The Kalevala, Rune 21 to 30

Suitable for all ages, Teens and up
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The Kalevala herald from when we northerners walked the Earth as Vikings, Norse men and Scandinavians long before any Nordic man and woman where ever known to the world as Vikings or in any way laid claim to any Christian values in any way shape and form.

Part Beowulf, part Iliad, ballads and poems, but all Nordic heritage.

Photography and web adaptation by Mike Koontz
2015, a Norse View Imaging and Publishing

Music of the day Ghost of navigator - by Iron Maiden

To the daisy that is my sun and inspiration

Chapters and pages, library and language menu to the left of the screen

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A feast

[of mead

and ravens ]

Louhi, hostess of the Northland,
Ancient dame of Sariola,
While at work within her dwelling,
Heard the whips crack on the fenlands,
Heard the rattle of the sledges;
To the northward turned her glances,
Turned her vision to the sunlight,
And her thoughts ran on as follow:

"Who are these in bright apparel,
On the banks of Pohya-waters,
Are they friends or hostile armies?"

Then the hostess of the Northland
Looked again and well considered,
Drew much nearer to examine,
Found they were not hostile armies,
Found that they were friends and suitors.

In the midst was Ilmarinen,
Son-in-law to ancient Louhi.
When the hostess of Pohyola
Saw the son-in-law approaching
She addressed the words that follow:

The winds were not in battle

"I had thought the winds were raging,
That the piles of wood were falling,
Thought the pebbles in commotion,
Or perchance the ocean roaring;
Then I hastened nearer, nearer,
Drew still nearer and examined,
Found the winds were not in battle,
Found the piles of wood unshaken,
Found the ocean was not roaring,
Nor the pebbles in commotion,
Found my son-in-law was coming
With his heroes and attendants,
Heroes counted by the hundreds.

"Should you ask of me the question,
How I recognized the bridegroom
Mid the hosts of men and heroes,
I should answer, I should tell you:
'As the hazel-bush in copses,
As the oak-tree in the forest,
As the Moon among the planets;
Drives the groom a coal-black courser,
Running like the famished black-dog,
Flying like the hungry raven,
Graceful as the lark at morning,
Golden cuckoos, six in number,
Twitter on the birchen cross-bow;
There are seven bluebirds singing
On the racer's hame and collar."

Noises hear they in the court-yard,
On the highway hear the sledges,
To the court comes Ilmarinen,
With his body-guard of heroes;
In the midst the chosen suitor,
Not too far in front of others,
Not too far behind his fellows.

Spake the hostess of Pohyola:

"Hie ye hither, men and heroes,
Haste, ye watchers, to the stables,
There unhitch the suitor's stallion,
Lower well the racer's breast-plate,
There undo the straps and buckles,
Loosen well the shafts and traces,
And conduct the suitor hither,
Give my son-in-law good welcome!"

Ilmarinen turned his racer
Into Louhi's yard and stables,
And descended from his snow-sledge.
Spake the hostess of Pohyola:

"Come, thou servant of my bidding,
Best of all my trusted servants,
Take at once the bridegroom's courser
From the shafts adorned with silver,
From the curving arch of willow,
Lift the harness trimmed in copper,
Tie the white-face to the manger,
Treat the suitor's steed with kindness,
Lead him carefully to shelter
By his soft and shining bridle,
By his halter tipped with silver;
Let him roll among the sand-hills,
On the bottoms soft and even,
On the borders of the snow-banks,
In the fields of milky color.

"Lead the hero's steed to water,
Lead him to the Pohya-fountains,
Where the living streams are flowing,
Sweet as milk of human kindness,
From the roots of silvery birches,
Underneath the shade of aspens.

the life of Norse men, beneath the aspens and raven filled gray skies

"Feed the courser of the suitor,
On the sweetest corn and barley,
On the summer-wheat and clover,
In the caldron steeped in sweetness;
Feed him at the golden manger,
In the boxes lined with copper,
At my manger richly furnished,
In the warmest of the stables;
Tie him with a silk-like halter,
To the golden rings and staples,
To the hooks of purest silver,
Set in beams of birch and oak-wood;
Feed him on the hay the sweetest,
Feed him on the corn nutritious,
Give the best my barns can furnish.

"Curry well the suitor's courser
With the curry-comb of fish-bone,
Brush his hair with silken brushes,
Put his mane and tail in order,
Cover well with flannel blankets,
Blankets wrought in gold and silver,
Buckles forged from shining copper.

"Come, ye small lads of the village,
Lead the suitor to my chambers,
With your auburn locks uncovered,
From your hands remove your mittens,
See if ye can lead the hero
Through the door without his stooping,
Lifting not the upper cross-bar,
Lowering not the oaken threshold,
Moving not the birchen casings,
Great the hero who must enter.

"Ilmarinen is too stately,
Cannot enter through the portals,
Not the son-in-law and bridegroom,
Till the portals have been heightened;
Taller by a head the suitor
Than the door-ways of the mansion."

Quick the servants of Pohyola
Tore away the upper cross-bar,
That his cap might not be lifted;
Made the oaken threshold lower
That the hero might not stumble;
Made the birch-wood portals wider,
Opened full the door of welcome,
Easy entrance for the suitor.

Speaks the hostess of the Northland
As the bridegroom freely passes
Through the doorway of her dwelling:

"Thanks are due to thee, O Ukko,
That my son-in-law has entered!
Let me now my halls examine;
Make the bridal chambers ready,
Finest linen on my tables,
Softest furs upon my benches,
Birchen flooring scrubbed to whiteness,
All my rooms in perfect order."

Then the hostess of Pohyola
Visited her spacious dwelling,
Did not recognize her chambers;
Every room had been remodeled,
Changed by force of mighty magic;
All the halls were newly burnished,
Hedge-hog bones were used for ceilings,
Bones of reindeer for foundations,
Bones of wolverine for door-sills,
For the cross-bars bones of roebuck,
Apple-wood were all the rafters,
Alder-wood, the window-casings,
Scales of trout adorned the windows,
And the fires were set in flowers.

All the seats were made of silver,
All the floors of copper-tiling,
Gold-adorned were all the tables,
On the floor were silken mattings,
Every fire-place set in copper,
Every hearth-stone cut from marble,
On each shelf were colored sea-shells,
Kalew's tree was their protection.

To the court-room came the hero,
Chosen suitor from Wainola,

the chosen suitor

These the words of Ilmarinen:

"Send, O Ukko, health and pleasure
To this ancient home and dwelling,
To this mansion richly fashioned!"

Spake the hostess of Pohyola:

"Let thy coming be auspicious
To these halls of thee unworthy,
To the home of thine affianced,
To this dwelling lowly fashioned,
Mid the lindens and the aspens.

"Come, ye maidens that should serve me,
Come, ye fellows from the village,
Bring me fire upon the birch-bark,
Light the fagots of the fir-tree,
That I may behold the bridegroom,
Chosen suitor of my daughter,
Fairy Maiden of the Rainbow,
See the color of his eyeballs,
Whether they are blue or sable,
See if they are warm and faithful."

Quick the young lads from the village
Brought the fire upon the birch-bark,
Brought it on the tips of pine-wood;
And the fire and smoke commingled
Roll and roar about the hero,
Blackening the suitor's visage,
And the hostess speaks as follows;

"Bring the fire upon a taper,
On the waxen tapers bring it!"
Then the maidens did as bidden,
Quickly brought the lighted tapers,
Made the suitor's eyeballs glisten,
Made his cheeks look fresh and ruddy;
Made his eyes of sable color
Sparkle like the foam of waters,
Like the reed-grass on the margin,
Colored as the ocean jewels,
Iridescent as the rainbow.

"Come, ye fellows of the hamlet,
Lead my son-in-law and hero
To the highest seat at table,
To the seat of greatest honor,
With his back upon the blue-wall,
Looking on my bounteous tables,
Facing all the guests of Northland."

Then the hostess of Pohyola
Served her guests in great abundance,
Richest drinks and rarest viands,
First of all she, served the bridegroom
On his platters, honeyed biscuit,
And the sweetest river salmon,
Seasoned butter, roasted bacon,
All the dainties of Pohyola.

Then the helpers served the others,
Filled the plates of all invited
With the varied food of Northland.

Spake the hostess of Pohyola:

"Come, ye maidens from the village,
Hither bring the beer in pitchers,
In the urns with double handles,
To the many guests in-gathered,
Ere all others, serve the bridegroom."

Thereupon the merry maidens
Brought the beer in silver pitchers
From the copper-banded vessels,
For the wedding-guests assembled;
And the beer, fermenting, sparkled
On the beard of Ilmarinen,
On the beards of many heroes.

When the guests had all partaken
Of the wondrous beer of barley,
Spake the beer in merry accents
Through the tongues of the magicians,
Through the tongue of many a hero,
Through the tongue of Wainamoinen,
Famed to be the sweetest singer
Of the Northland bards and minstrels,
These the words of the enchanter:

"O thou mead of honeyed flavor,
Let us not imbibe in silence,
Let some hero sing thy praises,
Sing thy worth in golden measures;
Let the hostess start the singing,
Let the bridegroom sound thy virtues!
Have our songs thus quickly vanished,
Have our joyful tongues grown silent?
Evil then has been the brewing,
Then the beer must be unworthy,
That it does not cheer the singer,
Does not move the merry minstrel,
That the golden guests are joyless,
And the cuckoo is not singing.

Never will these benches echo
Till the bench-guests chant thy virtues;
Nor the floor resound thy praises
Till the floor-guests sing in concord;
Nor the windows join the chorus
Till the window-guests have spoken;
All the tables will keep silence
Till the heroes toast thy virtues;
Little singing from the chimney
Till the chimney-guests have chanted."

On the floor a child was sitting,
Thus the little boy made answer:

"I am small and young in singing,
Have perchance but little wisdom;
Be that as it may, my seniors,
Since the elder minstrels sing not,
Nor the heroes chant their legends,
Nor the hostess lead the singing,
I will sing my simple stories,
Sing my little store of knowledge,
To the pleasure of the evening,
To the joy of the invited."

Near the fire reclined an old man,
And the gray-beard thus made answer:

"Not the time for children's singing,
Children's wisdom is too ready,
Children's songs are filled with trifles,
Filled with shrewd and vain deceptions,
Maiden-songs are full of follies;
Leave the songs and incantations
To the ancient wizard-singers;
Leave the tales of times primeval
To the minstrel of Wainola,
To the hero of the Northland,
To the, ancient Wainamoinen."

Thereupon Osmoinen answered:

"Are there not some sweeter singers
In this honored congregation,
That will clasp their hands together,
Sing the ancient songs unbroken,
Thus begin the incantations,
Make these ancient halls re-echo
For the pleasure of the evening,
For the joy of the in-gathered?"

From the hearth-stone spake, the gray-beard

"Not a singer of Pohyola,
Not a minstrel, nor magician,
That was better skilled in chanting
Legends of the days departed,
Than was I when I was singing,
In my years of vain ambition;
Then I chanted tales of heroes,
On the blue back of the waters,
Sang the ballads of my people,
In the vales and on the mountains,
Through the verdant fields and forests;
Sweet my voice and skilled my singing,
All my songs were highly lauded,
Rippled like the quiet rivers,
Easy-flowing like the waters,
Easy-gliding as the snow-shoes,
Like the ship upon the ocean.

"Woe is me, my days are ended,
Would not recognize my singing,
All its sweetness gone to others,
Flows no more like rippling waters,
Makes no more the hills re-echo!
Now my songs are full of discord,
Like the rake upon the stubble,
Like the sledge upon the gravel,
Like the boat upon the sea-shore!"

Then the ancient Wainamoinen
Spake these words in magic measures:

"Since no other bard appeareth
That will clasp my hand in singing,
I will sing some simple legends,
Sing my, garnered store of wisdom,
Make these magic halls re-echo
With my tales of ancient story,
Since a bard I was created,
Born an orator and singer;
Do not ask the ways of others,
Follow not the paths of strangers."

Wainamoinen, famous minstrel,
Song's eternal, wise supporter,
Then began the songs of pleasure,
Made the halls resound with joyance,
Filled the rooms with wondrous singing;
Sang the ancient bard-magician
All the oldest wisdom-sayings,
Did not fail in voice nor legends,
All the wisest thoughts remembered.

Thus the ancient Wainamoinen
Sang the joy of all assembled,
To the pleasure of the evening,
To the merriment of maidens,
To the happiness of heroes;
All the guests were stilled in wonder
At the magic of his singing,
At the songs of the magician.

Spake again wise Wainamoinen,
When his wonder-tales had ended:

"l have little worth or power,
Am a bard of little value,
Little consequence my singing,
Mine abilities as nothing,
If but Ukko, my Creator,
Should intone his wisdom-sayings,
Sing the source of good and evil,
Sing the origin of matter,
Sing the legends of omniscience,
Sing his songs in full perfection.

Gods could sing the floods to honey,
Sing the sands to ruddy berries,
Sing the pebbles into barley,
Sing to beer the running waters,
Sing to salt the rocks of ocean,
Into corn-fields sing the forests,
Into gold the forest-fruitage,
Sing to bread the hills and mountains,
Sing to eggs the rounded sandstones;
He could touch the springs of magic,
He could turn the keys of nature,
And produce within thy pastures,
Hurdles filled with sheep and reindeer,
Stables filled with fleet-foot stallions,
Kine in every field and fallow;
Sing a fur-robe for the bridegroom,
For the bride a coat of ermine,
For the hostess, shoes of silver,
For the hero, mail of copper.

"Grant O Ukko, my Creator,
God of love, and truth, and justice,
Grant thy blessing on our feasting,
Bless this company assembled,
For the good of Sariola,
For the happiness of Northland!
May this bread and mead bring joyance,
May they come in rich abundance,
May they carry full contentment
To the people of Pohyola,
To the cabin and the mansion;
May the hours we spend in singing,
In the morning, in the evening,
Fill our hearts with joy and gladness!
Hear us in our supplications,
Grant to us thy needed blessings,
Send enjoyment, health, and comfort,
To the people here assembled,
To the host and to the hostess,
To the bride and to the bridegroom,
To the sons upon the waters,
To the daughters at their weavings,
To the hunters on the mountains,
To the shepherds in the fenlands,
That our lives may end in honor,
That we may recall with pleasure
Ilmarinen's magic marriage
To the Maiden of the Rainbow,
Snow-white virgin of the Northland."

Death and life

[the best

of friends

and foes]

When the marriage was completed,
When the many guests had feasted, At the wedding of the Northland, At the Dismal-land carousal, Spake the hostess of Pohyola To the blacksmith, Ilmarinen:

"Wherefore, bridegroom, dost thou linger, Why art waiting, Northland hero? Sittest for the father's pleasure, For affection of the mother, For the splendor of the maidens, For the beauty of the daughter? Noble son-in-law and brother, Wait thou longer, having waited Long already for the virgin, Thine affianced is not ready, Not prepared, thy life-companion, Only are her tresses braided.

"Chosen bridegroom, pride of Pohya, Wait thou longer, having waited Long already for the virgin, Thy beloved is preparing, Only is one hand made ready.

"Famous artist, Ilmarinen, Wait still longer, having waited Long already for the virgin, Thy beloved is not ready, Only is one foot in fur-shoes,"

Spake again the ancient Louhi:

"Chosen suitor of my daughter, Thou hast thrice in kindness waited, Wait no longer for the virgin, Thy beloved now is ready, Well prepared thy life-companion, Fairy Maiden of the Rainbow.

"Beauteous daughter, join thy suitor, Follow him, thy chosen husband, Very near is the uniting, Near indeed thy separation. At thy hand the honored bridegroom, Near the door he waits to lead thee, Guide thee to his home and kindred; At the gate his steed is waiting, Restless champs his silver bridle, And the sledge awaits thy presence.

"Thou wert anxious for a suitor, Ready to accept his offer, Wert in haste to take his jewels, Place his rings upon thy fingers; Now, fair daughter, keep thy promise; To his sledge, with happy footsteps, Hie in haste to join the bridegroom, Gaily journey to the village With thy chosen life-companion, With thy suitor, Ilmarinen. Little hast thou looked about thee, Hast not raised thine eyes above thee, Beauteous maiden of the Northland, Hast thou made a rueful bargain, Full of wailing thine engagement, And thy marriage full of sorrow, That thy father's ancient cottage Thou art leaving now forever, Leaving also friends and kindred, For the, blacksmith, Ilmarinen?

"O how beautiful thy childhood, In thy father's dwelling-places, Nurtured like a tender flower, Like the strawberry in spring-time Soft thy couch and sweet thy slumber, Warm thy fires and rich thy table; From the fields came corn in plenty, From the highlands, milk and berries, Wheat and barley in abundance, Fish, and fowl, and hare, and bacon, From thy father's fields and forests.

"Never wert thou, child, in sorrow, Never hadst thou grief nor trouble, All thy cares were left to fir-trees, All thy worry to the copses, All thy weeping to the willows, All thy sighing to the lindens, All thy thinking to the aspens And the birches on the mountains, Light and airy as the leaflet, As a butterfly in summer, Ruddy as a mountain-berry, Beautiful as vernal flowers.

"Now thou leavest home and kindred, Wanderest to other firesides, Goest to another mother, Other sisters, other brothers, Goest to a second father, To the servant-folk of strangers, From thy native hills and lowlands. There and here the homes will differ, Happier thy mother's hearth-stone; Other horns will there be sounded, Other portals there swing open, Other hinges there be creaking; There the doors thou canst not enter Like the daughters of Wainola, Canst not tend the fires and ovens As will please the minds of strangers.

