The Kalevala, Rune 31 to 40






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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






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swans



[and chickens


son of evil ]





In the ancient times a mother Hatched and raised some swans and chickens, Placed the chickens in the brushwood, Placed her swans upon the river; Came an eagle, hawk, and falcon, Scattered all her swans and chickens, One was carried to Karyala, And a second into Ehstland, Left a third at home in Pohya. And the one to Ehstland taken Soon became a thriving merchant; He that journeyed to Karyala Flourished and was called Kalervo; He that hid away in Pohya Took the name of Untamoinen, Flourished to his father's sorrow, To the heart-pain of his mother. Untamoinen sets his fish-nets In the waters of Kalervo; Kullerwoinen sees the fish-nets, Takes the fish home in his basket. Then Untamo, evil-minded, Angry grew and sighed for vengeance, Clutched his fingers for the combat, Bared his mighty arms for battle, For the stealing of his salmon, For the robbing of his fish-nets. Long they battled, fierce the struggle, Neither one could prove the victor; Should one beat the other fiercely, He himself was fiercely beaten. Then arose a second trouble; On the second and the third days, Kalerwoinen sowed some barley Near the barns of Untamoinen; Untamoinen's sheep in hunger Ate the crop of Kullerwoinen; Kullerwoinen's dog in malice Tore Untamo's sheep in pieces; Then Untamo sorely threatened To annihilate the people Of his brother, Kalerwoinen, To exterminate his tribe-folk, To destroy the young and aged, To out-root his race and kingdom; Conjures men with broadswords girded, For the war he fashions heroes, Fashions youth with spears adjusted, Bearing axes on their shoulders, Conjures thus a mighty army, Hastens to begin a battle, Bring a war upon his brother. Kalerwoinen's wife in beauty Sat beside her chamber-window, Looking out along the highway, Spake these words in wonder guessing:


the place of battle

"Do I see some smoke arising, Or perchance a heavy storm-cloud, Near the border of the forest, Near the ending of the prairie?" It was not some smoke arising, Nor indeed a heavy storm-cloud, It was Untamoinen's soldiers Marching to the place of battle. Warriors of Untamoinen Came equipped with spears and arrows, Killed the people of Kalervo, Slew his tribe and all his kindred, Burned to ashes many dwellings, Levelled many courts and cabins, Only, left Kalervo's daughter, With her unborn child, survivors Of the slaughter of Untamo; And she led the hostile army To her father's halls and mansion, Swept the rooms and made them cheery, Gave the heroes home-attentions. Time had gone but little distance, Ere a boy was born in magic Of the virgin, Untamala, Of a mother, trouble-laden, Him the mother named Kullervo,

"Pearl of Combat," said Untamo. Then they laid the child of wonder, Fatherless, the magic infant, In the cradle of attention, To be rocked, and fed, and guarded; But he rocked himself at pleasure, Rocked until his locks stood endwise; Rocked one day, and then a second, Rocked the third from morn till noontide; But before the third day ended, Kicks the boy with might of magic, Forwards, backwards, upwards, downwards, Kicks in miracles of power, Bursts with might his swaddling garments Creeping from beneath his blankets, Knocks his cradle into fragments, Tears to tatters all his raiment, Seemed that he would grow a hero, And his mother, Untamala, Thought that be, when full of stature, When he found his strength and reason, Would become a great magician, First among a thousand heroes. When three months the boy had thriven, He began to speak as follows:


"When my form is full of stature, When these arms grow strong and hardy, Then will I avenge the murder Of Kalervo and his people!"




to avenge the murder, beneath the aspens and raven filled gray skies



Untamoinen bears the saying, Speaks these words to those about him; "To my tribe he brings destruction, In him grows a new Kalervo!" Then the heroes well considered, And the women gave their counsel, How to kill the magic infant, That their tribe may live in safety. It appeared the boy would prosper; Finally, they all consenting, He was placed within a basket, And with willows firmly fastened, Taken to the reeds and rushes, Lowered to the deepest waters, In his basket there to perish. When three nights had circled over, Messengers of Untamoinen Went to see if he had perished In his basket in the waters; But the prodigy, was living, Had not perished in the rushes; He had left his willow-basket, Sat in triumph on a billow, In his hand a rod of copper, On the rod a golden fish-line, Fishing for the silver whiting, Measuring the deeps beneath him; In the sea was little water, Scarcely would it fill three measures. Untamoinen then reflected, This the language of the wizard:


"Whither shall we take this wonder, Lay this prodigy of evil, That destruction may o'ertake him, Where the boy will sink and perish?" Then his messengers he ordered To collect dried poles of brushwood, Birch-trees with their hundred branches, Pine-trees full of pitch and resin, Ordered that a pyre be builded, That the boy might be cremated, That Kullervo thus might perish. High they piled the and branches, Dried limbs from the sacred birch-tree, Branches from a hundred fir-trees, Knots and branches full of resign; Filled with bark a thousand sledges, Seasoned oak, a hundred measures; Piled the brushwood to the tree-tops, Set the boy upon the summit, Set on fire the pile of brushwood, Burned one day, and then a second, Burned the third from morn till evening. When Untamo sent his heralds To inspect the pyre and wizard, There to learn if young Kullervo Had been burned to dust and ashes, There they saw the young boy sitting On a pyramid of embers, In his band a rod of copper, Raking coals of fire about him, To increase their heat and power; Not a hair was burned nor injured, Not a ringlet singed nor shrivelled. Then Untamo, evil-humored, Thus addressed his trusted heralds:


"Whither shall the boy be taken, To what place this thing of evil, That destruction may o'ertake him. That the boy may sink and perish?" Then they hung him to an oak-tree, Crucified him in the branches, That the wizard there might perish. When three days and nights had ended, Untamoinen spake as follows: "It is time to send my heralds To inspect the mighty oak-tree, There to learn if young Kullervo Lives or dies among the branches." Thereupon he sent his servants, And the heralds brought this message:


"Young Kullervo has not perished, Has not died among the branches Of the oak-tree where we hung him. In the oak he maketh pictures With a wand between his fingers; Pictures hang from all the branches, Carved and painted by Kullervo; And the heroes, thick as acorns, With their swords and spears adjusted, Fill the branches of the oak-tree, Every leaf becomes a soldier." Who can help the grave Untamo Kill the boy that threatens evil To Untamo's tribe and country, Since he will not die by water, Nor by fire, nor crucifixion? Finally it was decided That his body was immortal, Could not suffer death nor torture. In despair grave Untamoinen Thus addressed the boy, Kullervo:


to live a life


"Wilt thou live a life becoming, Always do my people honor, Should I keep thee in my dwelling? Shouldst thou render servant's duty, Then thou wilt receive thy wages, Reaping whatsoe'er thou sowest; Thou canst wear the golden girdle, Or endure the tongue of censure." When the boy had grown a little, Had increased in strength and stature, He was given occupation, He was made to tend an infant, Made to rock the infant's cradle. These the words of Untamoinen: "Often look upon the young child, Feed him well and guard from danger, Wash his linen in the river, Give the infant good attention." Young Kullervo, wicked wizard, Nurses one day then a second; On the morning of the third day, Gives the infant cruel treatment, Blinds its eyes and breaks its fingers; And when evening shadows gather, Kills the young child while it slumbers, Throws its body to the waters, Breaks and burns the infant's cradle. Untamoinen thus reflected:

unworthy

"Never will this fell Kullervo Be a worthy nurse for children, Cannot rock a babe in safety; Do not know how I can use him, What employment I can give him!" Then he told the young magician He must fell the standing forest, And Kullervo gave this answer: "Only will I be a hero, When I wield the magic hatchet; I am young, and fair, and mighty, Far more beautiful than others, Have the skill of six magicians." Thereupon he sought the blacksmith, This the order of Kullervo: "Listen, O thou metal-artist, Forge for me an axe of copper, Forge the mighty axe of heroes, Wherewith I may fell the forest, Fell the birch, and oak, and aspen." This behest the blacksmith honors, Forges him an axe of copper, Wonderful the blade he forges. Kullerwoinen grinds his hatchet, Grinds his blade from morn till evening, And the next day makes the handle; Then he hastens to the forest, To the upward-sloping mountain, To the tallest of the birches, To the mightiest of oak-trees; There he swings his axe of copper, Swings his blade with might of magic, Cuts with sharpened edge the aspen, With one blow he fells the oak-tree, With a second blow, the linden; Many trees have quickly fallen, By the hatchet of Kullervo. Then the wizard spake as follows: "This the proper work of Lempo, Let dire Hisi fell the forest!" In the birch he sank his hatchet, Made an uproar in the woodlands, Called aloud in tones, of thunder, Whistled to the distant mountains, Till they echoed to his calling, When Kullervo spake as follows:


"May the forest, in the circle Where my voice rings, fall and perish, In the earth be lost forever! May no tree remain unlevelled, May no saplings grow in spring-time, Never while the moonlight glimmers, Where Kullervo's voice has echoed, Where the forest hears my calling; Where the ground with seed is planted, And the grain shall sprout and flourish, May it never come to ripeness, Mar the ears of corn be blasted!" When the strong man, Untamoinen, Went to look at early evening, How Kullervo was progressing, In his labors in the forest; Little was the work accomplished, Was not worthy of a here; Untamoinen thus reflected:


"Young Kullervo is not fitted For the work of clearing forests, Wastes the best of all the timber, To my lands he brings destruction; I shall set him making fences." Then the youth began the building Of a fence for Untamoinen; Took the trunks of stately fir-trees, Trimmed them with his blade for fence-posts, Cut the tallest in the woodlands, For the railing of his fences; Made the smaller poles and cross-bars From the longest of the lindens; Made the fence without a pass-way, Made no wicket in his fences, And Kullervo spake these measures.


"He that does not rise as eagles, Does not sail on wings through ether, Cannot cross Kullervo's pickets, Nor the fences he has builded." Untamoinen left his mansion To inspect the young boy's labors, View the fences of Kullervo; Saw the fence without a pass-way, Not a wicket in his fences; From the earth the fence extended To the highest clouds of heaven. These the words of Untamoinen: "For this work he is not fitted, Useless is the fence thus builded; Is so high that none can cross it, And there is no passage through it: He shall thresh the rye and barley." Young Kullervo, quick preparing Made an oaken flail for threshing, Threshed the rye to finest powder, Threshed the barley into atoms, And the straw to worthless fragments. Untamoinen went at evening, Went to see Kullervo's threshing, View the work of Kullerwoinen; Found the rye was ground to powder, Grains of barley crushed to atoms, And the straw to worthless rubbish. Untamoinen then grew angry, Spake these words in bitter accents:

"Kullerwoinen as a workman Is a miserable failure; Whatsoever work he touches Is but ruined by his witchcraft; I shall carry him to Ehstland, In Karyala I shall sell him To the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, There to swing the heavy hammer." Untamoinen sells Kullervo, Trades him off in far Karyala, To the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, To the master of the metals, This the sum received in payment: Seven worn and worthless sickles, Three old caldrons worse than useless, Three old scythes, and hoes, and axes, Recompense, indeed, sufficient For a boy that will not labor For the good of his employer.




































Death and life



[the best


of friends


and foes]





Kullerwoinen, wizard-servant Of the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Purchased slave from Untamoinen, Magic son with sky-blue stockings, With a head of golden ringlets, In his shoes of marten-leather, Waiting little, asked the blacksmith, Asked the host for work at morning, In the evening asked the hostess, These the words of Kullerwoinen:


"Give me work at early morning, In the evening, occupation, Labor worthy of thy servant." Then the wife of Ilmarinen, Once the Maiden of the Rainbow, Thinking long, and long debating, How to give the youth employment, How the purchased slave could labor; Finally a shepherd made him, Made him keeper of her pastures; But the over-scornful hostess, Baked a biscuit for the herdsman, Baked a loaf of wondrous thickness, Baked the lower-half of oat-meal, And the upper-half of barley, Baked a flint-stone in the centre, Poured around it liquid butter, Then she gave it to the shepherd, Food to still the herdsman's hunger; Thus she gave the youth instructions:

"Do not eat the bread in hunger, Till the herd is in the woodlands!" Then the wife of Ilmarinen Sent her cattle to the pasture, Thus addressing Kullerwoinen: "Drive the cows to yonder bowers, To the birch-trees and the aspens, That they there may feed and fatten, Fill themselves with milk and butter, In the open forest-pastures, On the distant hills and mountains, In the glens among the birch-trees, In the lowlands with the aspens, In the golden pine-tree forests, In the thickets silver-laden.


