning matter. Little heeding, Lemminkainen Cries aloud in prayer to Ukko: "Ukko, thou O God above me, Dear Creator, omnipresent, From the north-west send a storm-cloud, From the east, dispatch a second, From the south send forth a third one; Let them gather from the south-west, Sew their edges well together, Fill thou well the interspaces, Send a snow-fall high as heaven, Let it fall from upper ether, Fall upon the flaming fire-pit, On the cataract and whirlpool!" Mighty Ukko, the Creator, Ukko, father omnipresent, Dwelling in the courts of heaven, Sent a storm-cloud from the north-west, From the east he sent a second, From the south despatched a third one, Let them gather from the south-west, Sewed their edges well together, Filled their many interspaces, Sent a snow-fall high as heaven, From the giddy heights of ether, Sent it seething to the fire-pit, On the streams of burning matter; From the snow-fall in the fire-pond, Grows a lake with rolling billows. Quick the hero, Lemminkainen, Conjures there of ice a passage From one border to the other, Thus escapes his second danger, Thus his second trouble passes. Then the reckless Lemminkainen Raised his pearl-enamelled birch-rod, Snapped his whip above his racer, And the steed flew onward swiftly, Galloped on his distant journey O'er the highway to Pohyola; Galloped fast and galloped faster, Galloped on a greater distance, When the stallion loudly neighing, Stopped and trembled on the highway, Then the lively Lemminkainen Raised himself upon the cross-bench, Looked to see what else had happened; Lo I a wolf stands at the portals, in the passage-way a black-bear, At the high-gate of Pohyola, At the ending of the journey. Thereupon young Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Thrusts his fingers in his pockets, Seeks his magic pouch of leather, Pulls therefrom a lock of ewe-wool, Rubs it firmly in his fingers, In his hands it falls to powder; Breathes the breath of life upon it, When a flock of sheep arises, Goats and sheep of sable color; On the flock the black-wolf pounces, And the wild-bear aids the slaughter, While the reckless Lemminkainen Rushes by them on his journey; Gallops on a little distance, To the court of Sariola, Finds the fence of molten iron, And of steel the rods and pickets, In the earth a hundred fathoms, To the azure sky, a thousand, Double-pointed spears projecting; On each spear were serpents twisted, Adders coiled in countless numbers, Lizards mingled with the serpents, Tails entangled pointing earthward, While their heads were skyward whirling, Writhing, hissing mass of evil. Then the stout-heart, Kaukomieli, Deeply thought and long considered: "It is as my mother told me, This the wall that she predicted, Stretching from the earth to heaven; Downward deep are serpents creeping, Deeper still the rails extending; High as highest flight of eagles, Higher still the wall shoots upward." But the hero, Lemminkainen, Little cares, nor feels disheartened, Draws his broadsword from its scabbard, Draws his mighty blade ancestral, Hews the wall with might of magic, Breaks the palisade in pieces, Hews to atoms seven pickets, Chops the serpent-wall to fragments; Through the breach he quickly passes To the portals of Pohyola. In the way, a serpent lying, Lying crosswise in the entry, Longer than the longest rafters, Larger than the posts of oak-wood; Hundred-eyed, the heinous serpent, And a thousand tongues, the monster, Eyes as large as sifting vessels, Tongues as long as shafts of javelins, Teeth as large as hatchet-handles, Back as broad as skiffs of ocean. Lemminkainen does not venture Straightway through this host opposing, Through the hundred heads of adders, Through the thousand tongues of serpents. Spake the magic Lemminkainen: "Venomed viper, thing of evil, Ancient adder of Tuoni, Thou that crawlest in the stubble, Through the flower-roots of Lempo, Who has sent thee from thy kingdom, Sent thee from thine evil coverts, Sent thee hither, crawling, writhing, In the pathway I would travel? Who bestowed thy mouth of venom, Who insisted, who commanded, Thou shouldst raise thy head toward heaven, Who thy tail has given action? Was this given by the father, Did the mother give this power, Or the eldest of the brothers, Or the youngest of the