"Didst thou think, my fairest maiden, Thou couldst wed and on the morrow Couldst return, if thou shouldst wish it, To thy father's court and dwelling? Not for one, nor two, nor three days, Wilt thou leave thy mother's chambers, Leave thy sisters and thy brothers, Leave thy father's hills and lowlands. Long the time the wife must wander, Many months and years must wander, Work, and struggle, all her life long, Even though the mother liveth.

Beneath the wintry sun, the Oaken trees of your forest

Great, indeed, must be the changes When thou comest back to Pohya, Changed, thy friends and nearest kindred, Changed, thy father's ancient dwellings, Changed, the valleys and the mountains, Other birds will sing thy praises!"

When the mother thus had spoken,
Then the daughter spake, departing:

"In my early days of childhood Often I intoned these measures: 'Art a virgin, yet no virgin, Guided by an aged mother, In a brother's fields and forests, In the mansion of a father! Only wilt become a virgin, Only when thou hast a suitor, Only when thou wedst a hero, One foot on the father's threshold, And the other for the snow-sledge That will speed thee and thy husband To his native vales and highlands!'

"I have wished thus many summers, Sang it often in my childhood, Hoped for this as for the flowers, Welcome as the birds of spring-time. Thus fulfilled are all my wishes, Very near is my departure, One foot on my father's threshold, And the, other for the journey With my husband to his people; Cannot understand the reason That has changed my former feelings, Cannot leave thee now with gladness, Cannot go with great rejoicing From my dear, old home and kindred, Where as maiden I have lingered, From the courts where I was nurtured, From my father's band and guidance, From my faithful mother's counsel. Now I go, a maid of sorrow, Heavy-hearted to the bridegroom, Like the bride of Night in winter, Like the ice upon the rivers.

"Such is not the mind of others, Other brides of Northland heroes; Others do not leave unhappy, Have no tears, nor cares, nor sorrows, I alas! must weep and murmur, Carry to my grave great sadness, Heart as dark as Death's black river. "Such the feelings of the happy, Such the minds of merry maidens: Like the early dawn of spring-time, Like the rising Sun in summer No such radiance awaits me, With my young heart filled with terror; Happiness is not my portion, Like the flat-shore of the ocean, Like the dark rift of the storm-cloud, Like the cheerless nights of winter! Dreary is the day in autumn, Dreary too the autumn evening, Still more dreary is my future!" An industrious old maiden, Ever guarding home and kindred, Spake these words of doubtful comfort:

"Dost thou, beauteous bride, remember, Canst thou not recall my counsels? These the words that I have taught thee: 'Look not joyfully for suitors, Never heed the tongues of wooers, Look not in the eyes of charmers, At their feet let fall thy vision. He that hath a mouth for sweetness, He that hath an eye for beauty, Offers little that will comfort; Lempo sits upon his forehead, In his mouth dwells dire Tuoni.'

"Thus, fair bride, did I advise thee, Thus advised my sister's daughter: Should there come the best of suitors, Noblest wooers, proudest lovers, Give to all these wisdom-sayings, Let thine answer be as follows: 'Never will I think it wisdom, Never will it be my pleasure, To become a second daughter, Linger with my husband's mother; Never shall I leave my father, Never wander forth to bondage, At the bidding of a bridegroom: Never shall I be a servant, Wife and slave to any hero, Never will I be submissive To the orders of a husband.'

"Fairest bride, thou didst not heed me, Gav'st no thought to my advices, Didst not listen to my counsel; Wittingly thy feet have wandered Into boiling tar and water, Hastened to thy suitor's snow-sledge, To the bear-dens of thy husband, On his sledge to be ill-treated, Carried to his native country, To the bondage of his people, There, a subject to his mother. Thou hast left thy mother's dwelling, To the schooling of the master; Hard indeed the master's teachings, Little else than constant torture; Ready for thee are his bridles, Ready for thy bands the shackles, Were not forged for any other; Soon, indeed, thou'lt feel the hardness, Feel the weight of thy misfortune, Feel thy second father's censure, And his wife's inhuman treatment, Hear the cold words or thy brother, Quail before thy haughty sister.

"Listen, bride, to what I tell thee: In thy home thou wert a jewel, Wert thy father's pride and pleasure, 'Moonlight,' did thy father call thee, And thy mother called thee 'Sunshine,' 'Sea-foam' did thy brother call thee, And thy sister called thee 'Flower.' When thou leavest home and kindred Goest to a second mother, Often she will give thee censure, Never treat thee as her daughter, Rarely will she give thee counsel, Never will she sound thy praises. 'Brush-wood,' will the father call thee, 'Sledge of Rags,' thy husband's mother, 'Flight of Stairs,' thy stranger brother, 'Scare-crow,' will the sister call thee, Sister of thy blacksmith-husband; Then wilt think of my good counsels, Then wilt wish in tears and murmurs, That as steam thou hadst ascended, That as smoke thy soul had risen, That as sparks thy life had vanished. As a bird thou canst not wander From thy nest to circle homeward, Canst not fall and die like leaflets, As the sparks thou canst not perish, Like the smoke thou canst not vanish.

"Youthful bride, and darling sister, Thou hast bartered all thy friendships, Hast exchanged thy loving father, Thou hast left thy faithful mother For the mother of thy husband; Hast exchanged thy loving brother, Hast renounced thy gentle sister, For the kindred of thy suitor; Hast exchanged thy snow-white covers For the rocky couch of sorrow; Hast exchanged these crystal waters For the waters of Wainola; Hast renounced these sandy sea-shores For the muddy banks of Kalew; Northland glens thou hast forsaken For thy husband's barren meadows; Thou hast left thy berry-mountains For the stubble-fields and deserts.

"Thou, O maiden, hast been thinking Thou wouldst happy be in wedlock; Neither work, nor care, nor sorrow, From this night would be thy portion, With thy husband for protection. Not to sleep art thou conducted, Not to happiness, nor joyance, Wakefulness, thy night-companion, And thy day-attendant, trouble; Often thou wilt drink of sorrow, Often long for vanished pleasures.

"When at home thou hadst no head-gear, Thou hadst also little sadness; When thy couch was not of linen, No unhappiness came nigh thee; Head-gear brings but pain and sorrow, Linen breeds bad dispositions, Linen brings but deeps of anguish, And the flax untimely mourning. "Happy in her home, the maiden, Happy at her father's fireside, Like the master in his mansion, Happy with her bows and arrows. 'Tis not thus with married women; Brides of heroes may be likened To the prisoners of Moskva, Held in bondage by their masters.

"As a wife, must weep and labor, Carry trouble on both shoulders; When the next hour passes over, Thou must tend the fire and oven, Must prepare thy husband's dinner, Must direct thy master's servants. When thine evening meal is ready, Thou must search for bidden wisdom In the brain of perch and salmon, In the mouths of ocean whiting, Gather wisdom from the cuckoo, Canst not learn it from thy mother, Mother dear of seven daughters; Cannot find among her treasures Where were born the human instincts, Where were born the minds of heroes, Whence arose the maiden's beauty, Whence the beauty of her tresses, Why all life revives in spring-time.

"Weep, O weep, my pretty young bride. When thou weepest, weep sincerely, Weep great rivers from thine eyelids, Floods of tears in field and fallow, Lakelets in thy father's dwelling; Weep thy rooms to overflowing, Shed thy tears in great abundance, Lest thou weepest on returning To thy native hills and valleys, When thou visitest thy father In the smoke of waning glory, On his arm a withered tassel.

"Weep, O weep, my lovely maiden, When thou weepest, weep in earnest, Weep great rivers from thine eyelids; If thou dost not weep sincerely, Thou wilt weep on thy returning To thy Northland home and kindred, When thou visitest thy mother Old and breathless near the hurdles, In her arms a barley-bundle.

"Weep, O weep, sweet bride of beauty, When thou weepest, weep profusely; If thou dost not weep in earnest, Thou wilt weep on thy returning To thy native vales and highlands, When thou visitest thy brother Lying wounded by the way-side, In his hand but empty honors.

"Weep, O weep, my sister's daughter, Weep great rivers from thine eyelids; If thou dost not weep sufficient, Thou wilt weep on thy returning To the scenes of happy childhood, When thou visitest thy sister Lying, prostrate in the meadow, In her hand a birch-wood mallet." When the ancient maid had ended, Then the young bride sighed in anguish, Straightway fell to bitter weeping, Spake these words in deeps of sorrow:

"O, ye sisters, my beloved, Ye companions of my childhood, Playmates of my early summers, Listen to your sister's counsel: Cannot comprehend the reason, Why my mind is so dejected, Why this weariness and sadness, This untold and unseen torture, Cannot understand the meaning Of this mighty weight of sorrow! Differently I had thought it, I had hoped for greater pleasures, I had hoped to sing as cuckoos, On the hill-tops call and echo, When I had attained this station, Reached at last the goal expectant; But I am not like the cuckoo, Singing, merry on the hill-tops; I am like the songless blue-duck, As she swims upon the waters, Swims upon the cold, cold ocean, Icicles upon her pinions.

"Ancient father, gray-haired mother, Whither do ye wish to lead me, Whither take this bride, thy daughter, That this sorrow may pass over, Where this heavy heart may lighten, Where this grief may turn to gladness? Better it had been, O mother, Hadst thou nursed a block of birch-wood, Hadst thou clothed the colored sandstone, Rather than this hapless maiden, For the fulness of these sorrows, For this keen and killing trouble. Many sympathizers tell me: 'Foolish bride, thou art ungrateful, Do not grieve, thou child of sorrow, Thou hast little cause for weeping.'

"O, deceive me not, my people, Do not argue with me falsely, For alas! I have more troubles Than the waterfalls have pebbles, Than the Ingerland has willows, Than the Suomi-hills have berries; Never could the Pohya plow-horse Pull this mighty weight of sorrow, Shaking not his birchen cross-bar, Breaking not his heavy collar; Never could the Northland reindeer Heavy shod and stoutly harnessed, Draw this load of care and trouble." By the stove a babe was playing, And the young child spake as follows:

"Why, O fair bride, art thou weeping, Why these tears of pain and sadness? Leave thy troubles to the elk-herds, And thy grief to sable fillies, Let the steeds of iron bridles Bear the burden of thine anguish, Horses have much larger foreheads, Larger shoulders, stronger sinews, And their necks are made for labor, Stronger are their bones and muscles, Let them bear thy heavy burdens. There is little good in weeping, Useless are thy tears of sorrow; Art not led to swamps and lowlands, Nor to banks of little rivers; Thou art led to fields of flowers, Led to fruitful trees and forests, Led away from beer of Pohya To the sweeter mead of Kalew. At thy shoulder waits thy husband, On thy right side, Ilmarinen, Constant friend and life-protector, He will guard thee from all evil; Husband ready, steed in waiting, Gold-and-silver-mounted harness, Hazel-birds that sing and flutter On the courser's yoke and cross-bar; Thrushes also sing and twitter Merrily on hame and collar, Seven bluebirds, seven cuckoos, Sing thy wedding-march in concord.

"Be no longer full of sorrow, Dry thy tears, thou bride of beauty, Thou hast found a noble husband, Better wilt thou fare than ever, By the side of Ilmarinen, Artist husband, metal-master, Bread-provider of thy table, On the arm of the fish-catcher, On the breast of the elk-hunter, By the side of the bear-killer. Thou hast won the best of suitors, Hast obtained a mighty hero; Never idle is his cross-bow, On the nails his quivers hang not, Neither are his dogs in kennel, Active agents is his bunting. Thrice within the budding spring-time In the early hours of morning He arises from his fare-couch, From his slumber in the brush-wood, Thrice within the sowing season, On his eyes the deer has fallen, And the branches brushed his vesture, And his locks been combed by fir-boughs. Hasten homeward with thy husband, Where thy hero's friends await thee, Where his forests sing thy welcome.

"Ilmarinen there possesses All the birds that fly in mid-air, All the beasts that haunt the woodlands, All that feed upon the mountains, All that graze on hill and valley, Sheep and cattle by the thousands; Sweet the grass upon his meadows, Sweet the barley in his uplands, In the lowlands corn abundant, Wheat upon the elm-wood fallows, Near the streamlets rye is waving, Waving grain on many acres, On his mountains gold and silver, Rich his mines of shining copper, Highlands filled with magic metals, Chests of jewels in his store-house, All the wealth of Kalevala."

In this river



Now the bride must be instructed, Who will teach the Maid of Beauty, Who instruct the Rainbow-daughter? Osmotar, the wisdom-maiden, Kalew's fair and lovely virgin, Osmotar will give instructions To the bride of Ilmarinen, To the orphaned bride of Pohya, Teach her how to live in pleasure, How to live and reign in glory, Win her second mother's praises, Joyful in her husband's dwelling. Osmotar in modest accents Thus the anxious bride addresses;

"Maid of Beauty, lovely sister, Tender plant of Louhi's gardens, Hear thou what thy sister teaches, Listen to her sage instructions: Go thou hence, my much beloved, Wander far away, my flower, Travel on enwrapped in colors, Glide away in silks and ribbons, From this house renowned and ancient, From thy father's halls and court-yards Haste thee to thy husband's village, Hasten to his mother's household; Strange, the rooms in other dwellings, Strange, the modes in other hamlets.

"Full of thought must be thy going, And thy work be well considered, Quite unlike thy home in Northland, On the meadows of thy father, On the high-lands of thy brother, Singing through thy mother's fenlands, Culling daisies with thy sister. "When thou goest from thy father Thou canst take whatever pleases, Only three things leave behind thee: Leave thy day-dreams to thy sister, Leave thou kindness for thy mother, To thy brother leave thy labors, Take all else that thou desirest. Throw away thine incantations, Cast thy sighing to the pine-trees, And thy maidenhood to zephyrs, Thy rejoicings to the couches, Cast thy trinkets to the children, And thy leisure to the gray-beards, Cast all pleasures to thy playmates, Let them take them to the woodlands, Bury them beneath the mountain. "Thou must hence acquire new habits, Must forget thy former customs, Mother-love must be forsaken, Thou must love thy husband's mother, Lower must thy head be bended, Kind words only must thou utter. "Thou must hence acquire new habits, Must forget thy former customs, Father-love must be forsaken, Thou must love thy husband's father, Lower must thy head be bended, Kind words only must thou utter. "Thou must hence acquire new habits, Must forget thy former customs, Brother-love must be forsaken, Thou must love thy husband's brother, Lower must thy head be bended, Kind words only must thou utter.

"Thou must hence acquire new habits Must forget thy former customs, Sister-love must be forsaken, Thou must love thy husband's sister, Lower must thy head be bended, Kind words only must thou utter. "Never in the course of ages, Never while the moonlight glimmers, Wickedly approach thy household, Nor unworthily, thy servants, Nor thy courts with indiscretion; Let thy dwellings sing good manners, And thy walls re-echo virtue. After mind the hero searches. And the best of men seek honor, Seek for honesty and wisdom; If thy home should be immoral, If thine inmates fail in virtue, Then thy gray-beards would be black-dogs In sheep's clothing at thy firesides; All thy women would be witches, Wicked witches in thy chambers, And thy brothers be as serpents Crawling through thy husband's mansion; All thy sisters would be famous For their evil thoughts and conduct.

"Equal honors must be given To thy husband's friends and kindred; Lower must thy head be bended, Than within thy mother's dwelling, Than within thy father's guest-room, When thou didst thy kindred honor.

Oh, they came with the morning mist over the waters - Photography by Mike Koontz

Ever strive to give good counsel, Wear a countenance of sunshine, Bear a head upon thy shoulders Filled with wise and ancient sayings; Open bright thine eyes at morning To behold the silver sunrise, Sharpen well thine ears at evening, Thus to hear the rooster crowing; When he makes his second calling, Straightway thou must rise from slumber, Let the aged sleep in quiet; Should the rooster fail to call thee, Let the moonbeams touch thine eyelids, Let the Great Bear be thy keeper Often go thou and consult them, Call upon the Moon for counsel, Ask the Bear for ancient wisdom, From the stars divine thy future; When the Great Bear faces southward, When his tail is pointing northward, This is time to break with slumber, Seek for fire within the ashes, Place a spark upon the tinder, Blow the fire through all the fuel. If no spark is in the ashes, Then go wake thy hero-husband, Speak these words to him on waking: 'Give me fire, O my beloved, Give a single spark, my husband, Strike a little fire from flintstone, Let it fall upon my tinder.'

"From the spark, O Bride of Beauty, Light thy fires, and heat thine ovens, In the holder, place the torch-light, Find thy pathway to the stables, There to fill the empty mangers; If thy husband's cows be lowing, If thy brother's steeds be neighing, Then the cows await thy coming, And the steeds for thee are calling, Hasten, stooping through the hurdles, Hasten through the yards and stables, Feed thy husband's cows with pleasure, Feed with care the gentle lambkins, Give the cows the best of clover, Hay, and barley, to the horses, Feed the calves of lowing mothers, Feed the fowl that fly to meet thee.

"Never rest upon the haymow, Never sleep within the hurdles, When the kine are fed and tended, When the flocks have all been watered; Hasten thence, my pretty matron, Like the snow-flakes to thy dwelling, There a crying babe awaits thee, Weeping in his couch neglected, Cannot speak and tell his troubles, Speechless babe, and weeping infant, Cannot say that he is hungry, Whether pain or cold distresses, Greets with joy his mother's footsteps. Afterward repair in silence To thy husband's rooms and presence, Early visit thou his chambers, In thy hand a golden pitcher, On thine arm a broom of birch-wood, In thy teeth a lighted taper, And thyself the fourth in order. Sweep thou then thy hero's dwelling, Dust his benches and his tables, Wash the flooring well with water.

"If the baby of thy sister Play alone within his corner, Show the little child attention, Bathe his eyes and smoothe his ringlets, Give the infant needed comforts; Shouldst thou have no bread of barley, In his hand adjust some trinket.