"Guard them, thou O kind Creator, Shield them, omnipresent Ukko, Shelter them from every danger, And protect them from all evil, That they may not want, nor wander From the paths of peace and plenty. As at home Thou didst protect them In the shelters and the hurdles, Guard them now beneath the heavens, Shelter them in woodland pastures, That the herds may live and prosper To the joy of Northland's hostess, And against the will of Lempo.


"If my herdsman prove unworthy, If the shepherd-maids seem evil, Let the pastures be their shepherds, Let the alders guard the cattle, Make the birch-tree their protector, Let the willow drive them homeward, Ere the hostess go to seek them, Ere the milkmaids wait and worry. Should the birch-tree not protect them, Nor the aspen lend assistance, Nor the linden be their keeper, Nor the willow drive them homeward, Wilt thou give them better herdsmen, Let Creation's beauteous daughters Be their kindly shepherdesses. Thou hast many lovely maidens, Many hundreds that obey thee, In the Ether's spacious circles, Beauteous daughters of creation.


"Summer-daughter, magic maiden, Southern mother of the woodlands, Pine-tree daughter, Kateyatar, Pihlayatar, of the aspen, Alder-maiden, Tapio's daughter, Daughter of the glen, Millikki, And the mountain-maid, Tellervo, Of my herds be ye protectors, Keep them from the evil-minded, Keep them safe in days of summer, In the times of fragrant flowers, While the tender leaves are whispering, While the Earth is verdure-laden.

Summer daughter, mother of the woodlands


"Summer-daughter, charming maiden, Southern mother of the woodlands, Spread abroad thy robes of safety, Spread thine apron o'er the forest, Let it cover all my cattle, And protect the unprotected, That no evil winds may harm them, May not suffer from the storm-clouds. Guard my flocks from every danger, Keep them from the hands of wild-beasts, From the swamps with sinking pathways, From the springs that bubble trouble, From the swiftly running waters, From the bottom of the whirlpool, That they may not find misfortune, May not wander to destruction, In the marshes sink and perish, Though against God's best intentions, Though against the will of Ukko.

from a distance

"From a distance bring a bugle, Bring a shepherd's horn from heaven, Bring the honey-flute of Ukko, Play the music of creation, Blow the pipes of the magician, Play the flowers on the highlands, Charm the hills, and dales, and mount Charm the borders of the forest, Fill the forest-trees with honey, Fill with spice the fountain-borders.


"For my herds give food and shelter, Feed them all on honeyed pastures, Give them drink at honeyed fountains Feed them on thy golden grasses, On the leaves of silver saplings, From the springs of life and beauty, From the crystal-waters flowing, From the waterfalls of Rutya, From the uplands green and golden, From the glens enriched in silver.




Beneath the wintry sun, the Oaken trees of your forest



Dig thou also golden fountains On the four sides of the willow, That the cows may drink in sweetness, And their udders swell with honey, That their milk may flow in streamlets; Let the milk be caught in vessels, Let the cow's gift be not wasted, Be not given to Manala.

"Many are the sons of evil, That to Mana take their milkings, Give their milk to evil-doers, Waste it in Tuoni's empire; Few there are, and they the worthy, That can get the milk from Mana; Never did my ancient mother Ask for counsel in the village, Never in the courts for wisdom; She obtained her milk from Mana, Took the sour-milk from the dealers, Sweet-milk from the greater distance, From the kingdom of Manala, From Tuoni's fields and pastures; Brought it in the dusk of evening, Through the by-ways in the darkness, That the wicked should not know it, That it should not find destruction.


the language of our mother


"This the language of my mother, And these words I also echo: Whither does the cow's gift wander, Whither has the milk departed? Has it gone to feed the strangers, Banished to the distant village, Gone to feed the hamlet-lover, Or perchance to feed the forest, Disappeared within the woodlands, Scattered o'er the hills and mountains, Mingled with the lakes and rivers? It shall never go to Mana, Never go to feed the stranger, Never to the village-lover; Neither shall it feed the forest, Nor be lost upon the mountains, Neither sprinkled in the woodlands, Nor be mingled with the waters; It is needed for our tables, Worthy food for all our children.' Summer-daughter, maid of beauty, Southern daughter of Creation, Give Suotikki tender fodder, To Watikki, give pure water, To Hermikki milk abundant, Fresh provisions to Tuorikki, From Mairikki let the milk flow, Fresh milk from my cows in plenty, Coming from the tips of grasses, From the tender herbs and leaflets, From the meadows rich in honey, From the mother of the forest, From the meadows sweetly dripping, From the berry-laden branches, From the heath of flower-maidens, From the verdure, maiden bowers, From the clouds of milk-providers, From the virgin of the heavens, That the milk may flow abundant From the cows that I have given To the keeping of Kullervo.


"Rise thou virgin of the valley, From the springs arise in beauty, Rise thou maiden of the fountain, Beautiful, arise in ether, Take the waters from the cloudlets, And my roaming herds besprinkle, That my cows may drink and flourish, May be ready for the coming Of the shepherdess of evening. "O Millikki, forest-hostess, Mother of the herds at pasture, Send the tallest of thy servants, Send the best of thine assistants, That my herds may well be guarded, Through the pleasant days of summer, Given us by our Creator.


"Beauteous virgin of the woodlands, Tapio's most charming daughter, Fair Tellervo, forest-maiden, Softly clad in silken raiment, Beautiful in golden ringlets, Do thou give my herds protection, In the Metsola dominions, On the hills of Tapiola; Shield them with thy hands of beauty, Stroke them gently with thy fingers, Give to them a golden lustre, Make them shine like fins of salmon, Grow them robes as soft as ermine.


"When the evening star brings darkness, When appears the hour of twilight, Send my lowing cattle homeward, Milk within their vessels coursing, Water on their backs in lakelets. When the Sun has set in ocean, When the evening-bird is singing, Thus address my herds of cattle:

"Ye that carry horns, now hasten To the sheds of Ilmarinen; Ye enriched in milk go homeward, To the hostess now in waiting, Home, the better place for sleeping, Forest-beds are full of danger; When the evening comes in darkness, Straightway journey to the milkmaids Building fires to light the pathway On the turf enriched in honey, In the pastures berry-laden! "Thou, O Tapio's son, Nyrikki, Forest-son, enrobed in purple, Cut the fir-trees on the mountains, Cut the pines with cones of beauty, Lay them o'er the streams for bridges, Cover well the sloughs of quicksand, In the swamps and in the lowlands, That my herd may pass in safety, On their long and dismal journey, To the clouds of smoke may hasten, Where the milkmaids wait their coming. If the cows heed not this order, Do not hasten home at evening, Then, O service-berry maiden, Cut a birch-rod from the glenwood, From the juniper, a whip-stick, Near to Tapio's spacious mansion, Standing on the ash-tree mountain, Drive my wayward, lowing cattle, Into Metsola's wide milk-yards, When the evening-star is rising.


"Thou, O Otso, forest-apple, Woodland bear, with honeyed fingers, Let us make a lasting treaty, Make a vow for future ages, That thou wilt not kill my cattle, Wilt not eat my milk-providers; That I will not send my hunters To destroy thee and thy kindred, Never in the days of summer, The Creator's warmest season. "Dost thou hear the tones of cow-bells, Hear the calling of the bugles, Ride thyself within the meadow, Sink upon the turf in slumber, Bury both thine ears in clover, Crouch within some alder-thicket Climb between the mossy ledges, Visit thou some rocky cavern, Flee away to other mountains, Till thou canst not hear the cow-bells, Nor the calling of the herdsmen.


"Listen, Otso of the woodlands, Sacred bear with honeyed fingers, To approach the herd of cattle Thou thyself art not forbidden, But thy tongue, and teeth, and fingers, Must not touch my herd in summer, Must not harm my harmless creatures. Go around the scented meadows, Amble through the milky pastures, From the tones of bells and shepherds. should the herd be on the mountain, Go thou quickly to the marshes; Should my cattle browse the lowlands, Sleep thou then within the thicket; Should they feed upon the uplands, Thou must hasten to the valley; Should the herd graze at the bottom, Thou must feed upon the summit.


"Wander like the golden cuckoo, Like the dove of silver brightness, Like a little fish in ocean; Ride thy claws within thy hair-foot, Shut thy wicked teeth in darkness, That my herd may not be frightened, May not think themselves in danger. Leave my cows in peace and plenty, Let them journey home in order, Through the vales and mountain by-ways, Over plains and through the forest, Harming not my harmless creatures.


"Call to mind our former pledges, At the river of Tuoni, Near the waterfall and whirlpool, In the ears of our Creator. Thrice to Otso was it granted, In the circuit of the summer, To approach the land of cow-bells, Where the herdsmen's voices echo; But to thee it was not granted, Otso never had permission To attempt a wicked action, To begin a work of evil. Should the blinding thing of malice Come upon thee in thy roamings, Should thy bloody teeth feel hunger, Throw thy malice to the mountains, And thy hunger to the pine-trees, Sink thy teeth within the aspens, In the dead limbs of the birches, Prune the dry stalks from the willows. Should thy hunger still impel thee, Go thou to the berry-mountain, Eat the fungus of the forest, Feed thy hunger on the ant-hills, Eat the red roots of the bear-tree, Metsola's rich cakes of honey, Not the grass my herd would feed on. Or if Metsola's rich honey Should ferment before the eating, On the hills of golden color, On the mountains filled with silver, There is other food for hunger, Other drink for thirsting Otso, Everlasting will the food be, And the drink be never wanting.


"Let us now agree in honor, And conclude a lasting treaty That our lives may end in pleasure, May be, merry in the summer, Both enjoy the woods in common, Though our food must be distinctive Shouldst thou still desire to fight me, Let our contests be in winter, Let our wars be, on the snow-fields. Swamps will thaw in days of summer, Warm, the water in the rivers. Therefore shouldst thou break this treaty, Shouldst thou come where golden cattle Roam these woodland hills and valleys, We will slay thee with our cross-bows; Should our arrow-men be absent, We have here some archer-women, And among them is the hostess, That can use the fatal weapon, That can bring thee to destruction, Thus will end the days of trouble That thou bringest to our people, And against the will of Ukko.

"Ukko, ruler in the heavens, Lend an ear to my entreaty, Metamorphose all my cattle, Through the mighty force of magic, Into stumps and stones convert them, If the enemy should wander, Near my herd in days of summer. "If I had been born an Otso, I would never stride and amble At the feet of aged women; Elsewhere there are hills and valleys, Farther on are honey-pastures, Where the lazy bear may wander, Where the indolent may linger; Sneak away to yonder mountain, That thy tender flesh may lessen, In the blue-glen's deep recesses, In the bear-dens of the forest, Thou canst move through fields of acorns, Through the sand and ocean-pebbles, There for thee is tracked a pathway, Through the woodlands on the sea-coast, To the Northland's farthest limits, To the dismal plains of Lapland, There 'tis well for thee to lumber, There to live will be a pleasure. Shoeless there to walk in summer, Stockingless in days of autumn, On the blue-back of the mountain, Through the swamps and fertile lowlands.


"If thou canst not journey thither, Canst not find the Lapland-highway, Hasten on a little distance, In the bear-path leading northward. To the grove of Tuonela, To the honey-plains of Kalma, Swamps there are in which to wander, Heaths in which to roam at pleasure, There are Kiryos, there are Karyos, And of beasts a countless number, With their fetters strong as iron, Fattening within the forest. Be ye gracious, groves and mountains, Full of grace, ye darksome thickets, Peace and, plenty to my cattle, Through the pleasant days of summer, The Creator's warmest season.