sisters, Or some other of thy kindred? "Close thy mouth, thou thing of evil, Hide thy pliant tongue of venom, In a circle wrap thy body, Coil thou like a shield in silence, Give to me one-half the pathway, Let this wanderer pass by thee, Or remove thyself entirely; Get thee hence to yonder heather, Quick retreat to bog and stubble, Hide thyself in reeds and rushes, In the brambles of the lowlands. Like a ball of flax enfolding, Like a sphere of aspen-branches, With thy head and tail together, Roll thyself to yonder mountain; In the heather is thy dwelling, Underneath the sod thy caverns. Shouldst thou raise thy head in anger, Mighty Ukko will destroy it, Pierce it with his steel-tipped arrows, With his death-balls made of iron!" Hardly had the hero ended, When the monster, little heeding, Hissing with his tongue in anger, Plying like the forked lightning, Pounces with his mouth of venom At the head of Lemminkainen; But the hero, quick recalling, Speaks the master-words of knowledge, Words that came from distant ages, Words his ancestors had taught him, Words his mother learned in childhood, These the words of Lemminkainen: "Since thou wilt not heed mine order, Since thou wilt not leave the highway, Puffed with pride of thine own greatness, Thou shall burst in triple pieces. Leave thy station for the borders, I will hunt thine ancient mother, Sing thine origin of evil, How arose thy head of horror; Suoyatar, thine ancient mother, Thing of evil, thy creator!" "Suoyatar once let her spittle Fall upon the waves of ocean; This was rocked by winds and waters, Shaken by the ocean-currents, Six years rocked upon the billows, Rocked in water seven summers, On the blue-back of the ocean, On the billows high as heaven; Lengthwise did the billows draw it, And the sunshine gave it softness, To the shore the billows washed it, On the coast the waters left it. "Then appeared Creation's daughters, Three the daughters thus appearing, On the roaring shore of ocean, There beheld the spittle lying, And the daughters spake as follows: 'What would happen from this spittle, Should the breath of the Creator Fall upon the writhing matter, Breathe the breath of life upon it, Give the thing the sense of vision? "The Creator heard these measures, Spake himself the words that follow: 'Evil only comes from evil, This is the expectoration Of fell Suoyatar, its mother; Therefore would the thing be evil, Should I breathe a soul within it, Should I give it sense of vision.' "Hisi heard this conversation, Ever ready with his mischief, Made himself to be creator, Breathed a soul into the spittle, To fell Suoyatar's fierce anger. Thus arose the poison-monster, Thus was born the evil serpent, This the origin of evil. "Whence the life that gave her action'? From the carbon-pile of Hisi. Whence then was her heart created? From the heart-throbs of her mother Whence arose her brain of evil? From the foam of rolling waters. Whence was consciousness awakened? From the waterfall's commotion. Whence arose her head of venom? From the seed-germs of the ivy. Whence then came her eyes of fury? From the flaxen seeds of Lempo. Whence the evil ears for hearing? From the foliage of Hisi. Whence then was her mouth created? This from Suoyatar's foam-currents Whence arose thy tongue of anger r From the spear of Keitolainen. Whence arose thy fangs of poison? From the teeth of Mana's daughter. Whence then was thy back created? From the carbon-posts of Piru. How then was thy tail created? From the brain of the hobgoblin. Whence arose thy writhing entrails? From the death-belt of Tuoni. "This thine origin, O Serpent, This thy charm of evil import, Vilest thing of God's creation, Writhing, hissing thing of evil, With the color of Tuoni, With the shade of earth and heaven, With the darkness of the storm-cloud. Get thee hence, thou loathsome monster, Clear the pathway of this hero. I am mighty Lemminkainen, On my journey to Pohyola, To the feastings and carousals, In the halls of darksome Northland." Thereupon the snake uncoiling, Hundred-eyed and heinous monster, Crawled away to other portals, That the hero, Kaukomieli, Might proceed upon his errand, To the dismal Sariola, To the feastings and carousals In the banquet-halls of Pohya.

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