"Lastly, when the week has ended, Give thy house a thorough cleansing, Benches, tables, walls, and ceilings; What of dust is on the windows, Sweep away with broom of birch-twigs, All thy rooms must first be sprinkled, at the dust may not be scattered, May not fill the halls and chambers. Sweep the dust from every crevice, Leave thou not a single atom; Also sweep the chimney-corners, Do not then forget the rafters, Lest thy home should seem untidy, Lest thy dwelling seem neglected. "Hear, O maiden, what I tell thee, Learn the tenor of my teaching: Never dress in scanty raiment, Let thy robes be plain and comely, Ever wear the whitest linen, On thy feet wear tidy fur-shoes, For the glory of thy husband, For the honor of thy hero. Tend thou well the sacred sorb-tree, Guard the mountain-ashes planted In the court-yard, widely branching; Beautiful the mountain-ashes, Beautiful their leaves and flowers, Still more beautiful the berries. Thus the exiled one demonstrates That she lives to please her husband, Tries to make her hero happy. "Like the mouse, have ears for hearing, Like the hare, have feet for running, Bend thy neck and turn thy visage Like the juniper and aspen, Thus to watch with care thy goings, Thus to guard thy feet from stumbling, That thou mayest walk in safety. "When thy brother comes from plowing, And thy father from his garners, And thy husband from the woodlands, From his chopping, thy beloved, Give to each a water-basin, Give to each a linen-towel, Speak to each some pleasant greeting. "When thy second mother hastens To thy husband's home and kindred, In her hand a corn-meal measure, Haste thou to the court to meet her, Happy-hearted, bow before her, Take the measure from her fingers, Happy, bear it to thy husband.

"If thou shouldst not see distinctly What demands thy next attention, Ask at once thy hero's mother: 'Second mother, my beloved, Name the task to be accomplished By thy willing second daughter, Tell me how to best perform it.' "This should be the mother's answer: 'This the manner of thy workings, Thus thy daily work accomplish: Stamp with diligence and courage, Grind with will and great endurance, Set the millstones well in order, Fill the barley-pans with water, Knead with strength the dough for baking, Place the fagots on the fire-place, That thy ovens may be heated, Bake in love the honey-biscuit, Bake the larger loaves of barley, Rinse to cleanliness thy platters, Polish well thy drinking-vessels. "If thou hearest from the mother, From the mother of thy husband, That the cask for meal is empty, Take the barley from the garners, Hasten to the rooms for grinding. When thou grindest in the chambers, Do not sing in glee and joyance, Turn the grinding-stones in silence, To the mill give up thy singing, Let the side-holes furnish music; Do not sigh as if unhappy, Do not groan as if in trouble, Lest the father think thee weary, Lest thy husband's mother fancy That thy groans mean discontentment, That thy sighing means displeasure. Quickly sift the flour thou grindest, Take it to the casks in buckets, Bake thy hero's bread with pleasure, Knead the dough with care and patience, That thy biscuits may be worthy, That the dough be light and airy.

"Shouldst thou see a bucket empty, Take the bucket on thy shoulder, On thine arm a silver-dipper, Hasten off to fill with water From the crystal river flowing; Gracefully thy bucket carry, Bear it firmly by the handles, Hasten houseward like the zephyrs, Hasten like the air of autumn; Do not tarry near the streamlet, At the waters do not linger, That the father may not fancy, Nor the ancient dame imagine, That thou hast beheld thine image, Hast admired thy form and features, Hast admired thy grace and beauty In the mirror of the fountain, In the crystal streamlet's eddies.

"Shouldst thou journey to the woodlands, There to gather aspen-fagots, Do not go with noise and bustle, Gather all thy sticks in silence, Gather quietly the birch-wood, That the father may not fancy, And the mother not imagine, That thy calling came from anger, And thy noise from discontentment. "If thou goest to the store-house To obtain the flour of barley, Do not tarry on thy journey, On the threshold do not linger, That the father may not fancy, And the mother not imagine, That the meal thou hast divided With the women of the village. "If thou goest to the river, There to wash thy birchen platters, There to cleanse thy pans and buckets, Lest thy work be done in neatness, Rinse the sides, and rinse the handles, Rinse thy pitchers to perfection, Spoons, and forks, and knives, and goblets, Rinse with care thy cooking-vessels, Closely watch the food-utensils, That the dogs may not deface them, That the kittens may not mar them, That the eagles may not steal them, That the children may not break them; Many children in the village, Many little heads and fingers, That will need thy careful watching, Lest they steal the things of value.

"When thou goest to thy bathing, Have the brushes ready lying In the bath-room clean and smokeless; Do not, linger in the water, At thy bathing do not tarry, That the father may not fancy, And the mother not imagine, Thou art sleeping on the benches, Rolling in the laps of comfort. "From thy bath, when thou returnest, To his bathing tempt the father, Speak to him the words that follow: 'Father of my hero-husband, Clean are all the bath-room benches, Everything in perfect order; Go and bathe for thine enjoyment, Pour the water all-sufficient, I will lend thee needed service.' "When the time has come for spinning, When the hours arrive for weaving, Do not ask the help of others, Look not in the stream for knowledge, For advice ask not the servants, Nor the spindle from the sisters, Nor the weaving-comb from strangers. Thou thyself must do the spinning, With thine own hand ply the shuttle, Loosely wind the skeins of wool-yarn, Tightly wind the balls of flax-thread, Wind them deftly in the shuttle Fit the warp upon the rollers, Beat the woof and warp together, Swiftly ply the weaver's shuttle, Weave good cloth for all thy vestments, Weave of woolen, webs for dresses From the finest wool of lambkins, One thread only in thy weaving.

"Hear thou what I now advise thee: Brew thy beer from early barley, From the barley's new-grown kernels, Brew it with the magic virtues, Malt it with the sweets of honey, Do not stir it with the birch-rod, Stir it with thy skilful fingers; When thou goest to the garners, Do not let the seed bring evil, Keep the dogs outside the brew-house, Have no fear of wolves in hunger, Nor the wild-beasts of the mountains, When thou goest to thy brewing, Shouldst thou wander forth at midnight.

"Should some stranger come to see thee, Do not worry for his comfort; Ever does the worthy household Have provisions for the stranger, Bits of meat, and bread, and biscuit, Ample for the dinner-table; Seat the stranger in thy dwelling, Speak with him in friendly accents, Entertain the guest with kindness, While his dinner is preparing. When the stranger leaves thy threshold, When his farewell has been spoken, Lead him only to the portals, Do not step without the doorway, That thy husband may not fancy, And the mother not imagine, Thou hast interest in strangers. "Shouldst thou ever make a journey To the centre of the village, There to gain some needed object, While thou speakest in the hamlet, Let thy words be full of wisdom, That thou shamest not thy kindred, Nor disgrace thy husband's household. "Village-maidens oft will ask thee, Mothers of the hamlet question: 'Does thy husband's mother greet thee As in childhood thou wert greeted, In thy happy home in Pohya?' Do not answer in negation, Say that she has always given Thee the best of her provisions, Given thee the kindest greetings, Though it be but once a season. "Listen well to what I tell thee: As thou goest from thy father To thy husband's distant dwelling, Thou must not forget thy mother, Her that gave thee life and beauty, Her that nurtured thee in childhood, Many sleepless nights she nursed thee; Often were her wants neglected, Numberless the times she rocked thee; Tender, true, and ever faithful, Is the mother to her daughter. She that can forget her mother, Can neglect the one that nursed her, Should not visit Mana's castle, In the kingdom of Tuoni; In Manala she would suffer, Suffer frightful retribution, Should her mother be forgotten; Should her dear one be neglected, Mana's daughters will torment her, And Tuoni's sons revile her, They will ask her much as follows: 'How couldst thou forget thy mother, How neglect the one that nursed thee? Great the pain thy mother suffered, Great the trouble that thou gavest When thy loving mother brought thee Into life for good or evil, When she gave thee earth-existence, When she nursed thee but an infant, When she fed thee in thy childhood, When she taught thee what thou knowest, Mana's punishments upon thee, Since thy mother is forgotten!'" On the floor a witch was sitting, Near the fire a beggar-woman, One that knew the ways of people, These the words the woman uttered:

the crow calls in the winter

"Thus the crow calls in the winter: 'Would that I could be a singer, And my voice be full of sweetness, But, alas! my songs are worthless, Cannot charm the weakest creature; I must live without the singing Leave the songs to the musicians, Those that live in golden houses, In the homes of the beloved; Homeless therefore I must wander, Like a beggar in the corn-fields, And with none to do me honor.'

"Hear now, sister, what I tell thee, Enter thou thy husband's dwelling, Follow not his mind, nor fancies, As my husband's mind I followed; As a flower was I when budding, Sprouting like a rose in spring-time, Growing like a slender maiden, Like the honey-gem of glory, Like the playmates of my childhood, Like the goslings of my father, Like the blue-ducks of my mother, Like my brother's water-younglings, Like the bullfinch of my sister; Grew I like the heather-flower, Like the berry of the meadow, Played upon the sandy sea-shore, Rocked upon the fragrant upland, Sang all day adown the valley, Thrilled with song the hill and mountain, Filled with mirth the glen and forest, Lived and frolicked in the woodlands.

"Into traps are foxes driven By the cruel pangs of hunger, Into traps, the cunning ermine; Thus are maidens wooed and wedded, In their hunger for a husband. Thus created is the virgin, Thus intended is the daughter, Subject to her hero-husband, Subject also to his mother. "Then to other fields I hastened, Like a berry from the border, Like a cranberry for roasting, Like a strawberry for dinner; All the elm-trees seemed to wound me, All the aspens tried to cut me, All the willows tried to seize me, All the forest tried to slay me. Thus I journeyed to my husband, Thus I travelled to his dwelling, Was conducted to his mother. Then there were, as was reported, Six compartments built of pine-wood, Twelve the number of the chambers, And the mansion filled with garrets, Studding all the forest border, Every by-way filled with flowers Streamlets bordered fields of barley, Filled with wheat and corn, the islands, Grain in plenty in the garners, Rye unthrashed in great abundance, Countless sums of gold and silver, Other treasures without number. When my journey I had ended, When my hand at last was given, Six supports were in his cabin, Seven poles as rails for fencing. Filled with anger were the bushes, All the glens disfavor showing, All the walks were lined with trouble, Evil-tempered were the forests, Hundred words of evil import, Hundred others of unkindness. Did not let this bring me sorrow, Long I sought to merit praises, Long I hoped to find some favor, Strove most earnestly for kindness; When they led me to the cottage, There I tried some chips to gather, Knocked my head against the portals Of my husband's lowly dwelling.

"At the door were eyes of strangers, Sable eyes at the partition, Green with envy in his cabin, Evil heroes in the back-ground, From each mouth the fire was streaming, From each tongue the sparks out-flying, Flying from my second father, From his eyeballs of unkindness. Did not let this bring me trouble, Tried to live in peace and pleasure, In the homestead of my husband In humility I suffered, Skipped about with feet of rabbit, Flew along with steps of ermine, Late I laid my head to slumber, Early rose as if a servant, Could not win a touch of kindness, Could not merit love nor honor, Though I had dislodged the mountains, Though the rocks had I torn open. "Then I turned the heavy millstone, Ground the flour with care and trouble, Ground the barley-grains in patience, That the mother might be nourished, That her fury-throat might swallow What might please her taste and fancy,. From her gold-enamelled platters, From the corner of her table. "As for me, the hapless daughter, All my flour was from the siftings On the table near the oven, Ate I from the birchen ladle; Oftentimes I brought the mosses Gathered in the lowland meadows, Baked them into loaves for eating; Brought the water from the river, Thirsty, sipped it from the dipper, Ate of fish the worst in Northland, Only smelts, and worthless swimmers, Rocking in my boat of birch-bark Never ate I fish or biscuit From my second mother's fingers. "Blades I gathered in the summers, Twisted barley-stalks in winter, Like the laborers of heroes, Like the servants sold in bondage. In the thresh-house of my husband, Evermore to me was given Flail the heaviest and longest, And to me the longest lever, On the shore the strongest beater, And the largest rake in haying; No one thought my burden heavy, No one thought that I could suffer, Though the best of heroes faltered, And the strongest women weakened.

"Thus did I, a youthful housewife, At the right time, all my duties, Drenched myself in perspiration, Hoped for better times to follow; But I only rose to labor, Knowing neither rest nor pleasure. I was blamed by all the household, With ungrateful tongues derided, Now about my awkward manners, Now about my reputation, Censuring my name and station. Words unkind were heaped upon me, Fell like hail on me unhappy, Like the frightful flash of lightning, Like the heavy hail of spring-time. I did not despair entirely, Would have lived to labor longer Underneath the tongue of malice, But the old-one spoiled Lay temper, Roused my deepest ire and hatred Then my husband grew a wild-bear, Grew a savage wolf of Hisi. "Only then I turned to weeping, And reflected in my chamber, Thought of all my former pleasures Of the happy days of childhood, Of my father's joyful firesides, Of my mother's peaceful cottage, Then began I thus to murmur: 'Well thou knowest, ancient mother, How to make thy sweet bud blossom, How to train thy tender shootlet; Did not know where to ingraft it, Placed, alas! the little scion In the very worst of places, On an unproductive hillock, In the hardest limb of cherry, Where it could not grow and flourish, There to waste its life, in weeping, Hapless in her lasting sorrow. Worthier had been my conduct In the regions that are better, In the court-yards that are wider, In compartments that are larger, Living with a loving husband, Living with a stronger hero. Shoe of birch-bark was my suitor, Shoe of Laplanders, my husband; Had the body of a raven, Voice and visage like the jackdaw, Mouth and claws were from the black-wolf, The remainder from the wild-bear. Had I known that mine affianced Was a fount of pain and evil, To the hill-side I had wandered, Been a pine-tree on the highway, Been a linden on the border, Like the black-earth made my visage, Grown a beard of ugly bristles, Head of loam and eyes of lightning, For my ears the knots of birches, For my limbs the trunks of aspens.' "This the manner of my singing In the hearing of my husband, Thus I sang my cares and murmurs Thus my hero near the portals Heard the wail of my displeasure, Then he hastened to my chamber; Straightway knew I by his footsteps, Well concluded be was angry, 'Knew it by his steps implanted; All the winds were still in slumber, Yet his sable locks stood endwise, Fluttered round his bead in fury, While his horrid mouth stood open; To and fro his eyes were rolling, In one hand a branch of willow, In the other, club of alder; Struck at me with might of malice, Aimed the cudgel at my forehead.

"When the evening had descended, When my husband thought of slumber Took he in his hand a whip-stalk, With a whip-lash made of deer-skin, Was not made for any other, Only made for me unhappy. "When at last I begged for mercy, When I sought a place for resting, By his side I courted slumber, Merciless, my husband seized me, Struck me with his arm of envy, Beat me with the whip of torture, Deer-skin-lash and stalk of birch-wood. From his couch I leaped impulsive, In the coldest night of winter, But the husband fleetly followed, Caught me at the outer portals, Grasped me by my streaming tresses, Tore my ringlets from my forehead, Cast in curls upon the night-winds To the freezing winds of winter. What the aid that I could ask for, Who could free me from my torment? Made I shoes of magic metals, Made the straps of steel and copper, Waited long without the dwelling, Long I listened at the portals, Hoping he would end his ravings, Hoping he would sink to slumber, But he did not seek for resting, Did not wish to still his fury. Finally the cold benumbed me; As an outcast from his cabin, I was forced to walk and wander, When I, freezing, well reflected, This the substance of my thinking: 'I will not endure this torture, Will not bear this thing forever, Will not bear this cruel treatment, Such contempt I will not suffer In the wicked tribe of Hisi, In this nest of evil Piru.' "Then I said, 'Farewell forever!' To my husband's home and kindred, To my much-loved home and husband; Started forth upon a journey To my father's distant hamlet, Over swamps and over snow-fields, Wandered over towering mountains, Over hills and through the valleys, To my brother's welcome meadows, To my sister's home and birthplace.

"There were rustling withered pine-trees. Finely-feathered firs were fading, Countless ravens there were cawing, All the jackdaws harshly singing, This the chorus of the ravens: 'Thou hast here a home no longer, This is not the happy homestead Of thy merry days of childhood.' "Heeding not this woodland chorus, Straight I journeyed to the dwelling Of my childhood's friend and brother, Where the portals spake in concord, And the hills and valleys answered, This their saddened song and echo: 'Wherefore dost thou journey hither, Comest thou for joy or sorrow, To thy father's old dominions? Here unhappiness awaits thee, Long departed is thy father, Dead and gone to visit Ukko, Dead and gone thy faithful mother, And thy brother is a stranger, While his wife is chill and heartless!'

"Heeding not these many warnings, Straightway to my brother's cottage Were my weary feet directed, Laid my hand upon the door-latch Of my brother's dismal cottage, But the latch was cold and lifeless. When I wandered to the chamber, When I waited at the doorway, There I saw the heartless hostess, But she did not give me greeting, Did not give her hand in welcome; Proud, alas! was I unhappy, Did not make the first advances, Did not offer her my friendship, And my hand I did not proffer; Laid my hand upon the oven, All its former warmth departed! On the coal I laid my fingers, All the latent heat had left it. On the rest-bench lay my brother, Lay outstretched before the fire-place, Heaps of soot upon his shoulders, Heaps of ashes on his forehead. Thus the brother asked the stranger, Questioned thus his guest politely: 'Tell me what thy name and station, Whence thou comest o'er the waters!' This the answer that I gave him: Hast thou then forgot thy sister, Does my brother not remember, Not recall his mother's daughter We are children of one mother, Of one bird were we the fledgelings, In one nest were hatched and nurtured.' "Then the brother fell to weeping, From his eyes great tear-drops flowing, To his wife the brother whispered, Whispered thus unto the housewife. 'Bring thou beer to give my sister, Quench her thirst and cheer her spirits.' "Full of envy, brought the sister Only water filled with evil, Water for the infant's eyelids, Soap and water from the bath-room. "To his wife the brother whispered, Whispered thus unto the housewife: 'Bring thou salmon for my sister, For my sister so long absent, Thus to still her pangs of hunger.' "Thereupon the wife obeying, Brought, in envy, only cabbage That the children had been eating, And the house-dogs had been licking, Leavings of the black-dog's breakfast. "Then I left my brother's dwelling, Hastened to the ancient homestead, To my mother's home deserted; Onward, onward did I wander, Hastened onward by the cold-sea, Dragged my body on in anguish, To the cottage-doors of strangers, To the unfamiliar portals, For the care of the neglected, For the needy of the village, For the children poor and orphaned.