"Knippana, O King of forests, Thou the gray-beard of the woodlands, Watch thy dogs in fen and fallow, Lay a sponge within one nostril, And an acorn in the other, That they may not scent my cattle; Tie their eyes with silken fillets, That they may not see my herdlings, May not see my cattle grazing.


"Should all this seem inefficient, Drive away thy barking children, Let them run to other forests, Let them hunt in other marshes, From these verdant strips of meadow, From these far outstretching borders, Hide thy dogs within thy caverns, Firmly tie thy yelping children, Tie them with thy golden fetters, With thy chains adorned with silver, That they may not do me damage,' May not do a deed of mischief. Should all this prove inefficient, Thou, O Ukko, King of heaven. Wise director, full of mercy, Hear the golden words I utter, Hear a voice that breathes affection, From the alder make a muzzle, For each dog, within the kennel; Should the alder prove too feeble, Cast a band of purest copper; Should the copper prove a failure, Forge a band of ductile iron; Should the iron snap asunder, In each nose a small-ring fasten, Made of molten gold and silver, Chain thy dogs in forest-caverns, That my herd may not be injured. Then the wife of Ilmarinen, Life-companion of the blacksmith, Opened all her yards and stables, Led her herd across the meadow, Placed them in the herdman's keeping, In the care of Kullerwoinen.




































In this river



[hunt


forever]





Thereupon the lad, Kullervo, Laid his luncheon in his basket, Drove the herd to mountain-pastures, O'er the hills and through the marshes, To their grazings in the woodlands, Speaking as he careless wandered: "Of the youth am I the poorest, Hapless lad and full of trouble, Evil luck to me befallen! I alas! must idly wander O'er the hills and through the valleys, As a watch-dog for the cattle!" Then she sat upon the greensward, In a sunny spot selected, Singing, chanting words as follow:


"Shine, O shine, thou Sun of heaven, Cast thy rays, thou fire of Ukko, On the herdsman of the blacksmith, On the head of Kullerwoinen, On this poor and luckless shepherd, Not in Ilmarinen's smithy, Nor the dwellings of his people; Good the table of the hostess, Cuts the best of wheaten biscuit, Honey-cakes she cuts in slices, Spreading each with golden butter; Only dry bread has the herdsman, Eats with pain the oaten bread-crusts,' Filled with chaff his and biscuit, Feeds upon the worst of straw-bread, Pine-tree bark, the broad he feeds on, Sipping water from the birch-bark, Drinking from the tips of grasses I Go, O Sun, and go, O barley, Haste away, thou light of Ukko, Hide within the mountain pine-trees, Go, O wheat, to yonder thickets, To the trees of purple berries, To the junipers and alders, Safely lead the herdsman homeward To the biscuit golden-buttered, To the honeyed cakes and viands!" While the shepherd lad was singing Kullerwoinen's song and echo, Ilmarinen's wife was feasting On the sweetest bread of Northland, On the toothsome cakes of barley, On the richest of provisions; Only laid aside some cabbage, For the herdsman, Kullerwoinen; Set apart some wasted fragments, Leavings of the dogs at dinner, For the shepherd, home returning. From the woods a bird came flying, Sang this song to Kullerwoinen:


"'Tis the time for forest-dinners, For the fatherless companion Of the herds to eat his viands, Eat the good things from his basket!" Kullerwoinen heard the songster, Looked upon the Sun's long shadow, Straightway spake the words that follow: "True, the singing of the song-bird, It is time indeed for feasting, Time to eat my basket-dinner." Thereupon young Kullerwoinen Called his herd to rest in safety, Sat upon a grassy hillock, Took his basket from his shoulders, Took therefrom the and oat-loaf, Turned it over in his fingers, Carefully the loaf inspected, Spake these words of ancient wisdom:

"Many loaves are fine to look on, On the outside seem delicious, On the inside, chaff and tan-bark!" Then the shepherd, Kullerwoinen, Drew his knife to cut his oat-loaf, Cut the hard and arid biscuit; Cuts against a stone imprisoned, Well imbedded in the centre, Breaks his ancient knife in pieces; When the shepherd youth, Kullervo, Saw his magic knife had broken, Weeping sore, he spake as follows:


"This, the blade that I bold sacred, This the one thing that I honor, Relic of my mother's people! On the stone within this oat-loaf, On this cheat-cake of the hostess, I my precious knife have broken. How shall I repay this insult, How avenge this woman's malice, What the wages for deception?" From a tree the raven answered: "O thou little silver buckle, Only son of old Kalervo, Why art thou in evil humor, Wherefore sad in thy demeanor? Take a young shoot from the thicket, Take a birch-rod from the valley, Drive thy herd across the lowlands, Through the quicksands of the marshes; To the wolves let one half wander, To the bear-dens, lead the other; Sing the forest wolves together, Sing the bears down from the mountains, Call the wolves thy little children, And the bears thy standard-bearers; Drive them like a cow-herd homeward, Drive them home like spotted cattle, Drive them to thy master's milk-yards; Thus thou wilt repay the hostess For her malice and derision."




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



Thereupon the wizard answered, These the words of Kullerwoinen: "Wait, yea wait, thou bride of Hisi! Do I mourn my mother's relic, Mourn the keep-sake thou hast broken? Thou thyself shalt mourn as sorely When thy, cows come home at evening!" From the tree he cuts a birch-wand, From the juniper a whip-stick, Drives the herd across the lowlands, Through the quicksands of the marshes, To the wolves lets one half wander, To the bear-dens leads the other; Calls the wolves his little children, Calls the bears his standard-bearers, Changes all his herd of cattle Into wolves and bears by magic. In the west the Sun is shining, Telling that the night is coming. Quick the wizard, Kullerwoinen, Wanders o'er the pine-tree mountain, Hastens through the forest homeward, Drives the wolves and bears before him Toward the milk-yards of the hostess; To the herd he speaks as follows, As they journey on together:


the wicked hostess


"Tear and kill the wicked hostess, Tear her guilty flesh in pieces, When she comes to view her cattle, When she stoops to do her milking!" Then the wizard, Kullerwoinen, From an ox-bone makes a bugle, Makes it from Tuonikki's cow-horn, Makes a flute from Kiryo's shin-bone, Plays a song upon his bugle, Plays upon his flute of magic, Thrice upon the home-land hill-tops, Six times near the coming gate-ways. Ilmarinen's wife and hostess Long had waited for the coming Of her herd with Kullerwoinen, Waited for the milk at evening, Waited for the new-made butter, Heard the footsteps in the cow-path, On the heath she beard the bustle, Spake these joyous words of welcome:

"Be thou praised, O gracious Ukko, That my herd is home returning! But I hear a bugle sounding, 'Tis the playing of my herdsman, Playing on a magic cow-horn, Bursting all our ears with music!" Kullerwoinen, drawing nearer, To the hostess spake as follows: "Found the bugle in the woodlands, And the flute among the rushes; All thy herd are in the passage, All thy cows within the hurdles, This the time to build the camp-fire, This the time to do the milking!" Ilmarinen's wife, the hostess, Thus addressed an aged servant:


"Go, thou old one, to the milking, Have the care of all my cattle, Do not ask for mine assistance, Since I have to knead the biscuit." Kullerwoinen spake as follows:

"Always does the worthy hostess, Ever does the wisdom-mother Go herself and do the milking, Tend the cows within the hurdles!" Then the wife of Ilmarinen Built a field-fire in the passage, Went to milk her cows awaiting, Looked upon her herd in wonder, Spake these happy words of greeting:

"Beautiful, my herd of cattle, Glistening like the skins of lynxes, Hair as soft as fur of ermine, Peaceful waiting for the milk-pail!" On the milk-stool sits the hostess, Milks one moment, then a second, Then a third time milks and ceases; When the bloody wolves disguising, Quick attack the hostess milking, And the bears lend their assistance, Tear and mutilate her body With their teeth and sharpened fingers. Kullerwoinen, cruel wizard, Thus repaid the wicked hostess, Thus repaid her evil treatment. Quick the wife of Ilmarinen Cried aloud in bitter anguish, Thus addressed the youth, Kullervo:


"Evil son, thou bloody herdsman, Thou hast brought me wolves in malice, Driven bears within my hurdles! These the words of Kullerwoinen: "Have I evil done as shepherd, Worse the conduct of the hostess; Baked a stone inside my oat-cake, On the inside, rock and tan-bark, On the stone my knife, was broken, Treasure of my mother's household, Broken virtue of my people!" Ilmarinen's wife made answer: "Noble herdsman, Kullerwoinen, Change, I pray thee, thine opinion, Take away thine incantations, From the bears and wolves release me, Save me from this spell of torture I will give thee better raiment, Give the best of milk and butter, Set for thee the sweetest table; Thou shalt live with me in welcome, Need not labor for thy keeping. If thou dost not free me quickly, Dost not break this spell of magic, I shall sink into the Death-land, Shall return to Tuonela." This is Kullerwoinen's answer:


"It is best that thou shouldst perish, Let destruction overtake thee, There is ample room in Mana, Room for all the dead in Kalma, There the worthiest must slumber, There must rest the good and evil." Ilmarinen's wife made answer:


"Ukko, thou O God in heaven, Span the strongest of thy cross-bows, Test the weapon by thy wisdom, Lay an arrow forged from copper, On the cross-bow of thy forging; Rightly aim thy flaming arrow, With thy magic hurl the missile, Shoot this wizard through the vitals, Pierce the heart of Kullerwoinen With the lightning of the heavens, With thine arrows tipped with copper." Kullerwoinen prays as follows:


"Ukko, God of truth and justice. Do not slay thy magic servant, Slay the wife of Ilmarinen, Kill in her the worst of women, In these hurdles let her perish, Lest she wander hence in freedom, To perform some other mischief, Do some greater deed of malice!" Quick as lightning fell the hostess, Quick the wife of Ilmarinen Fell and perished in the hurdles, On the ground before her cottage Thus the death of Northland's hostess, Cherished wife of Ilmarinen, Once the Maiden of the Rainbow, Wooed and watched for many summers, Pride and joy of Kalevala!





































Here me roar



[for I


will


one day Fall]





Kullerwoinen, young magician, In his beauteous, golden ringlets, In his magic shoes of deer-skin, Left the home of Ilmarinen Wandered forth upon his journey, Ere the blacksmith heard the tidings Of the cruel death and torture Of his wife and joy-companion, Lest a bloody fight should follow. Kullerwoinen left the smithy, Blowing on his magic bugle, Joyful left the lands of Ilma, Blowing blithely on the heather, Made the distant hills re-echo, Made the swamps and mountains tremble, Made the heather-blossoms answer To the music of his cow-horn, In its wild reverberations, To the magic of his playing. Songs were heard within the smithy, And the blacksmith stopped and listened, Hastened to the door and window, Hastened to the open court-yard, If perchance he might discover What was playing on the heather, What was sounding through the forest. Quick he learned the cruel story, Learned the cause of the rejoicing, Saw the hostess dead before him, Knew his beauteous wife had perished, Saw the lifeless form extended, In the court-yard of his dwelling. Thereupon the metal-artist Fell to bitter tears and wailings, Wept through all the dreary night-time, Deep the grief that settled o'er him, Black as night his darkened future, Could not stay his tears of sorrow. Kullerwoinen hastened onward, Straying, roaming, hither, thither, Wandered on through field and forest, O'er the Hisi-plains and woodlands. When the darkness settled o'er him, When the bird of night was flitting, Sat the fatherless at evening, The forsaken sat and rested On a hillock of the forest. Thus he murmured, heavy-hearted:


the forgotten

"Why was I, alas! created, Why was I so ill-begotten, Since for months and years I wander, Lost among the ether-spaces? Others have their homes to dwell in, Others hasten to their firesides As the evening gathers round them: But my home is in the forest, And my bed upon the heather, And my bath-room is the rain-cloud.