"There are many wicked people, Many slanderers of women, Many women evil-minded, That malign their sex through envy. Many they with lips of evil, That belie the best of maidens, Prove the innocent are guilty Of the worst of misdemeanors, Speak aloud in tones unceasing, Speak, alas! with wicked motives, Spread the follies of their neighbors Through the tongues of self-pollution. Very few, indeed, the people That will feed the poor and hungry, That will bid the stranger welcome; Very few to treat her kindly, Innocent, and lone, and needy, Few to offer her a shelter From the chilling storms of winter, When her skirts with ice are stiffened, Coats of ice her only raiment! "Never in my days of childhood, Never in my maiden life-time, Never would believe the story Though a hundred tongues had told Though a thousand voices sang it, That such evil things could happen, That such misery could follow, Such misfortune could befall one Who has tried to do her duty, Who has tried to live uprightly, Tried to make her people happy." Thus the young bride was instructed, Beauteous Maiden of the Rainbow, Thus by Osmotar, the teacher.

Here me roar

[for I


one day Fall]

Osmotar, the bride-instructor, Gives the wedding-guests this counsel, Speaks these measures to the bridegroom: "Ilmarinen, artist-brother, Best of all my hero-brothers, Of my mother's sons the dearest, Gentlest, truest, bravest, grandest, Listen well to what I tell thee Of the Maiden of the Rainbow, Of thy beauteous life-companion Bridegroom, praise thy fate hereafter, Praise forever thy good fortune; If thou praisest, praise sincerely, Good the maiden thou hast wedded, Good the bride that Ukko gives thee, Graciously has God bestowed her. Sound her praises to thy father, Praise her virtues to thy mother, Let thy heart rejoice in secret, That thou hast the Bride of Beauty, Lovely Maiden of the Rainbow! "Brilliant near thee stands the maiden, At thy shoulder thy companion, Happy under thy protection, Beautiful as golden moonlight, Beautiful upon thy bosom, Strong to do thy kindly bidding, Labor with thee as thou wishest, Rake the hay upon thy meadows, Keep thy home in full perfection, Spin for thee the finest linen, Weave for thee the richest fabrics, Make for thee the softest raiment, Make thy weaver's loom as merry As the cuckoo of the forest; Make the shuttle glide in beauty Like the ermine of the woodlands; Make the spindle twirl as deftly As the squirrel spins the acorn; Village-maidens will not slumber While thy young bride's loom is humming, While she plies the graceful shuttle. "Bridegroom of the Bride of Beauty, Noblest of the Northland heroes, Forge thyself a scythe for mowing, Furnish it with oaken handle, Carve it in thine ancient smithy, Hammer it upon thine anvil, Have it ready for the summer, For the merry days of sunshine; Take thy bride then to the lowlands, Mow the grass upon thy meadows, Rake the hay when it is ready, Make the reeds and grasses rustle, Toss the fragrant heads of clover, Make thy hay in Kalevala When the silver sun is shining. "When the time has come for weaving, To the loom attract the weaver, Give to her the spools and shuttles, Let the willing loom be worthy, Beautiful the frame and settle; Give to her what may be needed, That the weaver's song may echo, That the lathe may swing and rattle, Ma y be heard within the village, That the aged may remark it, And the village-maidens question: 'Who is she that now is weaving, What new power now plies the shuttle?' "Make this answer to the question: 'It is my beloved weaving, My young bride that plies the shuttle.'

"Shall the weaver's weft be loosened, Shall the young bride's loom be tightened? Do not let the weft be loosened, Nor the weaver's loom be tightened; Such the weaving of the daughters Of the Moon beyond the cloudlets; Such the spinning of the maidens Of the Sun in high Jumala, Of the daughters of the Great Bear, Of the daughters of the Evening. Bridegroom, thou beloved hero, Brave descendant of thy fathers, When thou goest on a journey, When thou drivest on the highway, Driving with the Rainbow-daughter, Fairest bride of Sariola, Do not lead her as a titmouse, As a cuckoo of the forest, Into unfrequented places, Into copses of the borders, Into brier-fields and brambles, Into unproductive marshes; Let her wander not, nor stumble On opposing rocks and rubbish. Never in her father's dwelling, Never in her mother's court-yard, Has she fallen into ditches, Stumbled hard against the fences, Run through brier-fields, nor brambles, Fallen over rocks, nor rubbish.

"Magic bridegroom of Wainola, Wise descendant of the heroes, Never let thy young wife suffer, Never let her be neglected, Never let her sit in darkness, Never leave her unattended. Never in her father's mansion, In the chambers of her mother, Has she sat alone in darkness, Has she suffered for attention; Sat she by the crystal window, Sat and rocked, in peace and plenty, Evenings for her father's pleasure, Mornings for her mother's sunshine. Never mayest thou, O bridegroom, Lead the Maiden of the Rainbow To the mortar filled with sea-grass, There to grind the bark for cooking, There to bake her bread from stubble, There to knead her dough from tan-bark Never in her father's dwelling, Never in her mother's mansion, Was she taken to the mortar, There to bake her bread from sea-grass. Thou shouldst lead the Bride of Beauty To the garner's rich abundance, There to draw the till of barley, Grind the flour and knead for baking, There to brew the beer for drinking, Wheaten flour for honey-biscuits.

"Hero-bridegroom of Wainola, Never cause thy Bride of Beauty To regret her day of marriage; Never make her shed a tear-drop, Never fill her cup with sorrow. Should there ever come an evening When thy wife shall feel unhappy, Put the harness on thy racer, Hitch the fleet-foot to the snow-sled; Take her to her father's dwelling, To the household of her mother; Never in thy hero-lifetime, Never while the moonbeams glimmer, Give thy fair spouse evil treatment, Never treat her as thy servant; Do not bar her from the cellar, Do not lock thy best provisions Never in her father's mansion, Never by her faithful mother Was she treated as a hireling.

before the wild and the snow, there is your autumn

Honored bridegroom of the Northland, Proud descendant of the fathers, If thou treatest well thy young wife, Worthily wilt thou be treated; When thou goest to her homestead, When thou visitest her father, Thou shalt meet a cordial welcome. "Censure not the Bride of Beauty, Never grieve thy Rainbow-maiden, Never say in tones reproachful, She was born in lowly station, That her father was unworthy; Honored are thy bride's relations, From an old-time tribe, her kindred; When of corn they sowed a measure, Each one's portion was a kernel; When they sowed a cask of flax-seed, Each received a thread of linen. Never, never, magic husband, Treat thy beauty-bride unkindly, Teach her not with lash of servants, Strike her not with thongs of leather; Never has she wept in anguish From the birch-whip of her mother. Stand before her like a rampart, Be to her a strong protection, Do not let thy mother chide her, Let thy father not upbraid her, Never let thy guests offend her; Should thy servants bring annoyance, They may need the master's censure; Do not harm the Bride of Beauty, Never injure her thou lovest; Three long years hast thou been wooing, Hoping every mouth to win her.

the bride of many heavens "Counsel with the bride of heaven, To thy young wife give instruction, Kindly teach thy bride in secret, In the long and dreary evenings, When thou sittest at the fireside; Teach one year, in words of kindness, Teach with eyes of love a second, In the third year teach with firmness. If she should not heed thy teaching, Should not hear thy kindly counsel After three long years of effort, Cut a reed upon the lowlands, Cut a nettle from the border, Teach thy wife with harder measures. In the fourth year, if she heed not, Threaten her with sterner treatment, With the stalks of rougher edges, Use not yet the thongs of leather, Do not touch her with the birch-whip. If she does not heed this warning, Should she pay thee no attention, Cut a rod upon the mountains, Or a willow in the valleys, Hide it underneath thy mantle, That the stranger may not see it, Show it to thy wife in secret, Shame her thus to do her duty, Strike not yet, though disobeying. Should she disregard this warning, Still refuse to heed thy wishes, Then instruct her with the willow, Use the birch-rod from the mountains In the closet of thy dwelling, In the attic of thy mansion; Strike, her not upon the common, Do not conquer her in public, Lest the villagers should see thee, Lest the neighbors hear her weeping, And the forests learn thy troubles. Touch thy wife upon the shoulders, Let her stiffened back be softened. Do not touch her on the forehead, Nor upon the ears, nor visage; If a ridge be on her forehead, Or a blue mark on her eyelids, Then her mother would perceive it, And her father would take notice, All the village-workmen see it, And the village-women ask her 'Hast thou been in heat of battle, Hast thou struggled in a conflict, Or perchance the wolves have torn thee, Or the forest-bears embraced thee, Or the black-wolf be thy husband, And the bear be thy protector?'" By the fire-place lay a gray-beard, On the hearth-stone lay a beggar, And the old man spake as follows:

"Never, never, hero-husband, Follow thou thy young wife's wishes, Follow not her inclinations, As, alas! I did, regretful; Bought my bride the bread of barley, Veal, and beer, and best of butter, Fish and fowl of all descriptions, Beer I bought, home-brewed and sparkling, Wheat from all the distant nations, All the dainties of the Northland; All of this was unavailing, Gave my wife no satisfaction, Often came she to my chamber, Tore my sable locks in frenzy, With a visage fierce and frightful, With her eyeballs flashing anger, Scolding on and scolding ever, Ever speaking words of evil, Using epithets the vilest, Thought me but a block for chopping. Then I sought for other measures, Used on her my last resources, Cut a birch-whip in the forest, And she spake in tones endearing; Cut a juniper or willow, And she called me 'hero-darling'; When with lash my wife I threatened, Hung she on my neck with kisses." Thus the bridegroom was instructed, Thus the last advices given. Then the Maiden of the Rainbow, Beauteous bride of Ilmarinen, Sighing heavily and moaning, Fell to weeping, heavy-hearted, Spake these words from depths of sorrow: "Near, indeed, the separation, Near, alas! the time for parting, Near the time for my departure; O the anguish of the parting, O the pain of separation, From these walls renowned and ancient, From this village of the Northland, From these scenes of peace and plenty, Where my faithful mother taught me, Where my father gave instruction To me in my happy childhood, When my years were few and tender! As a child I did not fancy, Never thought of separation From the confines of this cottage, From these dear old hills and mountains, But, alas! I now must journey, Since I now cannot escape it; Empty is the bowl of parting, All the farewell-beer is taken, And my husband's sledge is waiting, With the break-board looking southward, Looking from my father's dwelling.

"How shall I give compensation, How repay, on my departure, All the kindness of my mother, All the counsel of my father, All the friendship of my brother, All my sister's warm affection? Gratitude to thee, dear father, For my former-life and blessings, For the comforts of thy table, For the pleasures of my childhood! Gratitude to thee, dear mother, For thy tender care and guidance, For my birth and for my culture, Nurtured by thy purest life-blood! Gratitude to thee, dear brother, Gratitude to thee, sweet sister, To the servants of my childhood, To my many friends and playmates! "Never, never, aged father, Never, thou, beloved mother, Never, ye, my kindred spirits, Never harbor care, nor sorrow, Never fall to bitter weeping, Since thy child has gone to others, To the distant home of strangers, To the meadows of Wainola, From her father's fields and firesides. Shines the Sun of the Creator, Shines the golden Moon of Ukko, Glitter all the stars of heaven, In the firmament of ether, Full as bright on other homesteads; Not upon my father's uplands, Not upon my home in childhood, Shines the Star of Joyance only.

"Now the time has come for parting From my father's golden firesides, From my brother's welcome hearth-stone, From the chambers of my sister, From my mother's happy dwelling; Now I leave the swamps and lowlands, Leave the grassy vales and mountains, Leave the crystal lakes and rivers, Leave the shores and sandy shallows, Leave the white-capped surging billows, Where the maidens swim and linger, Where the mermaids sing and frolic; Leave the swamps to those that wander, Leave the corn-fields to the plowman, Leave the forests to the weary, Leave the heather to the rover, Leave the copses to the stranger, Leave the alleys to the beggar, Leave the court-yards to the rambler, Leave the portals to the servant, Leave the matting to the sweeper, Leave the highways to the roebuck, Leave the woodland-glens to lynxes, Leave the lowlands to the wild-geese, And the birch-tree to the cuckoo. Now I leave these friends of childhood, Journey southward with my husband, To the arms of Night and Winter, O'er the ice-grown seas of Northland. "Should I once again, returning, Pay a visit to my tribe-folk, Mother would not hear me calling, Father would not see me weeping, Calling at my mother's grave-stone, 'Weeping o'er my buried father, On their graves the fragrant flowers, Junipers and mournful willows, Verdure from my mother's tresses, From the gray-beard of my father. "Should I visit Sariola, Visit once again these borders, No one here would bid me welcome. Nothing in these hills would greet me, Save perchance a few things only, By the fence a clump of osiers, And a land-mark at the corner, Which in early youth I planted, When a child of little stature.

"Mother's kine perhaps will know me, Which so often I have watered, Which I oft have fed and tended, Lowing now at my departure, In the pasture cold and cheerless; Sure my mother's kine will welcome Northland's daughter home returning. Father's steeds may not forget me, Steeds that I have often ridden, When a maiden free and happy, Neighing now for me departing, In the pasture of my brother, In the stable of my father; Sure my father's steeds will know me, Bid Pohyola's daughter welcome. Brother's faithful dogs may know me, That I oft have fed and petted, Dogs that I have taught to frolic, That now mourn for me departing, In their kennels in the court-yard, In their kennels cold and cheerless; Sure my brother's dogs will welcome Pohya's daughter home returning. But the people will not know me, When I come these scenes to visit, Though the fords remain as ever, Though unchanged remain the rivers, Though untouched the flaxen fish-nets On the shores await my coming.

"Fare thou well, my dear old homestead, Fare ye well, my native bowers; It would give me joy unceasing Could I linger here forever. Now farewell, ye halls and portals, Leading to my father's mansion; It would give me joy unceasing Could I linger here forever. Fare ye well, familiar gardens Filled with trees and fragrant flowers; It would give me joy unceasing, Could I linger here forever. Send to all my farewell greetings, To the fields, and groves, and berries; Greet the meadows with their daisies, Greet the borders with their fences, Greet the lakelets with their islands, Greet the streams with trout disporting, Greet the hills with stately pine-trees, And the valleys with their birches. Fare ye well, ye streams and lakelets, Fertile fields, and shores of ocean, All ye aspens on the mountains, All ye lindens of the valleys, All ye beautiful stone-lindens, All ye shade-trees by the cottage, All ye junipers and willows, All ye shrubs with berries laden, Waving grass and fields of barley, Arms of elms, and oaks, and alders, Fare ye well, dear scenes of childhood, Happiness of days departed!" Ending thus, Pohyola's daughter Left her native fields and fallows, Left the darksome Sariola, With her husband, Ilmarinen, Famous son of Kalevala. But the youth remained for singing, This the chorus of the children: "Hither came a bird of evil' Flew in fleetness from the forest, Came to steal away our virgin, Came to win the Maid of Beauty; Took away our fairest flower, Took our mermaid from the waters, Won her with his youth and beauty, With his keys of ancient wisdom. Who will lead us to the sea-beach, Who conduct us to the rivers? Now the buckets will be idle, On the hooks will rest the fish-poles, Now unswept will lie the matting, And unswept the halls of birch-wood, Copper goblets be unburnished, Dark the handles of the pitchers, Fare thou well, dear Rainbow Maiden." Ilmarinen, happy bridegroom, Hastened homeward with the daughter Of the hostess of Pohyola, With the beauty of the Northland Fleetly flew the hero's snow-sledge, Loudly creaked, and roared, and rattled Down the banks of Northland waters, By the side of Honey-inlet, On the back of Sandy Mountain. Stones went rolling from the highway, Like the winds the sledge flew onward, On the yoke rang hoops of iron, Loud the spotted wood resounded, Loudly creaked the bands of willow, All the birchen cross-bars trembled, And the copper-bells rang music, In the racing of the fleet-foot, In the courser's gallop homeward; Journeyed one day, then a second, Journeyed still the third day onward, In one hand the reins of magic, While the other grasped the maiden, One foot resting on the cross-bar, And the other in the fur-robes. Merrily the steed flew homeward, Quickly did the highways shorten, Till at last upon the third day, As the sun was fast declining, There appeared the blacksmith's furnace, Nearer, Ilmarinen's dwelling, Smoke arising high in ether, Clouds of smoke to lofty heaven, From the village of Wainola, From the suitor's forge and smithy, From the chimneys of the hero, From the home of the successful.

the wild boar

[and howls


northern wolves]

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.

the magician

"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.

through the wild and snow

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.


[the first


and the


of beauty]

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,

My beloved

"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.