"Never didst thou, God of mercy, Never in the course of ages, Give an infant birth unwisely; Wherefore then was I created, Fatherless to roam in ether, Motherless and lone to wander? Thou, O Ukko, art my father, Thou hast given me form and feature; As the sea-gull on the ocean, As the duck upon the waters, Shines the Sun upon the swallow, Shines as bright upon the sparrow, Gives the joy-birds song and gladness, Does not shine on me unhappy; Nevermore will shine the sunlight, Never will the moonlight glimmer On this hapless son and orphan; Do not know my hero-father, Cannot tell who was my mother; On the shore, perhaps the gray-duck Left me in the sand to perish. Young was I and small of stature, When my mother left me orphaned; Dead, my father and my mother, Dead, my honored tribe of heroes; Shoes they left me that are icy, Stockings filled with frosts of ages, Let me on the freezing ice-plains Fall to perish in the rushes; From the giddy heights of mountains Let me tumble to destruction.

"O, thou wise and good Creator, Why my birth and what my service? I shall never fall and perish On the ice-plains, in the marshes, Never be a bridge in swamp-land, Not while I have arms of virtue That can serve my honored kindred!" Then Kullervo thought to journey To the village of Untamo, To avenge his father's murder, To avenge his mother's tortures, And the troubles of his tribe-folk. These the words of Kullerwoinen: "Wait, yea wait, thou Untamoinen, Thou destroyer of my people; When I meet thee in the combat, I will slay thee and thy kindred, I will burn thy homes to ashes!" Came a woman on the highway, Dressed in blue, the aged mother, To Kullervo spake as follows:


"Whither goest, Kullerwoinen, Whither hastes the wayward hero? Kullerwoinen gave this answer: "I have thought that I would journey To the far-off land of strangers, To the village of Untamo, To avenge my father's murder, To avenge my mother's tortures, And the troubles of my tribe-folk." Thus the gray-haired woman answered: "Surely thou dost rest in error, For thy tribe has never perished, And thy mother still is living With thy father in the Northland, Living with the old Kalervo."

"O, thou ancient dame beloved, Worthy mother of the woodlands, Tell me where my father liveth, Where my loving mother lingers!" "Yonder lives thine aged father, And thy loving mother with him, On the farthest shore of Northland, On the long-point of the fish-lake!" "Tell me, O thou woodland-mother, How to journey to my people, How to find mine honored tribe-folk." "Easy is the way for strangers: Thou must journey through the forest, Hasten to the river-border, Travel one day, then a second, And the third from morn till even, To the north-west, thou must journey.




before the wild and the snow, there is your autumn



If a mountain comes to meet thee, Go around the nearing mountain, Westward bold thy weary journey, Till thou comest to a river, On thy right hand flowing eastward; Travel to the river border, Where three water-falls will greet thee; When thou comest to a headland, On the point thou'lt see a cottage Where the fishermen assemble; In this cottage is thy father, With thy mother and her daughters, Beautiful thy maiden sisters." Kullerwoinen, the magician, Hastens northward on his journey, Walks one day, and then a second, Walks the third from morn till evening; To the north-west walks Kullervo, Till a mountain comes to meet him, Walks around the nearing mountain; Westward, westward, holds his journey, Till he sees a river coming; Hastens to the river border, Walks along the streams and rapids Till three waterfalls accost him; Travels till he meets a headland, On the point he spies a cottage, Where the fishermen assemble. Quick he journeys to the cabin, Quick he passes through the portals Of the cottage on the headland, Where he finds his long-lost kindred; No one knows the youth, Kullervo, No one knows whence comes the stranger, Where his home, nor where he goeth. These the words of young Kullervo:


was I a stranger by now

"Dost thou know me not, my mother, Dost thou know me not, my father? I am hapless Kullerwoinen Whom the heroes of Untamo Carried to their distant country, When my height was but a hand-breadth." Quick the hopeful mother answers: "O my worthy son, beloved, O my precious silver-buckle, Hast thou with thy mind of magic, Wandered through the fields of Northland Searching for thy home and kindred? As one dead I long have mourned thee, Had supposed thee, in Manala. Once I had two sons and heroes, Had two good and beauteous daughters, Two of these have long been absent, Elder son and elder daughter; For the wars my son departed, While my daughter strayed and perished If my son is home returning, Yet my daughter still is absent, Kullerwoinen asked his mother:


"Whither did my sister wander, What direction did she journey? This the answer of the mother: "This the story of thy sister: Went for berries to the woodlands, To the mountains went my daughter, Where the lovely maiden vanished, Where my pretty berry perished, Died some death beyond my knowledge, Nameless is the death she suffered. Who is mourning for the daughter? No one mourns her as her mother, Walks and wanders, Mourns and searches, For her fairest child and daughter; Therefore did the mother wander, Searching for thy lovely sister, Like the bear she roamed the forest, Ran the glenways like the adder, Searched one day and then a second, Searched the third from morn till even, Till she reached the mountain-summit, There she called and called her daughter, Till the distant mountains answered, Called to her who had departed: I Where art thou, my lovely maiden, Come my daughter to thy mother!' "Thus I called, and sought thy sister, This the answer of the mountains, Thus the hills and valleys echoed: 'Call no more, thou weeping mother, Weep no more for the departed; Nevermore in all thy lifetime, Never in the course of ages, Will she join again her kindred, At her brother's landing-places, In her father's humble dwelling.'"





































my sister



[missed


in


the wilderness]





Kullerwionen, youthful wizard, In his blue and scarlet stockings, Henceforth lingered with his parents; But he could not change his nature, Could not gain a higher wisdom, Could not win a better judgment; As a child he was ill-nurtured, Early rocked in stupid cradles, By a nurse of many follies, By a minister of evil. To his work went Kullerwoinen, Strove to make his labors worthy; First, Kullervo went a-fishing, Set his fishing-nets in ocean; With his hands upon the row-locks, Kullerwoinen spake as follows:


"Shall I pull with all my forces, Pull with strength of youthful heroes, Or with weakness of the aged?" From the stern arose a gray-beard, And he answered thus Kullervo: "Pull with all thy youthful vigor; Shouldst thou row with magic power, Thou couldst not destroy this vessel, Couldst not row this boat to fragments." Thereupon the youth, Kullervo, Rowed with all his youthful vigor, With the mighty force of magic, Rowed the bindings from the vessel, Ribs of juniper he shattered, Rowed the aspen-oars to pieces. When the aged sire, Kalervo, Saw the work of Kullerwoinen, He addressed his son as follows:


"Dost not understand the rowing; Thou hast burst the bands asunder, Bands of juniper and willow, Rowed my aspen-boat to pieces; To the fish-nets drive the salmon, This, perchance, will suit thee better." Thereupon the son, Kullervo, Hastened to his work as bidden, Drove the salmon to the fish-nets, Spake in innocence as follows:


"Shall I with my youthful vigor Scare the salmon to the fish-nets, Or with little magic vigor Shall I drive them to their capture? Spake the master of the fish-nets: "That would be but work of women, Shouldst thou use but little power In the frighting of the salmon!" Kullerwoinen does as bidden, Scares the salmon with the forces Of his mighty arms and shoulders, With the strength of youth and magic, Stirs the water thick with black-earth, Beats the scare-net into pieces, Into pulp he beats the salmon. When the aged sire, Kalervo, Saw the work of Kullerwoinen, To his son these words he uttered:


"Dost not understand this labor, For this work thou art not suited, Canst not scare the perch and salmon To the fish-nets of thy father; Thou hast ruined all my fish-nets, Torn my scare-net into tatters, Beaten into pulp the whiting, Torn my net-props into fragments, Beaten into bits my wedges. Leave the fishing to another; See if thou canst pay the tribute, Pay my yearly contribution; See if thou canst better travel, On the way show better judgment!" Thereupon the son, Kullervo, Hapless youth in purple vestments, In his magic shoes of deer-skin, In his locks of golden color, Sallied forth to pay the taxes, Pay the tribute for his people. When the youth had paid the tribute, Paid the yearly contribution, He returned to join the snow-sledge, Took his place upon the cross-bench, Snapped his whip above the courser, And began his journey homeward; Rattled on along the highway, Measured as he galloped onward Wainamoinen's hills and valleys, And his fields in cultivation. Came a golden maid to meet him, On her snow-shoes came a virgin, O'er the hills of Wainamoinen, O'er his cultivated lowlands. Quick the wizard-son, Kullervo, Checked the motion of his racer, Thus addressed the charming maiden


"Come, sweet maiden, to my snow-sledge, In my fur-robes rest and linger!" As she ran, the maiden answered: "Let the Death-maid sit beside thee, Rest and linger in thy fur-robes!" Thereupon the youth, Kullervo, Snapped his whip above the courser; Fleet as wind he gallops homeward, Dashes down along the highway; With the roar of falling waters, Gallops onward, onward, onward, O'er the broad-back of the ocean, O'er the icy plains of Lapland.




through the wild and snow



Comes a winsome maid to meet him, Golden-haired, and wearing snow-shoes, On the far outstretching ice-plains; Quick the wizard checks his racer, Charmingly accosts the maiden, Chanting carefully these measures:


"Come, thou beauty, to my snow-sledge, Hither come, and rest, and linger! Tauntingly the maiden answered: "Take Tuoni to thy snow-sledge, At thy side let Manalainen Sit with thee, and rest, and linger!" Quick the wizard, Kullerwoinen, Struck his fiery, prancing racer, With the birch-whip of his father. Like the lightning flew the fleet-foot, Galloped on the highway homeward; O'er the hills the snow-sledge bounded, And the coming mountains trembled. Kullerwoinen, wild magician, Measures, on his journey homeward, Northland's far-extending borders, And the fertile plains of Pohya. Comes a beauteous maid to meet him, With a tin-pin on her bosom, On the heather of Pohyola, O'er the Pohya-hills and moorlands. Quick the wizard son, Kullervo, Holds the bridle of his courser, Charmingly intones these measures:


"Come, fair maiden, to my snow-sledge, In these fur-robes rest, and linger; Eat with me the golden apples, Eat the hazel-nut in joyance, Drink with me the beer delicious, Eat the dainties that I give thee." This the answer of the maiden With the tin-pin on her bosom:


"I have scorn to give thy snow-sledge, Scorn for thee, thou wicked wizard; Cold is it beneath thy fur-robes, And thy sledge is chill and cheerless. Thereupon the youth, Kullervo, Wicked wizard of the Northland, Drew the maiden to his snow-sledge, Drew her to a seat beside him, Quickly in his furs enwrapped her; And the tin-adorned made answer, These the accents of the maiden: "Loose me from thy magic power, Let me leave at once thy presence, Lest I speak in wicked accents, Lest I say the prayer of evil; Free me now as I command thee, Or I'll tear thy sledge to pieces, Throw these fur-robes to the north-winds." Straightway wicked Kullerwoinen, Evil wizard and magician, Opens all his treasure-boxes, Shows the maiden gold and silver, Shows her silken wraps of beauty, Silken hose with golden borders, Golden belts with silver buckles, Jewelry that dims the vision, Blunts the conscience of the virgin. Silver leads one to destruction, Gold entices from uprightness. Kullerwoinen, wicked wizard, Flatters lovingly the maiden, One hand on the reins of leather, One upon the maiden's shoulder; Thus they journey through the evening, Pass the night in merry-making. When the day-star led the morning, When the second day was dawning, Then the maid addressed Kullervo, Questioned thus the wicked wizard:


"Of what tribe art thou descended, Of what race thy hero-father? Tell thy lineage and kindred.` This, Kullervo's truthful answer: "Am not from a mighty nation, Not the greatest, nor the smallest, But my lineage is worthy: Am Kalervo's son of folly, Am a child of contradictions, Hapless son of cold misfortune. Tell me of thy race of heroes, Tell thine origin and kindred." This the answer of the maiden:


"Came not from a race primeval, Not the largest, nor the smallest, But my lineage is worthy; Am Kalervo's wretched daughter, Am his long-lost child of error, Am a maid of contradictions, Hapless daughter of misfortune. "When a child I lived in plenty In the dwellings of my mother; To the woods I went for berries, Went for raspberries to uplands, Gathered strawberries on mountains, Gathered one day then a second; But, alas! upon the third day, Could not find the pathway homeward, Forestward the highways led me, All the footpaths, to the woodlands. Long I sat in bitter weeping, Wept one day and then a second, Wept the third from morn till even. Then I climbed a. lofty mountain, There I called in wailing accents, And the woodlands gave this answer, Thus the distant hills re-echoed: 'Call no longer, foolish virgin, All thy calls and tears are useless; There is none to give thee answer, Far away, thy home and people.'