From the sky, black eyes and white light

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:

death, the distance travelled

"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:

the ungrateful

"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.

through death

[and ruin


light of day]

I have brought young Kaukomieli, Brought the Islander and hero, Also known as Lemminkainen, Through the jaws of death and ruin, Through the darkling deeps of Kalma, To the homesteads of Pohyola, To the dismal courts of Louhi; Now must I relate his doings, Must relate to all my bearers, How the merry Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Wandered through Pohyola's chambers, Through the halls of Sariola, How the hero went unbidden To the feasting and carousal, Uninvited to the banquet. Lemminkainen full of courage, Full of life, and strength, and magic. Stepped across the ancient threshold, To the centre of the court-room, And the floors of linwood trembled, Walls and ceilings creaked and murmured. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, These the words that Ahti uttered:

"Be ye greeted on my coming, Ye that greet, be likewise greeted! Listen, all ye hosts of Pohya; Is there food about this homestead, Barley for my hungry courser, Beer to give a thirsty stranger? Sat the host of Sariola At the east end of the table, Gave this answer to the questions: "Surely is there in this homestead, For thy steed an open stable, Never will this host refuse thee, Shouldst thou act a part becoming, Worthy, coming to these portals, Waiting near the birchen rafters, In the spaces by the kettles, By the triple hooks of iron." Then the reckless Lemminkainen Shook his sable locks and answered:

"Lempo may perchance come hither, Let him fill this lowly station, Let him stand between the kettles, That with soot he may be blackened. Never has my ancient father, Never has the dear old hero, Stood upon a spot unworthy, At the portals near the rafters; For his steed the best of stables, Food and shelter gladly furnished, And a room for his attendants, Corners furnished for his mittens, Hooks provided for his snow-shoes, Halls in waiting for his helmet. Wherefore then should I not find here What my father found before me?" To the centre walked the hero, Walked around the dining table, Sat upon a bench and waited, On a bench of polished fir-wood, And the kettle creaked beneath him. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen:

"As a guest am I unwelcome, Since the waiters bring no viands, Bring no dishes to the stranger?" Ilpotar, the Northland hostess, Then addressed the words that follow: "Lemminkainen, thou art evil, Thou art here, but not invited, Thou hast not the look of kindness, Thou wilt give me throbbing temples, Thou art bringing pain and sorrow. All our beer is in the barley, All the malt is in the kernel, All our grain is still ungarnered, And our dinner has been eaten; Yesterday thou shouldst have been here, Come again some future season." Whereupon wild Lemminkainen Pulled his mouth awry in anger, Shook his coal-black locks and answered:

"All the tables here are empty, And the feasting-time is over; All the beer has left the goblets, Empty too are all the pitchers, Empty are the larger vessels. O thou hostess of Pohyola, Toothless dame of dismal Northland, Badly managed is thy wedding, And thy feast is ill-conducted, Like the dogs hast thou invited; Thou hast baked the honey-biscuit, Wheaten loaves of greatest virtue, Brewed thy beer from hops and barley, Sent abroad thine invitations, Six the hamlets thou hast honored, Nine the villages invited By thy merry wedding-callers. Thou hast asked the poor and lowly, Asked the hosts of common people, Asked the blind, and deaf, and crippled, Asked a multitude of beggars, Toilers by the day, and hirelings; Asked the men of evil habits, Asked the maids with braided tresses, I alone was not invited. How could such a slight be given, Since I sent thee kegs of barley? Others sent thee grain in cupfuls, Brought it sparingly in dippers, While I sent thee fullest measure, Sent the half of all my garners, Of the richest of my harvest, Of the grain that I had gathered. Even now young Lemminkainen, Though a guest of name and station Has no beer, no food, no welcome, Naught for him art thou preparing, Nothing cooking in thy kettles, Nothing brewing in thy cellars For the hero of the Islands, At the closing of his journey." Ilpotar, the ancient hostess, Gave this order to her servants:

"Come, my pretty maiden-waiter, Servant-girl to me belonging, Lay some salmon to the broiling, Bring some beer to give the stranger!" Small of stature was the maiden, Washer of the banquet-platters, Rinser of the dinner-ladles, Polisher of spoons of silver, And she laid some food in kettles, Only bones and beads of whiting, Turnip-stalks and withered cabbage, Crusts of bread and bits of biscuit. Then she brought some beer in pitchers, Brought of common drink the vilest, That the stranger, Lemminkainen, Might have drink, and meat in welcome, Thus to still his thirst and hunger.

through the wild and the snow, vipers and the sons of the North

Then the maiden spake as follows: "Thou art sure a mighty hero, Here to drink the beer of Pohya, Here to empty all our vessels!" Then the minstrel, Lemminkainen, Closely handled all the pitchers, Looking to the very bottoms; There beheld he writhing serpents, In the centre adders swimming, On the borders worms and lizards. Then the hero, Lemminkainen, Filled with anger, spake as follows: Get ye hence, ye things of evil, Get ye hence to Tuonela, With the bearer of these pitchers, With the maid that brought ye hither, Ere the evening moon has risen, Ere the day-star seeks the ocean! O thou wretched beer of barley, Thou hast met with great dishonor, Into disrepute hast fallen, But I'll drink thee, notwithstanding, And the rubbish cast far from me." Then the hero to his pockets Thrust his first and unnamed finger, Searching in his pouch of leather; Quick withdraws a hook for fishing, Drops it to the pitcher's bottom, Through the worthless beer of barley; On his fish-book hang the serpents, Catches many hissing adders, Catches frogs in magic numbers, Catches blackened worms in thousands, Casts them to the floor before him, Quickly draws his heavy broad sword, And decapitates the serpents. Now he drinks the beer remaining, When the wizard speaks as follows: "As a guest am I unwelcome, Since no beer to me is given That is worthy of a hero; Neither has a ram been butchered, Nor a fattened calf been slaughtered, Worthy food for Lemminkainen." Then the landlord of Pohyola Answered thus the Island-minstrel: "Wherefore hast thou journeyed hither, Who has asked thee for thy presence? Spake in answer Lemminkainen: "Happy is the guest invited, Happier when not expected; Listen, son of Pohylander, Host of Sariola, listen: Give me beer for ready payment, Give me worthy drink for money!" Then the landlord of Pohyola, In bad humor, full of anger, Conjured in the earth a lakelet, At the feet of Kaukomieli, Thus addressed the Island-hero: "Quench thy thirst from yonder lakelet, There, the beer that thou deservest!" Little heeding, Lemminkainen To this insolence made answer: "I am neither bear nor roebuck, That should drink this filthy water, Drink the water of this lakelet." Ahti then began to conjure, Conjured he a bull before him, Bull with horns of gold and silver, And the bull drank from the lakelet, Drank he from the pool in pleasure. Then the landlord of Pohyola There a savage wolf created, Set him on the floor before him To destroy the bull of magic, Lemminkainen, full of courage, Conjured up a snow-white rabbit, Set him on the floor before him To attract the wolf's attention. Then the landlord of Pohyola Conjured there a dog of Lempo, Set him on the floor before him To destroy the magic rabbit. Lemminkainen, full of mischief, Conjured on the roof a squirrel, That by jumping on the rafters He might catch the dog's attention. But the master of the Northland Conjured there a golden marten, And he drove the magic squirrel From his seat upon the rafters. Lemminkainen, full of mischief, Made a fox of scarlet color, And it ate the golden marten. Then the master of Pohyola Conjured there a hen to flutter Near the fox of scarlet color. Lemminkainen, full of mischief, Thereupon a hawk created, That with beak and crooked talons He might tear the hen to pieces. Spake the landlord of Pohyola, These the words the tall man uttered: "Never will this feast be bettered Till the guests are less in number; I must do my work as landlord, Get thee hence, thou evil stranger, Cease thy conjurings of evil, Leave this banquet of my people, Haste away, thou wicked wizard, To thine Island-home and people! Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: "Thus no hero will be driven, Not a son of any courage Will be frightened by thy presence, Will be driven from thy banquet." Then the landlord of Pohyola Snatched his broadsword from the rafters, Drew it rashly from the scabbard, Thus addressing Lemminkainen: "Ahti, Islander of evil, Thou the handsome Kaukomieli, Let us measure then our broadswords, Let our skill be fully tested; Surely is my broadsword better Than the blade within thy scabbard." Spake the hero, Lemminkainen. "That my blade is good and trusty, Has been proved on heads of heroes, Has on many bones been tested; Be that as it may, my fellow, Since thine order is commanding, Let our swords be fully tested, Let us see whose blade is better. Long ago my hero-father Tested well this sword in battle, Never failing in a conflict. Should his son be found less worthy?" Then he grasped his mighty broadsword, Drew the fire-blade from the scabbard Hanging from his belt of copper. Standing on their hilts their broadswords, Carefully their blades were measured, Found the sword of Northland's master Longer than the sword of Ahti By the half-link of a finger. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen. "Since thou hast the longer broadsword, Thou shalt make the first advances, I am ready for thy weapon." Thereupon Pohyola's landlord With the wondrous strength of anger, Tried in vain to slay the hero, Strike the crown of Lemminkainen; Chipped the splinters from the rafters, Cut the ceiling into fragments, Could not touch the Island-hero. Thereupon brave Kaukomieli, Thus addressed Pohyola's master: "Have the rafters thee offended? What the crimes they have committed, Since thou hewest them in pieces? Listen now, thou host of Northland, Reckless landlord of Pohyola, Little room there is for swordsmen In these chambers filled with women; We shall stain these painted rafters, Stain with blood these floors and ceilings; Let us go without the mansion, In the field is room for combat, On the plain is space sufficient; Blood looks fairer in the court-yard, Better in the open spaces, Let it dye the snow-fields scarlet." To the yard the heroes hasten, There they find a monstrous ox-skin, Spread it on the field of battle; On the ox-skin stand the swordsmen. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: "Listen well, thou host of Northland, Though thy broadsword is the longer, Though thy blade is full of horror, Thou shalt have the first advantage; Use with skill thy boasted broadsword Ere the final bout is given, Ere thy head be chopped in pieces; Strike with skill, or thou wilt perish, Strike, and do thy best for Northland." Thereupon Pohyola's landlord Raised on high his blade of battle, Struck a heavy blow in anger, Struck a second, then a third time, But he could not touch his rival, Could Dot draw a single blood-drop From the veins of Lemminkainen, Skillful Islander and hero. Spake the handsome Kaukomieli: "Let me try my skill at fencing, Let me swing my father's broadsword, Let my honored blade be tested!" But the landlord of Pohyola, Does not heed the words of Ahti, Strikes in fury, strikes unceasing, Ever aiming, ever missing. When the skillful Lemminkainen Swings his mighty blade of magic, Fire disports along his weapon, Flashes from his sword of honor, Glistens from the hero's broadsword, Balls of fire disporting, dancing, On the blade of mighty Ahti, Overflow upon the shoulders Of the landlord of Pohyola. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: "O thou son of Sariola, See! indeed thy neck is glowing Like the dawning of the morning, Like the rising Sun in ocean!" Quickly turned Pohyola's landlord, Thoughtless host of darksome Northland, To behold the fiery splendor Playing on his neck and shoulders. Quick as lightning, Lemminkainen, With his father's blade of battle, With a single blow of broadsword, With united skill and power, Lopped the head of Pohya's master; As one cleaves the stalks of turnips, As the ear falls from the corn-stalk, As one strikes the fins from salmon, Thus the head rolled from the shoulders Of the landlord of Pohyola, Like a ball it rolled and circled. In the yard were pickets standing, Hundreds were the sharpened pillars, And a head on every picket, Only one was left un-headed. Quick the victor, Lemminkainen, Took the head of Pohya's landlord, Spiked it on the empty picket. Then the Islander, rejoicing, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Quick returning to the chambers, Crave this order to the hostess: "Evil maiden, bring me water, Wherewithal to cleanse my fingers From the blood of Northland's master, Wicked host of Sariola." Ilpotar, the Northland hostess, Fired with anger, threatened vengeance, Conjured men with heavy broadswords, Heroes clad in copper-armor, Hundred warriors with their javelins, And a thousand bearing cross-bows, To destroy the Island-hero, For the death of Lemminkainen. Kaukomieli soon discovered That the time had come for leaving, That his presence was unwelcome At the feasting of Pohyola, At the banquet of her people.



the river

And mountain]

Ahti, hero of the Islands, Wild magician, Lemminkainen, Also known as Kaukomieli, Hastened from the great carousal, From the banquet-halls of Louhi, From the ever-darksome Northland, From the dismal Sariola. Stormful strode he from the mansion, Hastened like the smoke of battle, From the court-yard of Pohyola, Left his crimes and misdemeanors In the halls of ancient Louhi. Then he looked in all directions, Seeking for his tethered courser, Anxious looked in field and stable, But he did not find his racer; Found a black thing in the fallow, Proved to be a clump of willows. Who will well advise the hero, Who will give him wise directions, Guide the wizard out of trouble, Give his hero-locks protection, Keep his magic head from danger From the warriors of Northland? Noise is beard within the village, And a din from other homesteads, From the battle-hosts of Louhi, Streaming from the doors and window, Of the homesteads of Pohyola. Thereupon young Lemminkainen, Handsome Islander and hero, Changing both his form and features, Clad himself in other raiment, Changing to another body, Quick became a mighty eagle, Soared aloft on wings of magic, Tried to fly to highest heaven, But the moonlight burned his temples, And the sunshine singed his feathers. Then entreating, Lemminkainen, Island-hero, turned to Ukko, This the prayer that Ahti uttered:

"Ukko, God of love and mercy, Thou the Wisdom of the heavens, Wise Director of the lightning, Thou the Author of the thunder, Thou the Guide of all the cloudlets, Give to me thy cloak of vapor, Throw a silver cloud around me, That I may in its protection Hasten to my native country, To my mother's Island-dwelling, Fly to her that waits my coming, With a mother's grave forebodings." Farther, farther, Lemminkainen Flew and soared on eagle-pinions, Looked about him, backwards, forwards, Spied a gray-hawk soaring near him, In his eyes the fire of splendor, Like the eyes of Pohyalanders, Like the eyes of Pohya's spearmen, And the gray-hawk thus addressed him:

"Ho! There! hero, Lemminkainen, Art thou thinking of our combat With the hero-heads of Northland?" Thus the Islander made answer, These the words of Kaukomieli: "O thou gray-hawk, bird of beauty, Fly direct to Sariola, Fly as fast as wings can bear thee; When thou hast arrived in safety, On the plains of darksome Northland, Tell the archers and the spearmen, They will never catch the eagle, In his journey from Pohyola, To his Island-borne and fortress." Then the Ahti-eagle hastened Straightway to his mother's cottage, In his face the look of trouble, In his heart the pangs of sorrow. Ahti's mother ran to meet him, When she spied him in the pathway, Walking toward her island-dwelling; These the words the mother uttered: "Of my sons thou art the bravest, Art the strongest of my children; Wherefore then comes thine annoyance, On returning from Pohyola? Wert thou worsted at the banquet, At the feast and great carousal? At thy cups, if thou wert injured, Thou shalt here have better treatment Thou shalt have the cup thy father Brought me from the hero-castle." Spake the reckless Lemminkainen:

mothers from the wild

"Worthy mother, thou that nursed me, If I had been maimed at drinking, I the landlord would have worsted, Would have slain a thousand heroes, Would have taught them useful lessons." Lemminkainen's mother answered:

"Wherefore then art thou indignant, Didst thou meet disgrace and insult, Did they rob thee of thy courser? Buy thou then a better courser With the riches of thy mother, With thy father's horded treasures." Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: "Faithful mother of my being, If my steed had been insulted, If for him my heart was injured, I the landlord would have punished, Would have punished all the horsemen, All of Pohya's strongest riders." Lemminkainen's mother answered: "Tell me then thy dire misfortune, What has happened to my hero, On his journey to Pohyola? Have the Northland maidens scorned thee, Have the women ridiculed thee? If the maidens scorned thy presence. If the women gave derision, There are others thou canst laugh at, Thou canst scorn a thousand women." Said the reckless Lemminkainen: "Honored mother, fond and faithful, If the Northland dames had scorned me Or the maidens laughed derision, I the maidens would have punished, Would have scorned a thousand women." Lemminkainen's mother answered: "Wherefore then are thou indignant, Thus annoyed, and heavy-hearted, On returning from Pohyola? Was thy feasting out of season, Was the banquet-beer unworthy, Were thy dreams of evil import When asleep in darksome Northland?" This is Lemminkainen's answer:

"Aged women may remember What they dream on beds of trouble; I have seen some wondrous visions, Since I left my Island-cottage.

to leave the bed of trouble

My beloved, helpful mother, Fill my bag with good provisions, Flour and salt in great abundance, Farther must thy hero wander, He must leave his home behind him, Leave his pleasant Island-dwelling, Journey from this home of ages; Men are sharpening their broadswords, Sharpening their spears and lances, For the death of Lemminkainen." Then again the mother questioned, Hurriedly she asked the reason:

flour and salt, and sword in hand

"Why the men their swords were whetting, Why their spears are being sharpened." Spake the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli: "Therefore do they whet their broadswords, Therefore sharpen they their lances: It is for thy son's destruction, At his heart are aimed their lances. In the court-yard of Pohyola, There arose a great contention, Fierce the battle waged against me; But I slew the Northland hero, Killed the host of Sariola; Quick to arms rose Louhi's people, All the spears and swords of Northland Were directed at thy hero; All of Pohya turned against me, Turned against a single foeman." This the answer of the mother:

"I had told thee this beforehand, I had warned thee of this danger, And forbidden thee to journey To the hostile fields of Northland. Here my hero could have lingered, Passed his life in full contentment, Lived forever with his mother, With his mother for protection, In the court-yard with his kindred; Here no war would have arisen, No contention would have followed. Whither wilt thou go, my hero, Whither will my loved one hasten, To escape thy fierce pursuers, To escape from thy misdoings, From thy sins to bide in safety, From thy crimes and misdemeanors, That thy head be not endangered, That thy body be not mangled, That thy locks be not outrooted?" Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: "Know I not a spot befitting, Do not know a place of safety, Where to hide from my pursuers, That will give me sure protection From the crimes by me committed. Helpful mother of my being, Where to flee wilt thou advise me?" This the answer of the mother: "I do not know where I can send thee; Be a pine-tree on the mountain, Or a juniper in lowlands? Then misfortune may befall thee; Often is the mountain pine-tree Cut in splints for candle-lighters; And the juniper is often Peeled for fence-posts for the pastures. Go a birch-tree to the valleys, Or an elm-tree to the glenwood? Even then may trouble find thee, Misery may overtake thee; Often is the lowland birch-tree Cut to pieces in the ware-house; Often is the elm-wood forest Cleared away for other plantings. Be a berry on the highlands, Cranberry upon the heather, Strawberry upon the mountains, Blackberry along the fences? Even there will trouble find thee, There misfortune overtake thee, For the berry-maids would pluck thee, Silver-tinselled girls would get thee. Be a pike then in the ocean, Or a troutlet in the rivers? Then would trouble overtake thee, Would become thy life-companion; Then the fisherman would catch thee, Catch thee in his net of flax-thread, Catch thee with his cruel fish-hook. Be a wolf then in the forest, Or a black-bear in the thickets? Even then would trouble find thee, And disaster cross thy pathway; Sable hunters of the Northland Have their spears and cross-bows ready To destroy the wolf and black-bear." Spake the reckless Lemminkainen:

"Know I well the worst of places, Know where Death will surely follow, Where misfortune's eye would find me; Since thou gavest me existence, Gavest nourishment in childhood, Whither shall I flee for safety, Whither hide from death and danger? In my view is fell destruction, Dire misfortune hovers o'er me; On the morrow come the spearmen, Countless warriors from Pohya, Ahti's head their satisfaction." This the answer of the mother: "I can name a goodly refuge, Name a land of small dimensions, Name a distant ocean-island, Where my son may live in safety. Thither archers never wander, There thy head cannot be severed; But an oath as strong as heaven, Thou must swear before thy mother; Thou wilt not for sixty summers Join in war or deadly combat, Even though thou wishest silver, Wishest gold and silver treasures." Spake the grateful Lemminkainen:

"I will swear an oath of honor, That I'll not in sixty summers Draw my sword in the arena, Test the warrior in battle; I have wounds upon my shoulders, On my breast two scars of broadsword, Of my former battles, relies, Relies of my last encounters, On the battle-fields of Northland, In the wars with men and heroes." Lemminkainen's mother answered:

"Go thou, take thy father's vessel, Go and bide thyself in safety, Travel far across nine oceans; In the tenth, sail to the centre, To the island, forest-covered, To the cliffs above the waters, Where thy father went before thee, Where he hid from his pursuers, In the times of summer conquests, In the darksome days of battle; Good the isle for thee to dwell in, Goodly place to live and linger; Hide one year, and then a second, In the third return in safety To thy mother's island dwelling, To thy father's ancient mansion, To my hero's place of resting."



the river

And mountain]

Lemminkainen, full of joyance, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Took provisions in abundance, Fish and butter, bread and bacon, Hastened to the Isle of Refuge, Sailed away across the oceans, Spake these measures on departing:

"Fare thee well, mine Island-dwelling, I must sail to other borders, To an island more protective, Till the second summer passes; Let the serpents keep the island, Lynxes rest within the glen-wood, Let the blue-moose roam the mountains, Let the wild-geese cat the barley. Fare thee well, my helpful mother! When the warriors of the Northland, From the dismal Sariola, Come with swords, and spears, and cross-bows, Asking for my head in vengeance, Say that I have long departed, Left my mother's Island-dwelling, When the barley had been garnered." Then he launched his boat of copper, Threw the vessel to the waters, From the iron-banded rollers, From the cylinders of oak-wood, On the masts the sails he hoisted, Spread the magic sails of linen, In the stern the hero settled And prepared to sail his vessel, One hand resting on the rudder. Then the sailor spake as follows, These the words of Lemminkainen:

"Blow, ye winds, and drive me onward, Blow ye steady, winds of heaven, Toward the island in the ocean, That my bark may fly in safety To my father's place of refuge, To the far and nameless island!" Soon the winds arose as bidden, Rocked the vessel o'er the billows, O'er the blue-back of the waters, O'er the vast expanse of ocean; Blew two months and blew unceasing, Blew a third month toward the island, Toward his father's Isle of Refuge. Sat some maidens on the seaside, On the sandy beach of ocean, Turned about in all directions, Looking out upon the billows; One was waiting for her brother, And a second for her father, And a third one, anxious, waited For the coming of her suitor; There they spied young Lemminkainen, There perceived the hero's vessel Sailing o'er the bounding billows; It was like a hanging cloudlet, Hanging twixt the earth and heaven. Thus the island-maidens wondered, Thus they spake to one another: "What this stranger on the ocean, What is this upon the waters? Art thou one of our sea-vessels? Wert thou builded on this island? Sail thou straightway to the harbor, To the island-point of landing That thy tribe may be discovered." Onward did the waves propel it, Rocked his vessel o'er the billows, Drove it to the magic island, Safely landed Lemminkainen On the sandy shore and harbor. Spake he thus when he had landed, These the words that Ahti uttered:

room upon this island

"Is there room upon this island, Is there space within this harbor, Where my bark may lie at anchor, Where the sun may dry my vessel?" This the answer of the virgins, Dwellers on the Isle of Refuge: "There is room within this harbor, On this island, space abundant, Where thy bark may lie at anchor, Where the sun may dry thy vessel; Lying ready are the rollers, Cylinders adorned with copper; If thou hadst a hundred vessels, Shouldst thou come with boats a thousand, We would give them room in welcome." Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Rolled his vessel in the harbor, On the cylinders of copper, Spake these words when he had ended:

"Is there room upon this island, Or a spot within these forests, Where a hero may be hidden From the coming din of battle, From the play of spears and arrows? Thus replied the Island-maidens: "There are places on this island, On these plains a spot befitting Where to hide thyself in safety, Hero-son of little valor. Here are many, many castles, Many courts upon this island; Though there come a thousand heroes, Though a thousand spearmen follow, Thou canst hide thyself in safety." Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: "Is there room upon this island, Where the birch-tree grows abundant, Where this son may fell the forest, And may cultivate the fallow?" Answered thus the Island-maidens:

"There is not a spot befitting, Not a place upon the island, Where to rest thy wearied members, Not the smallest patch of birch-wood, Thou canst bring to cultivation. All our fields have been divided, All these woods have been apportioned, Fields and forests have their owners." Lemminkainen asked this question, These the words of Kaukomieli: "Is there room upon this island, Worthy spot in field or forest, Where to Sing my songs of magic, Chant my gathered store of wisdom, Sing mine ancient songs and legends?" Answered thus the Island-maidens: "There is room upon this island, Worthy place in these dominions, Thou canst sing thy garnered wisdom, Thou canst chant thine ancient legends, Legends of the times primeval, In the forest, in the castle, On the island-plains and pastures." Then began the reckless minstrel To intone his wizard-sayings; Sang he alders to the waysides, Sang the oaks upon the mountains, On the oak-trees sang be branches, On each branch he sang an acorn, On the acorns, golden rollers, On each roller, sang a cuckoo; Then began the cuckoos, calling, Gold from every throat came streaming, Copper fell from every feather, And each wing emitted silver, Filled the isle with precious metals. Sang again young Lemminkainen, Conjured on, and sang, and chanted, Sang to precious stones the sea-sands, Sang the stones to pearls resplendent, Robed the groves in iridescence, Sang the island full of flowers, Many-colored as the rainbow. Sang again the magic minstrel, In the court a well he conjured, On the well a golden cover, On the lid a silver dipper, That the boys might drink the water, That the maids might lave their eyelids.

to leave the bed of trouble, to sing of sweetness and wonders

On the plains he conjured lakelets, Sang the duck upon the waters, Golden-cheeked and silver-headed, Sang the feet from shining copper; And the Island-maidens wondered, Stood entranced at Ahti's wisdom, At the songs of Lemminkainen, At the hero's magic power. Spake the singer, Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli:

"I would sing a wondrous legend, Sing in miracles of sweetness, If within some hall or chamber, I were seated at the table. If I sing not in the castle, In some spot by walls surrounded Then I sing my songs to zephyrs, Fling them to the fields and forests." Answered thus the Island-maidens: "On this isle are castle-chambers, Halls for use of magic singers, Courts complete for chanting legends, Where thy singing will be welcome, Where thy songs will not be scattered To the forests of the island, Nor thy wisdom lost in ether." Straightway Lemminkainen journeyed With the maidens to the castle; There he sang and conjured pitchers On the borders of the tables, Sang and conjured golden goblets Foaming with the beer of barley; Sang he many well-filled vessels, Bowls of honey-drink abundant, Sweetest butter, toothsome biscuit, Bacon, fish, and veal, and venison, All the dainties of the Northland, Wherewithal to still his hunger. But the proud-heart, Lemminkainen, Was not ready for the banquet, Did not yet begin his feasting, Waited for a knife of silver, For a knife of golden handle; Quick he sang the precious metals, Sang a blade from purest silver, To the blade a golden handle, Straightway then began his feasting, Quenched his thirst and stilled his hunger, Charmed the maidens on the island. Then the minstrel, Lemminkainen, Roamed throughout the island-hamlets, To the joy of all the virgins, All the maids of braided tresses; Wheresoe'er he turned his footsteps, There appeared a maid to greet him; When his hand was kindly offered, There his band was kindly taken; When he wandered out at evening, Even in the darksome places, There the maidens bade him welcome; There was not an island-village Where there were not seven castles, In each castle seven daughters, And the daughters stood in waiting, Gave the hero joyful greetings, Only one of all the maidens Whom he did not greet with pleasure. Thus the merry Lemminkainen Spent three summers in the ocean, Spent a merry time in refuge, In the hamlets on the island, To the pleasure of the maidens, To the joy of all the daughters; Only one was left neglected, She a poor and graceless spinster, On the isle's remotest border, In the smallest of the hamlets. 'Then he thought about his journey O'er the ocean to his mother, To the cottage of his father. There appeared the slighted spinster, To the Northland son departing, Spake these words to Lemminkainen:

"O, thou handsome Kaukomieli, Wisdom-bard, and magic singer, Since this maiden thou hast slighted, May the winds destroy thy vessel, Dash thy bark to countless fragments On the ocean-rocks and ledges!" Lemminkainen's thoughts were homeward, Did not heed the maiden's murmurs, Did not rise before the dawning Of the morning on the island, To the pleasure of the maiden Of the much-neglected hamlet. Finally at close of evening, He resolved to leave the island, He resolved to waken early, Long before the dawn of morning; Long before the time appointed, He arose that he might wander Through the hamlets of the island, Bid adieu to all the maidens, On the morn of his departure. As he wandered hither, thither, Walking through the village path-ways To the last of all the hamlets; Saw he none of all the castle-, Where three dwellings were not standing; Saw he none of all the dwellings Where three heroes were not watching; Saw he none of all the heroes, Who was not engaged in grinding Swords, and spears, and battle-axes, For the death of Lemminkainen. And these words the hero uttered:

"Now alas! the Sun arises From his couch within the ocean, On the frailest of the heroes, On the saddest child of Northland; On my neck the cloak of Lempo Might protect me from all evil, Though a hundred foes assail me, Though a thousand archers follow." Then he left the maids ungreeted, Left his longing for the daughters Of the nameless Isle of Refuge, With his farewell-words unspoken, Hastened toward the island-harbor, Toward his magic bark at anchor; But he found it burned to ashes, Sweet revenge had fired his vessel, Lighted by the slighted spinster. Then he saw the dawn of evil, Saw misfortune hanging over, Saw destruction round about him. Straightway he began rebuilding Him a magic sailing-vessel, New and wondrous, full of beauty; But the hero needed timber, Boards, and planks, and beams, and braces, Found the smallest bit of lumber, Found of boards but seven fragments, Of a spool he found three pieces, Found six pieces of the distaff; With these fragments builds his vessel, Builds a ship of magic virtue, Builds the bark with secret knowledge, Through the will of the magician; Strikes one blow, and builds the first part, Strikes a second, builds the centre, Strikes a third with wondrous power, And the vessel is completed. Thereupon the ship he launches, Sings the vessel to the ocean, And these words the hero utters:

"Like a bubble swim these waters, Like a flower ride the billows; Loan me of thy magic feathers, Three, O eagle, four, O raven, For protection to my vessel, Lest it flounder in the ocean!" Now the sailor, Lemminkainen, Seats himself upon the bottom Of the vessel he has builded, Hastens on his journey homeward, Head depressed and evil-humored, Cap awry upon his forehead, Mind dejected, heavy-hearted, That he could not dwell forever In the castles of the daughters Of the nameless Isle of Refuge. Spake the minstrel, Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli:

"Leave I must this merry island, Leave her many joys and pleasures, Leave her maids with braided tresses, Leave her dances and her daughters, To the joys of other heroes; But I take this comfort with me: All the maidens on the island, Save the spinster who was slighted, Will bemoan my loss for ages, Will regret my quick departure; They will miss me at the dances, In the halls of mirth and joyance, In the homes of merry maidens, On my father's Isle of Refuge." Wept the maidens on the island, Long lamenting, loudly calling To the hero sailing homeward:

"Whither goest, Lemminkainen, Why depart, thou best of heroes? Dost thou leave from inattention, Is there here a dearth of maidens, Have our greetings been unworthy?" Sang the magic Lemminkainen To the maids as he was sailing, This in answer to their calling: "Leaving not for want of pleasure, Do not go from dearth of women Beautiful the island-maidens, Countless as the sands their virtues. This the reason of my going, I am longing for my home-land, Longing for my mother's cabins, For the strawberries of Northland, For the raspberries of Kalew, For the maidens of my childhood, For the children of my mother." Then the merry Lemminkainen Bade farewell to all the island; Winds arose and drove his vessel On the blue-back of the ocean, O'er the far-extending waters, Toward the island of his mother. On the shore were grouped the daughters Of the magic Isle of Refuge, On the rocks sat the forsaken, Weeping stood the island-maidens, Golden daughters, loud-lamenting. Weep the maidens of the island While the sail-yards greet their vision, While the copper-beltings glisten; Do not weep to lose the sail-yards, Nor to lose the copper-beltings; Weep they for the loss of Ahti, For the fleeing Kaukomieli Guiding the departing vessel. Also weeps young Lemminkainen, Sorely weeps, and loud-lamenting, Weeps while he can see the island, While the island hill-tops glisten; Does not mourn the island-mountains, Weeps he only for the maidens, Left upon the Isle of Refuge. Thereupon sailed Kaukomieli On the blue-back of the ocean; Sailed one day, and then a second, But, alas! upon the third day, There arose a mighty storm-wind, And the sky was black with fury. Blew the black winds from the north-west, From the south-east came the whirlwind, Tore away the ship's forecastle, Tore away the vessel's rudder, Dashed the wooden hull to pieces. Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Headlong fell upon the waters; With his head he did the steering, With his hands and feet, the rowing; Swam whole days and nights unceasing, Swam with hope and strength united, Till at last appeared a cloudlet, Growing cloudlet to the westward, Changing to a promontory, Into land within the ocean. Swiftly to the shore swam Ahti, Hastened to a magic castle, Found therein a hostess baking, And her daughters kneading barley, And these words the hero uttered:

"O, thou hostess, filled with kindness, Couldst thou know my pangs of hunger, Couldst thou guess my name and station, Thou wouldst hasten to the storehouse, Bring me beer and foaming liquor, Bring the best of thy provisions, Bring me fish, and veal, and bacon, Butter, bread, and honeyed biscuits, Set for me a wholesome dinner, Wherewithal to still my hunger, Quench the thirst of Lemminkainen. Days and nights have I been swimming, Buffeting the waves of ocean, Seemed as if the wind protected, And the billows gave me shelter," Then the hostess, filled with kindness, Hastened to the mountain storehouse, Cut some butter, veal, and bacon, Bread, and fish, and honeyed biscuit, Brought the best of her provisions, Brought the mead and beer of barley, Set for him a toothsome dinner, Wherewithal to still his hunger, Quench the thirst of Lemminkainen. When the hero's feast had ended, Straightway was a magic vessel Given by the kindly hostess To the weary Kaukomieli, Bark of beauty, new and hardy, Wherewithal to aid the stranger In his journey to his home-land, To the cottage of his mother. Quickly sailed wild Lemminkainen On the blue-back of the ocean; Sailed he days and nights unceasing, Till at last he reached the borders Of his own loved home and country; There beheld he scenes familiar, Saw the islands, capes, and rivers, Saw his former shipping-stations, Saw he many ancient landmarks, Saw the mountains with their fir-trees, Saw the pine-trees on the hill-tops, Saw the willows in the lowlands; Did not see his father's cottage, Nor the dwellings of his mother. Where a mansion once had risen, There the alder-trees were growing, Shrubs were growing on the homestead, Junipers within the court-yard. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen:

"In this glen I played and wandered, On these stones I rocked for ages, On this lawn I rolled and tumbled, Frolicked on these woodland-borders, When a child of little stature. Where then is my mother's dwelling, Where the castles of my father? Fire, I fear, has found the hamlet, And the winds dispersed the ashes." Then he fell to bitter weeping, Wept one day and then a second, Wept the third day without ceasing; Did not mourn the ancient homestead, Nor the dwellings of his father; Wept he for his darling mother, Wept he for the dear departed, For the loved ones of the island. Then he saw the bird of heaven, Saw an eagle flying near him, And he asked the bird this question:

"Mighty eagle, bird majestic, Grant to me the information, Where my mother may have wandered, Whither I may go and find her!" But the eagle knew but little, Only knew that Ahti's people Long ago together perished; And the raven also answered That his people had been scattered By the swords, and spears, and arrows, Of his enemies from Pohya. Spake the hero, Lemminkainen: "Faithful mother, dear departed, Thou who nursed me in my childhood, Art thou dead and turned to ashes, Didst thou perish for my follies, O'er thy head are willows weeping, Junipers above thy body, Alders watching o'er thy slumbers? This my punishment for evil, This the recompense of folly! Fool was I, a son unworthy, That I measured swords in Northland With the landlord of Pohyola, To my tribe came fell destruction, And the death of my dear mother, Through my crimes and misdemeanors." Then the ministrel [sic] looked about him, Anxious, looked in all directions, And beheld some gentle foot-prints, Saw a pathway lightly trodden Where the heather had been beaten. Quick as thought the path he followed, Through the meadows, through the brambles, O'er the hills, and through the valleys, To a forest, vast and cheerless; Travelled far and travelled farther, Still a greater distance travelled, To a dense and hidden glenwood, In the middle of the island; Found therein a sheltered cabin, Found a small and darksome dwelling Built between the rocky ledges, In the midst of triple pine-trees; And within he spied his mother, Found his gray-haired mother weeping. Lemminkainen loud rejoices, Cries in tones of joyful greetings, These the words that Ahti utters: "Faithful mother, well-beloved, Thou that gavest me existence, Happy I, that thou art living, That thou hast not yet departed To the kingdom of Tuoni, To the islands of the blessed, I had thought that thou hadst perished, Hadst been murdered by my foemen, Hadst been slain with bows and arrows. Heavy are mine eyes from weeping, And my checks are white with sorrow, Since I thought my mother slaughtered For the sins I had committed!" Lemminkainen's mother answered: "Long, indeed, hast thou been absent, Long, my son, hast thou been living In thy father's Isle of Refuge, Roaming on the secret island, Living at the doors of strangers, Living in a nameless country, Refuge from the Northland foemen." Spake the hero, Lemminkainen:

"Charming is that spot for living, Beautiful the magic island, Rainbow-colored was the forest, Blue the glimmer of the meadows, Silvered were, the pine-tree branches, Golden were the heather-blossoms; All the woodlands dripped with honey, Eggs in every rock and crevice, Honey flowed from birch and sorb-tree, Milk in streams from fir and aspen, Beer-foam dripping from the willows, Charming there to live and linger, All their edibles delicious. This their only source of trouble: Great the fear for all the maidens, All the heroes filled with envy, Feared the coming of the stranger; Thought that all the island-maidens, Thought that all the wives and daughters, All the good, and all the evil, Gave thy son too much attention; Thought the stranger, Lemminkainen, Saw the Island-maids too often; Yet the virgins I avoided, Shunned the good and shunned the evil, Shunned the host of charming daughters, As the black-wolf shuns the sheep-fold, As the hawk neglects the chickens."


[the lakes

the plains

And all of man]

Lemminkainen, reckless minstrel, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Hastens as the dawn is breaking, At the dawning of the morning, To the resting-place of vessels, To the harbor of the island, Finds the vessels sorely weeping, Hears the wailing of the rigging, And the ships intone this chorus: "Must we wretched lie forever In the harbor of this island, Here to dry and fall in pieces? Ahti wars no more in Northland, Wars no more for sixty summers, Even should he thirst for silver, Should he wish the gold of battle." Lemminkainen struck his vessels With his gloves adorned with copper, And addressed the ships as follows:

"Mourn no more, my ships of fir-wood, Strong and hardy is your rigging, To the wars ye soon may hasten, Hasten to the seas of battle; Warriors may swarm your cabins Ere to-morrow's morn has risen.!'" Then the reckless Lemminkainen Hastened to his aged mother, Spake to her the words that follow: "Weep no longer, faithful mother, Do not sorrow for thy hero, Should he leave for scenes of battle, For the hostile fields of Pohya; Sweet revenge has fired my spirit, And my soul is well determined, To avenge the shameful insult That the warriors of Northland Gave to thee, defenseless woman." To restrain him seeks his mother, Warns her son again of danger: "Do not go, my son beloved, To the wars in Sariola; There the jaws of Death await thee, Fell destruction lies before thee!" Lemminkainen, little heeding, Still determined, speaks as follows:

"Where may I secure a swordsman, Worthy of my race of heroes, To assist me in the combat? Often I have heard of Tiera, Heard of Kura of the islands, This one I will take to help me, Magic hero of the broadsword; He will aid me in the combat, Will protect me from destruction." Then he wandered to the islands, On the way to Tiera's hamlet, These the words that Ahti utters As he nears the ancient dwellings: Dearest friend, my noble Tiera, My beloved hero-brother, Dost thou other times remember, When we fought and bled together, On the battle-fields of Northland? There was not an island-village Where there were not seven mansions, In each mansion seven heroes, And not one of all these foemen Whom we did not slay with broadswords, Victims of our skill and valor." Near the window sat the father Whittling out a javelin-handle; Near the threshold sat the mother Skimming cream and making butter; Near the portal stood the brother Working on a sledge of birch-wood Near the bridge-pass were the sisters Washing out their varied garments. Spake the father from the window, From the threshold spake the mother, From the portals spake the brother, And the sisters from the bridge-pass:

"Tiera has no time for combat, And his broadsword cannot battle; Tiera is but late a bridegroom, Still unveiled his bride awaits him." Near the hearth was Tiera lying, Lying by the fire was Kura, Hastily one foot was shoeing, While the other lay in waiting. From the hook he takes his girdle, Buckles it around his body, Takes a javelin from its resting, Not the largest, nor the smallest, Buckles on his mighty scabbard, Dons his heavy mail of copper; On each javelin pranced a charger, Wolves were howling from his helmet, On the rings the bears were growling. Tiera poised his mighty javelin, Launched the spear upon its errand; Hurled the shaft across the pasture, To the border of the forest, O'er the clay-fields of Pohyola, O'er the green and fragrant meadows, Through the distant bills of Northland. Then great Tiera touched his javelin To the mighty spear of Ahti, Pledged his aid to Lemminkainen, As his combatant and comrade. Thereupon wild Kaukomieli Pushed his boat upon the waters; Like the serpent through the heather, Like the creeping of the adder, Sails the boat away to Pohya, O'er the seas of Sariola. Quick the wicked hostess, Louhi, Sends the black-frost of the heavens To the waters of Pohyola, O'er the far-extending sea-plains, Gave the black-frost these directions:

the sons and daughters of spears and axes

"Much-loved Frost, my son and hero, Whom thy mother has instructed, Hasten whither I may send thee, Go wherever I command thee, Freeze the vessel of this hero, Lemminkainen's bark of magic, On the broad back of the ocean, On the far-extending waters; Freeze the wizard in his vessel, Freeze to ice the wicked Ahti, That he never more may wander, Never waken while thou livest, Or at least till I shall free him, Wake him from his icy slumber!" Frost, the son of wicked parents, Hero-son of evil manners, Hastens off to freeze the ocean, Goes to fasten down the flood-gates, Goes to still the ocean-currents. As he hastens on his journey, Takes the leaves from all the forest, Strips the meadows of their verdure, Robs the flowers of their colors. When his journey he had ended, Gained the border of the ocean, Gained the sea-shore curved and endless, On the first night of his visit, Freezes he the lakes and rivers, Freezes too the shore of ocean, Freezes not the ocean-billows, Does not check the ocean-currents. On the sea a finch is resting, Bird of song upon the waters, But his feet are not yet frozen, Neither is his head endangered.

to leave the bed of trouble

When the second night Frost lingered, He began to grow important, He became a fierce intruder, Fearless grew in his invasions, Freezes everything before him; Sends the fiercest cold of Northland, Turns to ice the boundless waters. Ever thicker, thicker, thicker, Grew the ice on sea and ocean, Ever deeper, deeper, deeper, Fell the snow on field and forest, Froze the hero's ship of beauty, Cold and lifeless bark of Ahti; Sought to freeze wild Lemminkainen, Freeze him lifeless as his vessel, Asked the minstrel for his life-blood, For his ears, and feet, and fingers. Then the hero, Lemminkainen, Angry grew and filled with magic, Hurled the black-frost to the fire-god, Threw him to the fiery furnace, Held him in his forge of iron, Then addressed the frost as follows:

"Frost, thou evil son of Northland, Dire and only son of Winter, Let my members not be stiffened, Neither ears, nor feet, nor fingers, Neither let my head be frozen. Thou hast other things to feed on, Many other beads to stiffen; Leave in peace the flesh of heroes, Let this minstrel pass in safety, Freeze the swamps, and lakes, and rivers, Fens and forests, bills and valleys; Let the cold stones grow still colder, Freeze the willows in the waters, Let the aspens freeze and suffer, Let the bark peel from the birch-trees, Let the Pines burst on the mountains, Let this hero pass in safety, Do not let his locks be stiffened. "If all these prove insufficient, Feed on other worthy matters; Let the hot stones freeze asunder, Let the flaming rocks be frozen, Freeze the fiery blocks of iron, Freeze to ice the iron mountains; Stiffen well the mighty Wuoksi, Let Imatra freeze to silence; Freeze the sacred stream and whirlpool, Let their boiling billows stiffen, Or thine origin I'll sing thee, Tell thy lineage of evil. Well I know thine evil nature, Know thine origin and power, Whence thou camest, where thou goest, Know thine ancestry of evil. Thou wert born upon the aspen, Wert conceived upon the willows, Near the borders of Pohyola, In the courts of dismal Northland; Sin-begotten was thy father, And thy mother was Dishonor.

"While in infancy who fed thee While thy mother could not nurse thee? Surely thou wert fed by adders, Nursed by foul and slimy serpents; North-winds rocked thee into slumber, Cradled thee in roughest weather, In the worst of willow-marshes, In the springs forever flowing, Evil-born and evil-nurtured, Grew to be an evil genius, Evil was thy mind and spirit, And the infant still was nameless, Till the name of Frost was given To the progeny of evil. "Then the young lad lived in hedges, Dwelt among the weeds and willows, Lived in springs in days of summer, On the borders of the marshes, Tore the lindens in the winter, Stormed among the glens and forests, Raged among the sacred birch-trees, Rattled in the alder-branches, Froze the trees, the shoots, the grasses, Evened all the plains and prairies, Ate the leaves within the woodlands, Made the stalks drop down their blossoms, Peeled the bark on weeds and willows. "Thou hast grown to large proportions, Hast become too tall and mighty; Dost thou labor to benumb me, Dost thou wish mine ears and fingers, Of my feet wouldst thou deprive me? Do not strive to freeze this hero, In his anguish and misfortune; In my stockings I shall kindle Fire to drive thee from my presence, In my shoes lay flaming faggots, Coals of fire in every garment, Heated sandstones in my rigging; Thus will hold thee at a distance. Then thine evil form I'll banish To the farthest Northland borders; When thy journey is completed, When thy home is reached in safety, Freeze the caldrons in the castle, Freeze the coal upon the hearthstone, In the dough, the hands of women, On its mother's lap, the infant, Freeze the colt beside its mother.

"If thou shouldst not heed this order, I shall banish thee still farther, To the carbon-piles of Hisi, To the chimney-hearth of Lempo, Hurl thee to his fiery furnace, Lay thee on the iron anvil, That thy body may be hammered With the sledges of the blacksmith, May be pounded into atoms, Twixt the anvil and the hammer. "If thou shouldst not heed this order, Shouldst not leave me to my freedom, Know I still another kingdom, Know another spot of resting; I shall drive thee to the summer, Lead thy tongue to warmer climates, There a prisoner to suffer, Never to obtain thy freedom Till thy spirit I deliver, Till I go myself and free thee." Wicked Frost, the son of Winter, Saw the magic bird of evil Hovering above his spirit, Straightway prayed for Ahti's mercy, These the words the Frost-fiend uttered:

"Let us now agree together, Neither one to harm the other, Never in the course of ages, Never while the moonlight glimmers On the snow-capped hills of Northland. If thou hearest that I bring thee Cold to freeze thy feet and fingers, Hurl me to the fiery furnace, Hammer me upon the anvil Of the blacksmith, Ilmarinen; Lead my tongue to warmer climates, Banish me to lands of summer, There a prisoner to suffer, Nevermore to gain my freedom." Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Left his vessel in the ocean, Frozen in the ice of Northland, Left his warlike boat forever, Started on his cheerless journey To the borders of Pohyola, And the mighty Tiera followed In the tracks of his companion. On the ice they journeyed northward Briskly walked upon the ice-plain, Walked one day, and then a second, Till the closing of the third day, When the Hunger-land approached them, When appeared Starvation-island. Here the hardy Lemminkainen Hastened forward to the castle, This the hero's prayer and question;

"Is there food within this castle, Fish or fowl within its larders, To refresh us on our journey, Mighty heroes, cold and weary? When the hero, Lemminkainen, Found no food within the castle, Neither fish, nor fowl, nor bacon, Thus he cursed it and departed: "May the fire destroy these chambers, May the waters flood this dwelling, Wash it to the seas of Mana!" Then they hastened onward, onward, Hastened on through field and forest, Over by-ways long untrodden, Over unknown paths and snow-fields; Here the hardy Lemminkainen, Reckless hero, Kaukomieli, Pulled the soft wool from the ledges, Gathered lichens from the tree-trunks, Wove them into magic stockings, Wove them into shoes and mittens, On the settles of the hoar-frost, In the stinging cold of Northland. Then he sought to find some pathway, That would guide their wayward footsteps, And the hero spake as follows:

"O thou Tiera, friend beloved, Shall we reach our destination, Wandering for days together, Through these Northland fields and forests? Kura thus replies to Ahti: "We, alas! have come for vengeance, Come for blood and retribution, To the battle-fields of Northland, To the dismal Sariola, Here to leave our souls and bodies, Here to starve, and freeze, and perish, In the dreariest of places, In this sun-forsaken country! Never shall we gain the knowledge, Never learn it, never tell it, Which the pathway that can guide us To the forest-beds to suffer, To the Pohya-plains to perish, In the home-land of the ravens, Fitting food for crows and eagles. Often do the Northland vultures Hither come to feed their fledgelings; Hither bring the birds of heaven Bits of flesh and blood of heroes; Often do the beaks of ravens Tear the flesh of kindred corpses, Often do the eagle's talons Carry bones and trembling vitals, Such as ours, to feed their nestlings, In their rocky homes and ledges.

"Oh! my mother can but wonder, Never can divine the answer, Where her reckless son is roaming, Where her hero's blood is flowing, Whether in the swamps and lowlands Whether in the heat of battle, Or upon the waves of the ocean, Or upon the hop-feld mountains, Or along some forest by-way. Nothing can her mind discover Of the frailest of her heroes, Only think that he has perished. Thus the hoary-headed mother Weeps and murmurs in her chambers: 'Where is now my son beloved, In the kingdom of Manala? Sow thy crops, thou dread Tuoni, Harrow well the fields of Kalma! Now the bow receives its respite From the fingers of my Tiera; Bow and arrow now are useless, Now the merry birds can fatten In the fields, and fens, and forests; Bears may live in dens of freedom, On the fields may sport the elk-herds.'" Spake the reckless Lemminkainen:

"Thus it is, mine aged mother, Thou that gavest me existence! Thou hast reared thy broods of chickens, Hatched and reared thy flights of white-swans All of them the winds have scattered, Or the evil Lempo frightened; One flew hither, and one thither, And a third one, lost forever! Think thou of our former pleasures, Of our better days together, When I wandered like the flowers, Like the berry in the meadows. Many saw my form majestic, Many thought me well-proportioned. Now is not as then with Ahti, Into evil days have fallen, Since I see but storms and darkness! Then my eyes beheld but sunshine, Then we did not weep and murmur, Did not fill our hearts with sorrow, When the maids in joy were singing, When the virgins twined their tresses; Then the women joined in joyance, Whether brides were happy-wedded, Whether bridegrooms choose discreetly, Whether they were wise or unwise.

"But we must not grow disheartened, Let the Island-maidens cheer us; Here we are not yet enchanted, Not bewitched by magic singing, On the paths not left to perish, Sink and perish on our journey. Full of youth we should not suffer, Strong, we should not die unworthy, Whom the wizards have enchanted, Have bewitched with songs of magic; Sorcerers may charm and conquer, Bury them within their dungeons, Hide them spell-bound in their cabins. Let the wizards charm each other, And bewitch their magic offspring, Bring their tribes to fell destruction. Never did my gray-haired father Bow submission to a wizard, Offer worship to magicians. These the words my father uttered, These the thoughts his son advances: 'Guard us, thou O great Creator, Shield us, thou O God of mercy, With thine arms of grace protect us, Help us with thy strength and wisdom, Guide the minds of all thy heroes, Keep aright the thoughts of women, Keep the old from speaking evil, Keep the young from sin and folly, Be to us a help forever, Be our Guardian and our Father, That our children may not wander From the ways of their Creator, From the path that God has given!'" Then the hero Lemminkainen, Made from cares the fleetest racers, Sable racers from his sorrows, Reins he made from days of evil, From his sacred pains made saddles. To the saddle, quickly springing, Galloped he away from trouble, To his dear and aged mother; And his comrade, faithful Tiera, Galloped to his Island-dwelling. Now departs wild Lemminkainen, Brave and reckless Kaukomieli, From these ancient songs and legends; Only guides his faithful Kura To his waiting bride and kindred, While these lays and incantations Shall be turned to other heroes.

The Kalevala


Norse unknowns

Author(s), web adaptation and photography

Mike Koontz
Countless of Norse Unknowns
Compiled in Finnish, and minor writing by Elias Lönnrot
Translated by John Martin Crawford

To the daisy that is my sun and inspiration

   Author page, Michael A Koontz
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Last Few Published Books and Articles

  • We are standing at the crossroads of the Anthropocene. Earth hour and the stuff that lies beyond.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes

    At the crossroads of the Anthropocene.
    Earth Hour.
    Is by now, our essential every day reality.