"On the third and on the fourth days, On the fifth, and sixth, and seventh, Constantly I sought to perish; But in vain were all my efforts, Could not die upon the mountains. If this wretched maid had perished, In the summer of the third year, She had fed earth's vegetation, She had blossomed as a flower, Knowing neither pain nor sorrow." Scarcely had the maiden spoken, When she bounded from the snow-sledge, Rushed upon the rolling river, To the cataract's commotion, To the fiery stream and whirlpool. Thus Kullervo's lovely sister Hastened to her own destruction, To her death by fire and water, Found her peace in Tuonela, In the sacred stream of Mana. Then the wicked Kullerwoinen Fell to weeping, sorely troubled, Wailed, and wept, and heavy-hearted, Spake these words in bitter sorrow:


life, a hard fate it was

"Woe is me, my life hard-fated! I have slain my virgin-sister, Shamed the daughter of my mother; Woe to thee, my ancient father! Woe to thee, my gray-haired mother! Wherefore was I born and nurtured, Why this hapless child's existence? Better fate to Kullerwoinen, Had he never seen the daylight, Or, if born, had never thriven In these mournful days of evil! Death has failed to do his duty, Sickness sinned in passing by me, Should have slain me in the cradle, When the seventh day had ended!" Thereupon he slips the collar Of his prancing royal racer, Mounts the silver-headed fleet-foot, Gallops like the lightning homeward; Gallops only for a moment, When he halts his foaming courser At the cabin of his father. In the court-yard stood the mother, Thus the wicked son addressed her:


"Faithful mother, fond and tender, Hadst thou slain me when an infant, Smoked my life out in the chamber, In a winding-sheet hadst thrown me To the cataract and whirlpool, In the fire hadst set my cradle, After seven nights had ended, Worthy would have been thy service. Had the village-maidens asked thee: 'Where is now the little cradle, Wherefore is the bath-room empty?' This had been a worthy answer: 'I have burned the wizard's cradle, Cast the infant to the fire-dogs; In the bath-room corn is sprouting, From the barley malt is brewing.'" Thereupon the aged mother Asks her wizard-son these questions: "What has happened to my hero, What new fate has overcome thee? Comest thou as from Tuoni, From the castles of Manala?" This, Kullervo's frank confession:


"Infamous the tale I bring thee, My confession is dishonor: On the way I met a maiden, Met thy long-lost, wayward daughter, Did not recognize my sister, Fatal was the sin committed! When the taxes had been settled, When the tribute had been gathered, Came a matchless maid to meet me, Whom I witless led to sorrow, This my mother's long-lost daughter. When she saw in me her brother, Quick she bounded from the snow-sledge, Hastened to the roaring waters, To the cataract's commotion, To the fiery stream and whirlpool, Hastened to her full destruction.


"Now, alas! must I determine, Now must find a spot befitting, Where thy sinful son may perish; Tell me, all-forgiving mother, Where to end my life of trouble; Let me stop the black-wolf's howling, Let me satisfy the hunger Of the vicious bear of Northland; Let the shark or hungry sea-dog Be my dwelling-place hereafter!" This the answer of the mother:

"Do not go to stop the howling "Do not go to stop the howling Of the hungry wolf of Northland; Do not haste to still the black-bear Growling in his forest-cavern; Let not shark, nor vicious sea-dog Be thy dwelling-place hereafter. Spacious are the rooms of Suomi, Limitless the Sawa-borders, Large enough to hide transgression, Man's misdeeds to hide for ages, With his sins and evil actions. Six long years man's sins lie hidden In the border-land of Kalma, Even nine for magic heroes, Till the years bring consolation, Till they quiet all his mourning." Kullerwoinen, wicked wizard, Answers thus his grieving mother: "I can never hide from sorrow, Cannot flee from my misconduct; To the jaws of death I hasten, To the open courts of Kalma, To the hunting-grounds of Pohya, To the battle-fields of heroes. Untamoinen still is living, Unmolested roams the wicked, Unavenged my father's grievance, Unavenged my mother's tortures, Unavenged the wrongs I suffer!"





































War



[upon

his

domain]





Kullerwionen, wicked wizard, In his purple-colored stockings, Now prepares himself for battle; Grinds a long time on his broadsword, Sharpens well his trusty weapon, And his mother speaks as follows:


my son beloved

"Do not go, my son beloved, Go not to the wars, my hero, Struggle not with hostile spearsmen. Whoso goes to war for nothing, Undertakes a fearful combat, Undertakes a fatal issue; Those that war without a reason Will be slaughtered for their folly, Easy prey to bows and arrows. Go thou with a goat to battle, Shouldst thou go to fight the roebuck, 'Tis the goat that will be vanquished, And the roebuck will be slaughtered; With a frog thou'lt journey homeward, Victor, with but little honor!" These the words of Kullerwoinen: "Shall not journey through the marshes, Shall not sink upon the heather, On the home-land of the raven, Where the eagles scream at day-break. When I yield my life forever, Bravely will I fall in battle, Fall upon the field of glory, Beautiful to die in armor, And the clang and clash of armies, Beautiful the strife for conquest! Thus Kullervo soon will hasten To the kingdom of Tuoni, To the realm of the departed, Undeformed by wasting sickness." This the answer of the mother: "If thou diest in the conflict, Who will stay to guard thy father, Who will give thy sire protection?" These the words of Kullerwoinen: "Let him die upon the court-yard, Sleeping out his life of sorrow!"


"Who then will protect thy mother, Be her shield in times of danger?" "Let her die within the stable, Or the cabin where she lingers!" "Who then will defend thy brother, Give him aid in times of trouble?" "Let him die within the forest, Sleep his life away unheeded!" "Who will comfort then thy sister, Who will aid her in affliction?"


"Let her sink beneath the waters, Perish in the crystal fountain, Where the brook flows on in beauty, Like a silver serpent winding Through the valley to the ocean!" Thereupon the wild Kullervo Hastens from his home to battle, To his father speaks, departing: "Fare thou well, my aged father! Wilt thou weep for me, thy hero, When thou hearest I have perished, Fallen from thy tribe forever, Perished on the field of glory?" Thus the father speaks in answer:


"I shall never mourn the downfall Of my evil son, Kullervo; Shall not weep when thou hast perished; Shall beget a second hero That will do me better service, That will think and act in wisdom." Kullerwoinen gives this answer: "Neither shall I mourn thy downfall, Shall not weep when thou hast perished; I shall make a second father, Make the head from loam and sandstone, Make the eyes from swamp-land berries, Make the beard from withered sea-grass, Make the feet from roots of willow, Make the form from birch-wood fungus." Thereupon the youth, Kullervo, To his brother speaks as follows:


"Fare thou well, beloved brother! Wilt thou weep for me departed, Shouldst thou hear that I have perished, Fallen on the field of battle?" This the answer of the brother: "I shall never mourn the downfall Of my brother, Kullerwoinen, Shall not weep when thou hast perished; I shall find a second brother; Find one worthier and wiser!" This is Kullerwoinen's answer:


"Neither shall I mourn thy downfall, Shall not weep when thou hast perished; I shall form a second brother, Make the head from dust and ashes, Make the eyes from pearls of ocean, Make the beard from withered verdure, Make the form from pulp of birch-wood." To his sister speaks Kullervo: "Fare thou well, beloved sister! Surely thou wilt mourn my downfall, Weep for me when I have perished, When thou hearest I have fallen In the heat and din of battle, Fallen from thy race forever!" But the sister makes this answer:


"Never shall I mourn thy downfall, Shall not weep when thou hast perished; I shall seek a second brother, Seek a brother, purer, better, One that will not shame his sister!" Kullerwoinen thus makes answer: "Neither shall I mourn thee fallen, Shall not weep when thou hast perished; I shall form a second sister, Make the head from whitened marble, Make the eyes from golden moonbeams, Make the tresses from the rainbow, Make the ears from ocean-flowers, And her form from gold and silver.


"Fare thou well, beloved mother, Mother, beautiful and faithful! Wilt thou weep when I have perished, Fallen on the field of glory, Fallen from thy race forever?" Thus the mother speaks in answer: "Canst not fathom love maternal, Canst not smother her affection; Bitterly I'll mourn thy downfall, I would weep if thou shouldst perish, Shouldst thou leave my race forever; I would weep in court or cabin, Sprinkle all these fields with tear-drops, Weep great rivers to the ocean, Weep to melt the snows of Northland, Make the hillocks green with weeping, Weep at morning, weep at evening, Weep three years in bitter sorrow O'er the death of Kullerwoinen!" Thereupon the wicked wizard Went rejoicing to the combat; In delight to war he hastened O'er the fields, and fens, and fallows, Shouting loudly on the heather, Singing o'er the hills and mountains, Rushing through the glens and forests, Blowing war upon his bugle.




From the sky, black eyes and white light



Time had gone but little distance, When a messenger appearing, Spake these words to Kullerwoinen: "Lo! thine aged sire has perished, Fallen from thy race forever; Hasten home and do him honor, Lay him in the lap of Kalma." Kullerwoinen inade this answer: "Has my aged father perished, There is home a sable stallion That will take him to his slumber, Lay him in the lap of Kalma." Then Kullervo journeyed onward, Calling war upon his bugle, Till a messenger appearing, Brought this word to Kullerwoinen:


"Lo! thy brother too has perished, Dead he lies within the forest, Manalainen's trumpet called him; Home return and do him honor, Lay him in the lap of Kalma." Kullerwoinen thus replying: "Has my hero-brother perished, There is home a sable stallion That will take him' to his slumber, Lay him in the lap of Kalma." Young Kullervo journeyed onward Over vale and over mountain, Playing on his reed of battle, Till a messenger appearing Brought the warrior these tidings:


"Lo! thy sister too has perished, Perished in the crystal fountain, Where the waters flow in beauty, Like a silver serpent winding Through the valley to the ocean; Home return and do her honor, Lay her in the lap of Kalma." These the words of Kullerwoinen: "Has my beauteous sister perished, Fallen from my race forever, There is home a sable filly That will take her to her resting, Lay her in the lap of Kalma." Still Kullervo journeyed onward, Through the fens he went rejoicing, Sounding war upon his bugle, Till a messenger appearing Brought to him these words of sorrow:


"Lo! thy mother too has perished, Died in anguish, broken-hearted; Home return and do her honor, Lay her in the lap of Kalma." These the measures of Kullervo: "Woe is me, my life hard-fated, That my mother too has perished, She that nursed me in my cradle, Made my couch a golden cover, Twirled for me the spool and spindle! Lo! Kullervo was not present When his mother's life departed; May have died upon the mountains, Perished there from cold and hunger. Lave the dead form of my mother In the crystal waters flowing; Wrap her in the robes of ermine, Tie her hands with silken ribbon, Take her to the grave of ages, Lay her in the lap of Kalma. Bury her with songs of mourning, Let the singers chant my sorrow; Cannot leave the fields of battle While Untamo goes unpunished, Fell destroyer of my people." Kullerwoinen journeyed onward, Still rejoicing, to the combat, Sang these songs in supplication:


"Ukko, mightiest of rulers, Loan to me thy sword of battle, Grant to me thy matchless weapon, And against a thousand armies I will war and ever conquer." Ukko, gave the youth his broadsword, Gave his blade of magic powers To the wizard, Kullerwoinen. Thus equipped, the mighty hero Slew the people of Untamo, Burned their villages to ashes; Only left the stones and ovens, And the chimneys of their hamlets. Then the conqueror, Kullervo, Turned his footsteps to his home-land, To the cabin of his father; To his ancient fields and forests. Empty did he find the cabin, And the forests were deserted; No one came to give him greeting, None to give the hand of welcome; Laid his fingers on the oven, But he found it cold and lifeless; Then he knew to satisfaction That his mother lived no longer; Laid his hand upon the fire-place, Cold and lifeless were the hearth-stones; Then he knew to satisfaction That his sister too had perished; Then he sought the landing-places, Found no boats upon the rollers; Then he knew to satisfaction That his brother too had perished; Then he looked upon the fish-nets, And he found them torn and tangled; And he knew to satisfaction That his father too had perished. Bitterly he wept and murmured, Wept one day, and then a second, On the third day spake as follows:


a touch of sorrow

"Faithful mother, fond and tender, Why hast left me here to sorrow In this wilderness of trouble? But thou dost not hear my calling, Though I sing in magic accents, Though my tear-drops speak lamenting, Though my heart bemoans thine absence. From her grave awakes the mother, To Kullervo speaks these measures:

"Thou has still the dog remaining, He will lead thee to the forest; Follow thou the faithful watcher, Let him lead thee to the woodlands, To the farthest woodland border, To the caverns of the wood-nymphs; Kullerwoinen's Victory and Death There the forest maidens linger, They will give thee food and shelter, Give my hero joyful greetings." Kullerwoinen, with his watch-dog, Hastens onward through the forest, Journeys on through fields and fallows; Journeys but a little distance, Till he comes upon the summit Where he met his long-lost sister; Finds the turf itself is weeping, Finds the glen-wood filled with sorrow, Finds the heather shedding tear-drops, Weeping are the meadow-flowers, O'er the ruin of his sister. Kullerwoinen, wicked wizard, Grasps the handle of his broadsword, Asks the blade this simple question: "Tell me, O my blade of honor, Dost thou wish to drink my life-blood, Drink the blood of Kullerwoinen?" Thus his trusty sword makes answer, Well divining his intentions: Why should I not drink thy life-blood, Blood of guilty Kullerwoinen, Since I feast upon the worthy, Drink the life-blood of the righteous?" Thereupon the youth, Kullervo, Wicked wizard of the Northland, Lifts the mighty sword of Ukko, Bids adieu to earth and heaven; Firmly thrusts the hilt in heather, To his heart he points the weapon, Throws his weight upon his broadsword, Pouring out his wicked life-blood, Ere be journeys to Manala. Thus the wizard finds destruction, This the end of Kullerwoinen, Born in sin, and nursed in folly. Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, As he hears the joyful tidings, Learns the death of fell Kullervo, Speaks these words of ancient wisdom:


"O, ye many unborn nations, Never evil nurse your children, Never give them out to strangers, Never trust them to the foolish! If the child is not well nurtured, Is not rocked and led uprightly, Though he grow to years of manhood, Bear a strong and shapely body, He will never know discretion, Never eat. the bread of honor, Never drink the cup of wisdom."





































through death



[and ruin


to


light of day]





Ilmarinen, metal-worker, Wept one day, and then a second, Wept the third from morn till evening, O'er the death of his companion, Once the Maiden of the Rainbow; Did not swing his heavy hammer, Did not touch its copper handle, Made no sound within his smithy, Made no blow upon his anvil, Till three months had circled over; Then the blacksmith spake as follows:

the whining hero

"Woe is me, unhappy hero! Do not know how I can prosper; Long the days, and cold, and dreary, Longer still the nights, and colder; I am weary in the evening, In the morning still am weary, Have no longing for the morning, And the evening is unwelcome; Have no pleasure in the future, All my pleasures gone forever, With my faithful life-companion Slaughtered by the hand of witchcraft! Often will my heart-strings quiver When I rest within my chamber, When I wake at dreamy midnight, Half-unconscious, vainly searching For my noble wife departed." Wifeless lived the mourning blacksmith, Altered in his form and features; Wept one month and then another, Wept three months in full succession. Then the magic metal-worker Gathered gold from deeps of ocean, Gathered silver from the mountains, Gathered many heaps of birch-wood. Filled with faggots thirty sledges, Burned the birch-wood into ashes, Put the ashes in the furnace, Laid the gold upon the embers, Lengthwise laid a piece of silver Of the size of lambs in autumn, Or the fleet-foot hare in winter; Places servants at the bellows, Thus to melt the magic metals. Eagerly the servants labor, Gloveless, hatless, do the workmen Fan the flames within the furnace. Ilmarinen, magic blacksmith, Works unceasing at his forging, Thus to mould a golden image, Mould a bride from gold and silver; But the workmen fail their master, Faithless stand they at the bellows. Wow the artist, Ilmarinen, Fans the flame with force of magic, Blows one day, and then a second, Blows the third from morn till even; Then he looks within the furnace, Looks around the oven-border, Hoping there to see an image Rising from the molten metals. Comes a lambkin from the furnace, Rising from the fire of magic, Wearing hair of gold and copper, Laced with many threads of silver; All rejoice but Ilmarinen At the beauty of the image. This the language of the blacksmith:


"May the wolf admire thy graces; I desire a bride of beauty Born from molten gold and silver!" Ilmarinen, the magician, To the furnace threw the lambkin; Added gold in great abundance, And increased the mass of silver, Added other magic metals, Set the workmen at the bellows; Zealously the servants labor, Gloveless, hatless, do the workmen Fan the flames within the furnace. Ilmarinen, wizard-forgeman, Works unceasing with his metals, Moulding well a golden image, Wife of molten gold and silver; But the workmen fail their master, Faithless do they ply the bellows. Now the artist, Ilmarinen, Fans the flames by force of magic; Blows one day, and then a second, Blows a third from morn till evening, When he looks within the furnace, Looks around the oven-border, Hoping there, to see an image Rising from the molten metals. From the flames a colt arises, Golden-maned and silver-headed, Hoofs are formed of shining copper. All rejoice but Ilmarinen At the wonderful creation; This the language of the blacksmith;


"Let the bears admire thy graces; I desire a bride of beauty Born of many magic metals." Thereupon the wonder-forger Drives the colt back to the furnace, Adds a greater mass of silver, And of gold the rightful measure, Sets the workmen at the bellows. Eagerly the servants labor, Gloveless, hatless, do the workmen Fan the flames within the furnace. Ilmarinen, the magician, Works unceasing at his witchcraft, Moulding well a golden maiden, Bride of molten gold and silver; But the workmen fail their master, Faithlessly they ply the bellows. Now the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Fans the flames with magic powers, Blows one day, and then a second, Blows a third from morn till even; Then he looks within his furnace, Looks around the oven-border, Trusting there to see a maiden Coming from the molten metals. From the fire a virgin rises, Golden-haired and silver-headed, Beautiful in form and feature.




there are no victories known to battle, only tears and sorrow



All are filled with awe and wonder, But the artist and magician. Ilmarinen, metal-worker, Forges nights and days unceasing, On the bride of his creation; Feet he forges for the maiden, Hands and arms, of gold and silver; But her feet are not for walking, Neither can her arms embrace him. Ears he forges for the virgin, But her ears are not for hearing; Forges her a mouth of beauty, Eyes he forges bright and sparkling; But the magic mouth is speechless, And the eyes are not for seeing. Spake the artist, Ilmarinen:


"This, indeed, a priceless maiden, Could she only speak in wisdom, Could she breathe the breath of Ukko!" Thereupon he lays the virgin On his silken couch of slumber, On his downy place of resting. Ilmarinen heats his bath-room, Makes it ready for his service, Binds together silken brushes, Brings three cans of crystal water, Wherewithal to lave the image, Lave the golden maid of beauty. When this task had been completed, Ilmarinen, hoping, trusting, Laid his golden bride to slumber, On his downy couch of resting; Ordered many silken wrappings, Ordered bear-skins, three in number, Ordered seven lambs-wool blankets, Thus to keep him warm in slumber, Sleeping by the golden image Re had forged from magic metals. Warm the side of Ilmarinen That was wrapped in furs and blankets; Chill the parts beside the maiden, By his bride of gold and silver; One side warm, the other lifeless, Turning into ice from coldness. Spake the artist, Ilmarinen:


"Not for me was born this virgin From the magic molten metals; I shall take her to Wainola, Give her to old Wainamoinen, As a bride and life-companion, Comfort to him in his dotage." Ilmarinen, much disheartened, Takes the virgin to Wainola, To the plains of Kalevala, To his brother speaks as follows:


"O, thou ancient Wainamoinen, Look with favor on this image; Make the maiden fair and lovely, Beautiful in form and feature, Suited to thy years declining!" Wainamoinen, old and truthful, Looked in wonder on the virgin, On the golden bride of beauty, Spake these words to Ilmarinen: "Wherefore dost thou bring this maiden, Wherefore bring to Wainamoinen Bride of molten gold and silver? Spake in answer Ilmarinen: "Wherefore should I bring this image, But for purposes the noblest? I have brought her as companion To thy life in years declining, As a joy and consolation, When thy days are full of trouble!" Spake the good, old Wainamoinen:


"Magic brother, wonder-forger, Throw the virgin to the furnace, To the flames, thy golden image, Forge from her a thousand trinkets. Take the image into Ehstland, Take her to the plains of Pohya, That for her the mighty powers May engage in deadly contest, Worthy trophy for the victor; Not for me this bride of wonder, Neither for my worthy people. I shall never wed an image Born from many magic metals, Never wed a silver maiden, Never wed a golden virgin." Then the hero of the waters Called together all his people, Spake these words of ancient wisdom:


"Every child of Northland, listen, Whether poor, or fortune-favored: Never bow before an image Born of molten gold and silver: Never while the sunlight brightens, Never while the moonlight glimmers, Choose a maiden of the metals, Choose a bride from gold created Cold the lips of golden maiden, Silver breathes the breath of sorrow."





































no victories



[battle knows


but tears


And sorrow]





Ilmarinen, the magician, The eternal metal-artist, Lays aside the golden image, Beauteous maid of magic metals; Throws the harness on his courser, Binds him to his sledge of birch-wood, Seats himself upon the cross-bench, Snaps the whip above the racer, Thinking once again to journey To the mansions of Pohyola, There to woo a bride in honor, Second daughter of the Northland. On he journeyed, restless, northward, Journeyed one day, then a second, So the third from morn till evening, When he reached a Northland-village On the plains of Sariola. Louhi, hostess of Pohyola, Standing in the open court-yard, Spied the hero, Ilmarinen, Thus addressed the metal-worker:


life that prosper

"Tell me how my child is living, How the Bride of Beauty prospers, As a daughter to thy mother." Then the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Head bent down and brow dejected, Thus addressed the Northland hostess:

"O, thou dame of Sariola, Do not ask me of thy daughter, Since, alas I in Tuonela Sleeps the Maiden of the Rainbow, Sleeps in death the Bride, of Beauty, Underneath the fragrant heather, In the kingdom of Manala. Come I for a second daughter, For the fairest of thy virgins. Beauteous hostess of Pohyola, Give to me thy youngest maiden, For my former wife's compartments, For the chambers of her sister." Louhi, hostess of the Northland, Spake these words to Ilmarinen:


"Foolish was the Northland-hostess, When she gave her fairest virgin, In the bloom of youth and beauty To the blacksmith of Wainola, Only to be led to Mana, Like a lambkin to the slaughter! I shall never give my daughter, Shall not give my youngest maiden Bride of thine to be hereafter, Life-companion at thy fireside. Sooner would I give the fair one To the cataract and whirlpool, To the river of Manala, To the waters of Tuoni!" Then the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Drew away his head, disdainful, Shook his sable locks in anger, Entered to the inner court-room, Where the maiden sat in waiting, Spake these measures to the daughter:

"Come with me, thou bright-eyed maiden, To the cottage where thy sister Lived and lingered in contentment, Baked for me the toothsome biscuit, Brewed for me the beer of barley, Kept my dwelling-place in order." On the floor a babe was lying, Thus he sang to Ilmarinen: "Uninvited, leave this mansion, Go, thou stranger, from this dwelling; Once before thou camest hither, Only bringing pain and trouble, Filling all our hearts with sorrow. Fairest daughter of my mother, Do not give this suitor welcome, Look not on his eyes with pleasure, Nor admire his form and features. In his mouth are only wolf-teeth, Cunning fox-claws in his mittens, In his shoes art only bear-claws, In his belt a hungry dagger; Weapons these of blood and murder, Only worn by the unworthy." Then the daughter spake as follows To the blacksmith, Ilmarinen:

bright eyed maiden

"Follow thee this maid will never, Never heed unworthy suitors; Thou hast slain the Bride of Beauty, Once the Maiden of the Rainbow, Thou wouldst also slay her sister. I deserve a better suitor, Wish a truer, nobler husband, Wish to ride in richer sledges, Have a better home-protection; Never will I sweep the cottage And the coal-place of a blacksmith." Then the hero, Ilmarinen, The eternal metal-artist, Turned his head away, disdainful, Shook his sable locks in anger, Quickly seized the trembling maiden, Held her in his grasp of iron, Hastened from the court of Louhi To his sledge upon the highway.




to leave the bed of trouble



In his sleigh he seats the virgin, Snugly wraps her in his far-robes, Snaps his whip above the racer, Gallops on the high-road homeward; With one hand the reins be tightens, With the other holds the maiden. Speaks the virgin-daughter, weeping: We have reached the lowland-berries, Here the herbs of water-borders; Leave me here to sink and perish As a child of cold misfortune. Wicked Ilmarinen, listen! If thou dost not quickly free me, I will break thy sledge to pieces, Throw thy fur-robes to the north-winds." Ilmarinen makes this answer:

"When the blacksmith builds his snow-sledge, All the parts are hooped with iron; Therefore will the beauteous maiden Never beat my sledge to fragments." Then the silver-tinselled daughter Wept and wailed in bitter accents, Wrung her hands in desperation, Spake again to Ilmarinen:


"If thou dost not quickly free me, I shall change to ocean-salmon, Be a whiting of the waters." "Thou wilt never thus escape me, As a pike I'll fleetly follow." Then the maiden of Pohyola Wept and wailed in bitter accents, Wrung her hands in desperation, Spake again to Ilmarinen;

"If thou dost not quickly free me, I shall hasten to the forest, Mid the rocks become an ermine!" "Thou wilt never thus escape me, As a serpent I will follow." Then the beauty of the Northland, Wailed and wept in bitter accents, Wrung her hands in desperation, Spake once more to Ilmarinen:

"Surely, if thou dost not free me, As a lark I'll fly the ether, Hide myself within the storm-clouds." "Neither wilt thou thus escape me, As an eagle I will follow." They had gone but little distance, When the courser shied and halted, Frighted at some passing object; And the maiden looked in wonder, In the snow beheld some foot-prints, Spake these words to Ilmarinen: Who has run across our highway?"


"'Tis the timid hare", he answered. Thereupon the stolen maiden Sobbed, and moaned, in deeps of sorrow, Heavy-hearted, spake these measures:


"Woe is me, ill-fated virgin! Happier far my life hereafter, If the hare I could but follow To his burrow in the woodlands! Crook-leg's fur to me is finer Than the robes of Ilmarinen." Ilmarinen, the magician, Tossed his head in full resentment, Galloped on the highway homeward, Travelled but a little distance, When again his courser halted, Frighted at some passing stranger. Quick the maiden looked and wondered, In the snow beheld some foot-prints, Spake these measures to the blacksmith: Who has crossed our snowy pathway?"


"'Tis a fox", replied the minstrel. Thereupon the beauteous virgin Moaned again in depths of anguish, Sang these accents, heavy-hearted: "Woe is me, ill-fated maiden! Happier far my life hereafter, With the cunning fox to wander, Than with this ill-mannered suitor; Reynard's fur to me is finer Than the robes of Ilmarinen." Thereupon the metal-worker Shut his lips in sore displeasure, Hastened on the highway homeward; Travelled but a little distance, When again his courser halted. Quick the maiden looked in wonder, in the snow beheld some foot-prints, Spake these words to the magician: Who again has crossed our pathway?"


"'Tis the wolf", said Ilmarinen. Thereupon the fated daughter Fell again to bitter weeping, And Intoned these words of sorrow:


"Woe is me, a hapless maiden! Happier far my life hereafter, Brighter far would be my future, If these tracks I could but follow; On the wolf the hair is finer Than the furs of Ilmarinen, Faithless suitor of the Northland." Then the minstrel of Wainola Closed his lips again in anger, Shook his sable locks, resentful, Snapped the whip above the racer, And the steed flew onward swiftly, O'er the way to Kalevala, To the village of the blacksmith. Sad and weary from his journey, Ilmarinen, home-returning, Fell upon his couch in slumber, And the maiden laughed derision. In the morning, slowly waking, Head confused, and locks dishevelled, Spake the wizard, words as follow:


"Shall I set myself to singing Magic songs and incantations? Shall I now enchant this maiden To a black-wolf on the mountains, To a salmon of the ocean? Shall not send her to the woodlands, All the forest would be frighted; Shall not send her to the waters, All the fish would flee in terror; This my sword shall drink her life-blood, End her reign of scorn and hatred." Quick the sword feels his intention, Quick divines his evil purpose, Speaks these words to Ilmarinen:


"Was not born to drink the life-blood Of a maiden pure and lovely, Of a fair but helpless virgin." Thereupon the magic minstrel, Filled with rage, began his singing; Sang the very rocks asunder, Till the distant hills re-echoed; Sang the maiden to a sea-gull, Croaking from the ocean-ledges, Calling from the ocean-islands, Screeching on the sandy sea-coast, Flying to the winds opposing. When his conjuring had ended, Ilmarinen joined his snow-sledge, Whipped his steed upon a gallop, Hastened to his ancient smithy, To his home in Kalevala. Wainamoinen, old and truthful, Comes to meet him on the highway, Speaks these words to the magician:


"Ilmarinen, worthy brother, Wherefore comest heavy-hearted From the dismal Sariola? Does Pohyola live and prosper? Spake the minstrel, Ilmarinen: "Why should not Pohyola prosper? There the Sampo grinds unceasing, Noisy rocks the lid in colors; Grinds one day the flour for eating, Grinds the second flour for selling, Grinds the third day flour for keeping; Thus it is Pohyola prospers. While the Sampo is in Northland, There is plowing, there is sowing, There is growth of every virtue, There is welfare never-ending." Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:


"Ilmarinen, artist-brother, Where then is the Northland-daughter, Far renowned and beauteous maiden, For whose hand thou hast been absent? These the words of Ilmarinen: "I have changed the hateful virgin To a sea-gull on the ocean; Now she calls above the waters, Screeches from the ocean-islands; On the rocks she calls and murmurs Vainly calling for a suitor."





































Laughter



[across


the river


And mountain]





Wainamoinen, old and faithful, Spake these words to Ilmarinen: "O thou wonder-working brother, Let us go to Sariola, There to gain the magic Sampo, There to see the lid in colors." Ilmarinen gave this answer: "Hard indeed to seize the Sampo, Neither can the lid be captured From the never-pleasant Northland, From the dismal Sariola. Louhi took away the Sampo, Carried off the lid in colors To the stone-mount of Pohyola; Hid it in the copper mountain, Where nine locks secure the treasure. Many young roots sprout around it, Grow nine fathoms deep in sand-earth, One great root beneath the mountain, In the cataract a second, And a third beneath the castle Built upon the mount of ages." Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:


"Brother mine, and wonder-worker, Let us go to Sariola, That we may secure the Sampo; Let us build a goodly vessel, Bring the Sampo to Wainola, Bring away the lid in colors, From the stone-berg of Pohyola, From the copper-bearing mountain. Where the miracle lies anchored." Ilmarinen thus made answer:


"By the land the way is safer, Lempo travels on the ocean, Ghastly Death upon his shoulder; On the sea the waves will drift us, And the storm-winds wreck our vessel; Then our bands must do the rowing, And our feet must steer us homeward." Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:


"Safe indeed by land to journey, But the way is rough and trying, Long the road and full of turnings; Lovely is the ship on ocean, Beautiful to ride the billows, Journey easy o'er the waters, Sailing in a trusty vessel; Should the West-wind cross our pathway, Will the South-wind drive us northward. Be that as it may, my brother, Since thou dost not love the water, By the land then let us journey. Forge me now the sword of battle, Forge for me the mighty fire-sword, That I may destroy the wild-beasts, Frighten all the Northland people, As we journey for the Sampo To the cold and dismal village, To the never-pleasant Northland, To the dismal Sariola." Then the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, The eternal forger-artist, Laid the metals in the furnace, In the fire laid steel and iron, In the hot-coals, gold and silver, Rightful measure of the metals; Set the workmen at the furnace, Lustily they plied the bellows. Like the wax the iron melted, Like the dough the hard steel softened, Like the water ran the silver, And the liquid gold flowed after. Then the minstrel, Ilmarinen, The eternal wonder-forger, Looks within his magic furnace, On the border of his oven, There beholds the fire-sword forming, Sees the blade with golden handle; Takes the weapon from the furnace, Lays it on his heavy anvil For the falling of the hammer; Forges well the blade of magic, Well the heavy sword be tempers, Ornaments the hero-weapon With the finest gold and silver. Wainamoinen, the magician, Comes to view the blade of conquest, Lifts admiringly the fire-sword, Then these words the hero utters:


a match of weapons and soldiers

"Does the weapon match the soldier, Does the handle suit the bearer? Yea, the blade and hilt are molded To the wishes of the minstrel." On the sword-point gleams the moonlight, On the blade the sun is shining, On the hilt the bright stars twinkle, On the edge a horse is neighing, On the handle plays a kitten, On the sheath a dog is barking. Wainamoinen wields his fire-sword, Tests it on the iron-mountain, And these words the hero utters: "With this broadsword I could quickly Cleave in twain the mount of Pohya, Cut the flinty rocks asunder." Spake the blacksmith, Ilmarinen: "Wherewith shall I guard from danger, How protect myself from evil, From the ills by land and water? Shall I wear an iron armor, Belt of steel around my body? Stronger is a man in armor, Safer in a mail of copper." Now the time has come to journey To the never-pleasant Northland; Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, And his brother, Ilmarinen, Hasten to the field and forest, Searching for their fiery coursers, In each shining belt a bridle, With a harness on their shoulders. In the woods they find a race; In the glen a steed of battle, Ready for his master's service. Wainamoinen, old and trusty, And the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Throw the harness on the courser, Hitch him to the sledge of conquest, Hasten on their journey Northward; Drive along the broad-sea's margin Till they bear some one lamenting On the strand hear something wailing Near the landing-place of vessels. Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Speaks these words in wonder, guessing,


"This must be some maiden weeping, Some fair daughter thus lamenting; Let us journey somewhat nearer, To discover whence this wailing."