    On one hand, we are now living in the day and age of butterflies and endangered white rhinos hopefully being multiplied and preserved through soon to be commercial cloning facilities. finally making sure we will never have to lose another species to extinction.
    Putting an end to the way we lost the last surviving male Great Northern Rhino just the other day.

    And that lingering, hopeful road is walking hand in hand with this growing worldwide awareness that eating healthy, and being healthy is not just good for that one person, but transformative and good for everybody else too.
    Be it from a financial perspective or healthwise speaking.

  • Fitness School, Question 32, Can fitness reduce dementia risk with as much as 90% for a 50 year old female?

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 32 in our School of Fitness.
    We all know that physical activity and healthy food is just that, life and body improving yum for muscles and mind alike.
    Some might claim they hate it, and others truly love keeping fit and healthy, enriching their daily life in endless supply.
    And you know it greatly reduces the risk of getting a long range of cancer forms, it helps arthritis patients, lower back pain, keeps you lean and hearty healthy.
    It fights off bad sleep and osteoporosis. Slow the roll of biological aging and on and on, and all this is proven over and over by science.
    And so, my simple question this time around is as follows:
    Do you also know if healthy fit women in their 50s have been shown to greatly reduce the risk of getting dementia compared to less fit women?.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 31, What´s up with that biceps, give us the lowdown.

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 31 in our School of Fitness.
    When we are talking and thinking about muscles and keeping fit, Biceps is not just one of the more iconic names in the world of fitness and the human anatomy, it is also a very visible muscle that truly pops on people that keep healthy fit. But where on your body can you actually locate your biceps muscle and more importantly is the name biceps only referring to one muscle or do we have more than one biceps on our body?
    And so, my question for you is as follows:
    Can you tell us if the human anatomy have one or more muscles with the name biceps, and where are they/it located?.

  • A life of health & fitness. Life is a wondrous journey and this is a rough view of this years fitness journey ( the way I do it ).

    Quality time needed: 14 minutes

    Complete the circle of health & fitness.
    Every single day.
    Fitness, Food & Health is nothing but the science of a healthy, fun life :).

    The following is a rudimentary overview of my health & fitness life from Jan 1, 2018, to Jan 1, 2019. Some fitness folks think the world of planning ahead, and some absolutely do need a firm plan for the months and even year ahead.
    Short term goals firmly lined up and long-term goal posts holding their own further out make a world of difference for some. And your own goals can be about certain PB´s, they can involve reaching a certain body fat % or strength goal. Other common goals have to do with cardiovascular performance and might be focused on improving your lactate levels, running speed, zone levels or maximum heart rate. And for competitive pro athletes, those goals usually involve specific competitions and championships.

    So yes, setting up a rough schedule in advance of your fitness year can make a lot of sense.
    Just as how a lot of people count daily steps and calories.

  • Fitness School. Question 30, Let us talk about biological aging and our T cells and that beautiful little Thymus.

    Quality time needed: 6 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 30 in our School of Fitness.
    You all know that I have been a vocal proponent of how we do not simply grow old like some archaic fairy tale myth where people are doomed to live fat and unhealthy and frail once they leave their 20´s behind them.
    No instead, my science-backed message has for years been that we simply create and manage our own aging process according to our own choices in food, life, and fitness.
    Be it lean muscle mass, body fat, bone health, even our brain and plenty of natural hormones. Our daily choices carry such incredible weight when it comes down to all these aspects of our own wellbeing and health, much more so than the number of years we have lived or the genes we inherit. And Science proves me right on all these things, over and over, and over again.

    But, how about our immune system? In sedentary people, our thymus slowly becomes less capable as we mature beyond our 20´s. That is a simple fact.
    And so, my question for you:
    Will regular fitness stomp aging in the face or is the thymus and the stuff it does for us destined to go wry as we age no matter our fitness and food choices?.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 29, How prevalent is plastic litter amongst deep sea fish.

    Quality time needed: 6 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 29 in our School of Fitness.
    We have previously talked about getting enough natural amounts of omega 3 in our food. So let us cast our net a bit wider and deeper as we go hunting for natural Omega 3 sources in the deep sea.
    Yes, we are what we eat kiddos.
    And so, the time has come to talk about one of the better Omega 3 sources out there, which is fish ( like cows, fish love munching away on plant-based food such as Algae and so they end up with a ton of Omega 3, and so can you. ), and outside of Omega 3 fish also used to be a sustainable source of proteins and omega 3 amongst other things.
    The key word is used to be. But like us, and the cows, fish are what they eat.
    And today, outside of depleted fish stocks, fish swim in bodies of waters, polluted, and depleted of oxygen and ruined by us, the human species. And as health & fitness loving professionals and human beings, we always have to consider the world we live in, because we are all what we eat and the way we live becomes the state of our body & mind, life, and health. And if the fish you eat is full of toxins, plastic, and other unhealthy things, that is what you too will consume and thus, become.
    So, here is my question:
    How prevalent is plastic pollution in deep sea fish right now?.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 28, Let us get healthy and dirty with Omega 3 and milk.

    Quality time needed: 6 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 28 in our School of Fitness.
    As far as health & fitness goes, eating healthy food on a daily basis is the ever-present and perfectly fitted glove that wraps the fit hand that is regular and challenging workouts in the gym.
    And one of those nutritious, and essential for our health, nutrient staples are Omega 3´s. We get it in all sorts of seafood. And we can get it from omega 3 fortified foods such as eggs.
    Another wonderful omega 3 source are plant-based foods such as chia seeds. But, meat and dairy products from grass-fed cattle can also contain natural amounts of omega 3.
    So, here is my question:
    How much Omega 3 do you actually get from one L ( 1L ) of milk produced from grass fed cattle?.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 27, How big do you need your daily calorie deficit to be, in order to roughly drop 250g of bodyfat per week.

    Quality time needed: 7 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 27 in our School of Fitness.
    From a healthy fit perspective, both short & long term, what we need to sculpt is a life of daily physical activity in the right amount and the right intensity coupled with healthy food choices and the proper amount of nutrients.
    And those healthy choices include making sure that we get enough of those healthy nutrients in order to perform, in the gym and daily life, and we need enough of them in order for our body and mind to stay healthy, happy, capable and fit.
    Eat too little protein and you will start losing lean muscle mass, and your health will start to decline too since proteins are not just the major building blocks of our muscles, they are in fact the mud and water, wood and concrete that builds our entire body, be it your internal organs, your skin, hair, muscles, cells, or our brain.
    And the total amount of daily calories we consume is, of course, pretty much the same thing, eat too little in total, and you will start noticing how your health and fitness level slowly deteriorate. And if you do the opposite and stuff your tummy full with too many daily calories you will start gaining pure body fat in excessive amounts and it will continue to build unless you change your daily choices.
    So, here is my question:
    How big do you need to make your daily calorie deficit in order to lose 250g of body fat per week ( roughly ) while eating enough protein to preserve your lean muscle mass?.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 26, Black coffee, is it a natural diuretic that causes dehydration or a health improving rehydrating drink?

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 26 in our School of Fitness.
    Black coffee, the mere words are capable of sending hundreds of millions of people into a state of Nirvana filled with transcending bliss and harmony :).
    But black coffee is also a cup of rejuvenating health for our entire system. It calms the mind with its slowly rising aroma, helps us keep cancer and diabetes at bay, harnesses our creative focus like an arrow in flight, and in enough quantities, it can even boost peoples gym going efforts.
    But is there all there is to it?. Well, here is my question:
    Is the old saying true that your daily coffee drives so much fluid out of your body that you need to supplement your coffee intake with equal measures water too in order to stay hydrated?.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 25, Tell us the major muscles in your back.

    Quality time needed: 3 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 25 in our School of Fitness.
    Outside of our legs and ass, there is no other muscle group that comes close to sheer size, strength, health impact and lean muscle mass potential than our back. So as exhausting as a proper back workout is, this is one big and essential muscle group you should never skimp out on, no matter if your own goals are all in on health and wellness, sports or just sheer looks, or all of the above.
    Here is my question:
    Tell me the major muscles that makes up our back. Straight and simple folks.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 24, Can Maintained Fitness prevent the negative health impact of chemotherapy?.

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 24 in our School of Fitness.
    Chemotherapy is one of those crucial things that no one ever hoped to one day experience. But when the going gets real tough in life, its a life saver.
    However, undergoing Chemotherapy is no walk in the park and while it can save your life and defeat cancer, it will also take its toll on your body. So much so that a recent study from Australia revealed that just 13 weeks of chemotherapy caused the heart to age by an equivalent of six years.
    Here is my question:
    Can maintained fitness exercise during chemotherapy prevent the now established cardiovascular aging associated with chemotherapy?.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 23, How much will my daily fitness activity reduce the risk of dying from cardiovascular disease?.

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 23 in our School of Fitness.
    How are you enjoying 2018 so far?. I am having a blast, in the gym and outside it, workouts are wondrously good and that is because I stay at it, week in and week out. Stay persistent with food and fitness people and reap the benefits in body & mind. Keeping to a daily fitness schedule is just a choice, after all, and a very healthy choice at that.

    And, for the next fitness school question, let us dig deep down on that word "persistent" and uncover just how much weekly fitness will scientifically aid your health on low, moderate and intense fitness levels.
    And as such, here is my question for you:
    Can as little as 30 minutes of daily low-level physical fitness activity reduce the risk of dying from cardiovascular disease by as much as 24% compared to not doing that daily activity?.

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 22, is there any difference at all in recovery capacity after a hard leg workout in the gym depending on your biological age?.

    Quality time needed: 9 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 22 in our School of Fitness.
    2017 came and went in a glorious display of Northern lights. But now that we are all one year older. Let us take a look at that age-old saying that we recover worse and slower after a hard workout in the gym as we grow beyond our 30´s.
    Is there any truth to this at all? Or is this just one more thing that people got wrong in the name of lacking insight, age-related fears, and youth-obsessed peer pressure?.
    To put it simply.
    Will the 22-year-old you recover better after a kick-ass weight lifting workout in the gym doing intense deadlifts than the 50 year old you will be able to do, or can you safely go at it just as hard knowing that you will recover and improve just as good?.

  • Fitness & Health: Going plant-based with your food choices is one of the better food choices you can do.

    Quality time needed: 2 minutes

    Complete the circle.
    Every single day.
    Fitness, Food & Health, its just science baby, smiles, sweat and science :).

    Eating healthy is an essential part of every human beings healthy fit lifestyle.
    And like keeping active and healthy at the gym and in daily life it's a daily choice.
    Going plant-based with your food choices is one of the better food choices you can do. As long as you keep on top of your protein, your fat ( Omega 3 mainly ), iron, B12, Iodine and creatine going plant-based is very easy to do and super beneficial for health & fitness ( and the planet ).

  • The first day of 2018. A tiny micro-short story and the best fitness & health advice you will ever get in life. Let us kickstart 2018 and lay nothing but healthy fit days on the road ahead.

    Quality time needed: 6 minutes

    The arrival of 2018
    And the best health & fitness advice you will ever get.
    Life in the Anthropocene, its just science baby, smiles, sweat and science :).

    Enjoy a healthy fit, and happy 2018 people, but before I start our shiny new year by giving you the single best health & fitness advice you´ll ever get in life, a tiny little micro-short story to welcome you to the rest of your life.
    "the dragon that climbed the world of ice"
    'I watched it climb
    the world of ice that towered us both
    its mighty tail stung the icy cavern beneath us, like a spear it was thrust into the chest of the icy mountain, sending splatter of man-sized ice blocks and snow that bled into the bottomless pit, while it drove its left and right limbs into the frosty mountain above us

    and slowly
    over the endless void of time

    the dragon climbed its way upward
    through a world of ice that tried to hold us captive

    we climbed
    endless step by endless step towards the moon and the stars to hunt them one by one'.

  • Life in the Anthropocene & saving the endangered Rhino. Kenyan ultra marathon providing the adventure of a lifetime and a world improving good cause.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes

    Health & Fitness
    And the ultra marathon to save the Rhino.
    Life in the Anthropocene is all about our global and individual responsibility.

    And in some ways, I can not think about a much better and more current way to emphasize our individual and globally shared responsibility than the Kenyan Ultra Marathon taking place in 2018.
    It's like all the other sports competitions ever done about the individual responsibility to shape and form your ongoing life and fitness journey so that you can endure and conquer that particular challenge.
    But it is equally much a team effort, to better our planet and to save the Rhino.
    As such it serves as a proxy for our own health, and our modern day pollution, the local and global poverty, the gender and class-based inequality, the competition itself, and the endangered wildlife and all the species rapidly going extinct across the entire world.
    We are all responsible. Individually and globally.
    And in that spirit, this ultramarathon is not just about bringing together runners from all around the world, it is also a marathon to save the endangered Rhino from going extinct, and to better the entire world.

  • Naughty xmas poetry "There are secrets hiding, in the xmas tree" and a merry winter solstice to you guys.

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes

    Winter solstice poetry
    a quality xmas
    and happy new year.

    Enjoy the rest of December people and make sure to allow yourselves and others the only gift truly worth something this xmas. And that is to breathe and exhale, relax and enjoy each and every moment.
    Do not suffocate each other or stress yourself out as you try in vain to achieve the perfect holiday, there is no such thing when it comes to the way we celebrate new years eve, winter solstice, xmas or whatever you call it.
    Chasing perfection and meaningless details are what kills that perfect day even before it starts. So just enjoy your day, yourself and each other the way you are.
    Have a good one and now, here is my perfect xmas in the shape of a naughty winter solstice poem ( and moment ) I am calling "There are secrets hiding, in the xmas tree", enjoy the read and the days ahead :).

  • Fitness School, Do you know the right answer?. Question 18, will obesity increase my risk of developing Alzheimer?.

    Quality time needed: 3 minutes

    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.

    Question number 18 in our School of Fitness.
    Obesity is no friend of any individuals longterm health. We all know that.
    But is cheering each other into obesity and being overweight also scientifically speaking, causing an increase in the risk of developing Alzheimer?.

  • Anthropocene: We have real global progress but also life diminishing quality for hundreds of million of people. Official UNICEF study.

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes

    Global progress.
    And diminishing lives.
    Life in the Anthropocene.

    In a world of global progress in a lot of important aspects, we can never close our eyes to the simple fact that hundreds of millions of people around this beautiful world are witnessing how their lives are becoming increasingly worse.
    “In a time of rapid technological change leading to huge gains in living standards, it is perverse that hundreds of millions are seeing living standards actually decline, creating a sense of injustice among them and failure among those entrusted with their care,” “No wonder they feel their voices are unheard and their futures uncertain.”
    - Laurence Chandy, UNICEF Director of Data, Research, and Policy.

  • Black Friday 20% off: fine art for the living room walls by yours truly.

    Quality time needed: 3 minutes

    The art of living.
    Fine art for the living room walls by yours truly.
    Black Friday discount.

    You pick the size, the framing and whether you prefer the white margin or zero margins on your print and there you go, parcel on the way.
    Printing & shipping is handled by the Swedish fine art gallery Printler and they ship to all of Europe.
    And for Black Friday you´ll even get a 20% discount, valid until Monday 27 Nov.

  • 'At the bridge to Asgard, sprouts and roots grow the ever tree'. Here we live in the age of the Anthropocene.

    Quality time needed: 6 minutes

    sprouts and roots
    A healthy you, is a healthy world.
    Life in the Anthropocene.

    'At the bridge to Asgard, sprouts and roots grow the ever tree' through the gates of life and death, and the turning of the Midgard snake.
    We walk beneath a starry sky, weaved by light and dark and obscured shades our eyes can not see.

    We melt and turn the tides of time, as we spill the soil between our fingers.
    It drips back down to where it came from, all while the ants and worms grow unseen layers of brand new soil.

  • Fitness & Health: 'Health at a Glance' is a European health report covering obesity around Europe in 2017.

    Quality time needed: 7 minutes

    Health at a Glance
    A European health report 2017
    Fitness & Health.

    Health at a Glance is a European health report for 2017. And in it the United Kingdom is revealed to be Western Europes most obese nation.
    So, perhaps, fish and chips and beer just isnt the best of national food obsessions.
    Another important highlight that bounces right back at you is how obesity in the UK has increased by 92% since the 1990s ( it´s been increasing in every nation btw, but good ol England is leading the pack ).

    And since we also know by now that obesity & overweight is not just about a individual increase in body fat %, which would have been perfectly fine and all down to personal preferences in body composition and aesthetics, but instead is directly tied to a huge increase in several health issues, such as diabetes & cancer and severely decreased quality of life and longevity.

  • Anthropocene & the annual 'good country index' is back for its worldwide summary with the year 2017. And Scandinavia once again dominates.

    Quality time needed: 3 minutes

    the good country index 2017
    Life beyond 2028.

    Sweden once again dominates the good country index, sort of making it an annual business as usual reveal in other words.
    Sweden is followed closely by another Scandinavian country, namely Denmark, which, is no real surprise, the Nordic nations can be found at the top of the world, year after year, after year in a long range of beneficial, quality of life metrics and studies.

  • 9 million annual deaths due to worldwide pollution in air, soil, water. Life in the Anthropocene.

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes

    9 million
    annual deaths due to worldwide pollution
    The art of living.

    Every year the number of people that die prematurely due to worldwide pollution keep on increasing. And right now that pollution in water, soil, air, chemical or work-related pollution is already taking the life of 9 million people around the world.

    Let us think about that for one more second, every single year 9 million people end up dying prematurely due to the modern day pollution we all contribute to.

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