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



Drew they nearer, nearer, nearer, Hoping thus to find a maiden Weeping on the sandy sea-shore. It was not a maiden weeping, But a vessel, sad, and lonely, Waiting on the shore and wailing. Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:

"Why art weeping, goodly vessel, What the cause of thy lamenting? Art thou mourning for thy row-locks, Is thy rigging ill-adjusted? Dost thou weep since thou art anchored On the shore in times of trouble?" Thus the war-ship spake in answer: "To the waters would this vessel Haste upon the well-tarred rollers, As a happy maiden journeys To the cottage of her husband. I, alas! a goodly vessel, Weep because I lie at anchor, Weep and wail because no hero Sets me free upon the waters, Free to ride the rolling billows. It was said when I was fashioned, Often sung when I was building, That this bark should be for battle, Should become a mighty war-ship, Carry in my hull great treasures, Priceless goods across the ocean. Never have I sailed to conquest, Never have I carried booty; Other vessels not as worthy To the wars are ever sailing, Sailing to the songs of battle. Three times in the summer season Come they home with treasures laden, In their hulls bring gold and silver; I, alas! a worthy vessel, Many months have lain at anchor, I, a war-ship well constructed, Am decaying in the harbor, Never having sailed to conquest; Worms are gnawing at my vitals, In my hull their dwelling-places, And ill-omened birds of heaven Build their nests within my rigging; Frogs and lizards of the forest Play about my oars and rudder; Three times better for this vessel Were he but a valley birch-tree, Or an aspen on the heather, With the squirrels in his branches, And the dogs beneath them barking!" Wainamoinen, old and faithfull Thus addressed the ship at anchor:


"Weep no more, thou goodly vessel, Man-of-war, no longer murmur; Thou shalt sail to Sariola, Sing the war-songs of the Northland, Sail with us to deadly combat. Wert thou built by the Creator, Thou canst sail the roughest waters, Sidewise journey o'er the ocean; Dost not need the hand to touch thee, Dost not need the foot to turn thee, Needing nothing to propel thee." Thus the weeping boat made answer:


"Cannot sail without assistance, Neither can my brother-vessels Sail unaided o'er the waters, Sail across the waves undriven." Spake the ancient Wainamoinen: "Should I lead thee to the broad-sea, Wilt thou journey north unaided, Sail without the help of rowers, Sail without the aid of south-winds, Sail without the b elm to guide thee? Thus the wailing ship replying: Cannot sail without assistance, Neither can my brother-vessels Sail without the aid of rowers, Sail without the help of south-winds, Nor without the helm to guide them." These the words of Wainamoinen:


"Wilt thou run with aid of oarsmen When the south-winds give assistance, Guided by a skillful pilot?" This the answer of the war-ship: "Quickly can I course these waters, When my oars are manned by rowers, When my sails are filled with south-winds, All my goodly brother-vessels Sail the ocean with assistance, When the master holds the rudder." Then the ancient Wainamoinen Left the racer on the sea-side, Tied him to the sacred birch-tree, Hung the harness on a willow, Rolled the vessel to the waters, Sang the ship upon the broad-sea, Asked the boat this simple question:


"O thou vessel, well-appearing From the mighty oak constructed, Art thou strong to carry treasures As in view thou art commanding? Thus the goodly ship made answer:


"Strong am I to carry treasures, In my hull a golden cargo; I can bear a hundred oarsmen, And of warriors a thousand." Wainamoinen, the magician, Then began his wondrous singing. On one side the magic vessel, Sang he youth with golden virtues, Bearded youth with strength of heroes, Sang them into mail of copper. On the other side the vessel, Sang he silver-tinselled maidens, Girded them with belts of copper, Golden rings upon their fingers. Sings again the great magician, Fills the magic ship with heroes, Ancient heroes, brave and mighty; Sings them into narrow limits, Since the young men came before them. At the helm himself be seated, Near the last beam of the vessel, Steered his goodly boat in joyance, Thus addressed the willing war-ship:


"Glide upon the trackless waters, Sail away, my ship of magic, Sail across the waves before thee, Speed thou like a dancing bubble, Like a flower upon the billows!" Then the ancient Wainamoinen Set the young men to the rowing, Let the maidens sit in waiting. Eagerly the youthful heroes Bend the oars and try the row-locks, But the distance is not lessened. Then the minstrel, Wainamoinen, Set the maidens to the rowing, Let the young men rest in waiting. Eagerly the merry maidens Bend the aspen-oars in rowing, But the distance is not lessened. Then the master, Wainamoinen, Set the old men to the rowing, Let the youth remain in waiting. Lustily the aged heroes Bend and try the oars of aspen, But the distance is not lessened. Then the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Grasped the oars with master-magic, And the boat leaped o'er the surges, Swiftly sped across the billows; Far and wide the oars resounded, Quickly was the distance lessened. With a rush and roar of waters Ilmarinen sped his vessel, Benches, ribs, and row-locks creaking, Oars of aspen far resounding; Flap the sails like wings of moor-cocks, And the prow dips like a white-swan; In the rear it croaks like ravens, Loud the oars and rigging rattle. Straightway ancient Wainamoinen Sitting by the bending rudder, Turns his magic vessel landward, To a jutting promontory, Where appears a Northland-village. On the point stands Lemminkainen, Kaukomieli, black magician, Ahti, wizard of Wainola, Wishing for the fish of Pohya, Weeping for his fated dwelling, For his perilous adventures, Hard at work upon a vessel, On the sail-yards of a fish-boat, Near the hunger-point and island, Near the village-home deserted. Good the ears of the magician, Good the wizard's eyes for seeing; Casts his vision to the South-east, Turns his eyes upon the sunset, Sees afar a wondrous rainbow, Farther on, a cloudlet hanging; But the bow was a deception, And the cloudlet a delusion; 'Tis a vessel swiftly sailing, 'Tis a war-ship flying northward, O'er the blue-back of the broad-sea, On the far-extending waters, At the helm the master standing, At the oars a mighty hero. Spake the reckless Lemminkainen:


Wondrous vessel

"Do not know this wondrous vessel, Not this well-constructed war-ship, Coming from the distant Suomi, Rowing for the hostile Pohya." Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Called aloud in tones of thunder O'er the waters to the vessel; Made the distant hills re-echo With the music of his calling: "Whence this vessel on the waters, Whose the war-ship sailing hither?" Spake the master of the vessel To the reckless Lemminkainen: "Who art thou from fen or forest, Senseless wizard from the woodlands, That thou dost not know this vessel, Magic war-ship of Wainola? Dost not know him at the rudder, Nor the hero at the row-locks?" Spake the wizard, Lemminkainen:

"Well I know the helm-director, And I recognize the rower; Wainamoinen, old and trusty, At the helm directs the vessel; Ilmarinen does the rowing. Whither is the vessel sailing, Whither wandering, my heroes? Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:

"We are sailing to the Northland, There to gain the magic Sampo, There to get the lid in colors, From the stone-berg of Pohyola, From the copper-bearing mountain." Spake the evil Lemminkainen:

"O, thou good, old Wainamoinen, Take me with thee to Pohyola, Make me third of magic heroes, Since thou goest for the Sampo, Goest for the lid in colors; I shall prove a valiant soldier, When thy wisdom calls for fighting; I am skilled in arts of warfare!" Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Gave assent to Ahti's wishes; Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Hastened to Wainola's war-ship, Bringing floats of aspen-timber, To the ships of Wainamoinen. Thus the hero of the Northland Speaks to reckless Lemminkainen:


"There is aspen on my vessel, Aspen-floats in great abundance, And the boat is heavy-laden. Wherefore dost thou bring the aspen To the vessel of Wainola?" Lemminkainen gave this answer:

"Not through caution sinks a vessel, Nor a hay-stack by its proppings; Seas abound in hidden dangers, Heavy storms arise and threaten Fell destruction to the sailor That would brave the angry billows." Spake the good, old Wainamoinen:

"Therefore is this warlike vessel Built of trusty steel and copper, Trimmed and bound in toughest iron, That the winds may, not destroy it, May not harm my ship of magic."





































the



[worthless


gods


above us]





Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Onward steered his goodly vessel, From the isle of Lemminkainen, From the borders of the village; Steered his war-ship through the waters, Sang it o'er the ocean-billows, Joyful steered it to Pohyola. On the banks were maidens standing, And the daughters spake these measures:

"List the music on the waters! What this wonderful rejoicing, What this singing on the billows? Far more beautiful this singing, This rejoicing on the waters, Than our ears have heard in Northland." Wainamoinen, the magician, Steered his wonder-vessel onward, Steered one day along the sea-shore, Steered the next through shallow waters, Steered the third day through the rivers. Then the reckless Lemminkainen Suddenly some words remembered, He had heard along the fire-stream Near the cataract and whirlpool, And these words the hero uttered:


"Cease, O cataract, thy roaring, Cease, O waterfall, thy foaming! Maidens of the foam and current, Sitting on the rocks in water, On the stone-blocks in the river, Take the foam and white-capped billows In your arms and still their anger, That our ships may pass in safety! Aged dame beneath the eddy, Thou that livest in the sea-foam, Swimming, rise above the waters, Lift thy head above the whirlpool, Gather well the foam and billows In thine arms and still their fury, That our ship may pass in safety! Ye, O rocks beneath the current, Underneath the angry waters, Lower well your heads of danger, Sink below our magic vessel, That our ship may pass in safety!


"Should this prayer prove inefficient, Kimmo, hero son of Kammo, Bore an outlet with thine auger, Cut a channel for this vessel Through the rocks beneath the waters, That our ship may pass in safety! Should all this prove unavailing, Hostess of the running water, Change to moss these rocky ledges, Change this vessel to an air-bag, That between these rocks and billows It may float, and pass in safety!

"Virgin of the sacred whirlpool, Thou whose home is in the river, Spin from flax of strongest fiber, Spin a thread of crimson color, Draw it gently through the water, That the thread our ship may follow, And our vessel pass in safety! Goddess of the helm, thou daughter Of the ocean-winds and sea-foam, Take thy helm endowed with mercy, Guide our vessel through these dangers, Hasten through these floods enchanted, Passing by the house of envy, By the gates of the enchanters, That our ship may pass in safety!


"Should this prayer prove inefficient, Ukko, Ruler of creation, Guide our vessel with thy fire-sword, Guide it with thy blade of lightning, Through the dangers of these rapids, Through the cataract and whirlpool, That our ship may pass in safety!" Thereupon old Wainamoinen Steered his boat through winds and waters, Through the rocky chinks and channels, Through the surges wildly tossing; And the vessel passed in safety Through the dangers of the current, Through the sacred stream and whirlpool. As it gains the open waters, Gains at length the broad-lake's bosom, Suddenly its motion ceases, On some object firmly anchored. Thereupon young Ilmarinen, With the aid of Lemminkainen, Plunges in the lake the rudder, Struggles with the aid of magic; But he cannot move the vessel, Cannot free it from its moorings. Wainamoinen, old and truthful, Thus addresses his companion:


"O thou hero, Lemminkainen, Stoop and look beneath this war-ship, See on what this boat is anchored, See on what our craft is banging, In this broad expanse of water, In the broad-lake's deepest soundings, If upon some rock or tree-snag, Or upon some other hindrance." Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Looked beneath the magic vessel, Peering through the crystal waters, Spake and these the words be uttered:


"Does not rest upon a sand-bar, Nor upon a rock, nor tree-snag, But upon the back and shoulders Of the mighty pike of Northland, On the fin-bones of the monster." Wainamoinen, old and trusty, Spake these words to Lemminkainen: "Many things we find in water, Rocks, and trees, and fish, and sea-duck; Are we on the pike's broad shoulders, On the fin-bones of the monster, Pierce the waters with thy broadsword, Cut the monster into pieces." Thereupon wild Lemminkainen, Reckless wizard, filled with courage, Pulls his broadsword from his girdle, From its sheath, the bone-divider, Strikes with might of magic hero, Headlong falls into the water; And the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Lifts the wizard from the river, Speaks these words to dripping Ahti:


"Accidents will come to mortals, Accidents will come to heroes, By the hundreds, by the thousands, Even to the gods above us!"




to leave the bed of trouble



Then the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Drew his broadsword from his girdle, From its sheath his blade of honor, Tried to slay the pike of Northland With the weapon of his forging; But he broke his sword in pieces, Did not harm the water-monster. Wainamoinen, old and trusty, Thus addresses his companions


Apologies and heroes

"Poor apologies for heroes! When occasion calls for victors, When we need some great magician, Need a hero filled with valor, Then the arm that comes is feeble, And the mind insane or witless, Strength and reason gone to others!" Straightway ancient Wainamoinen, Miracle of strength and wisdom, Draws his fire-sword from his girdle, Wields the mighty blade of magic, Strikes the waters as the lightning, Strikes the pike beneath the vessel, And impales, the mighty monster; Raises him above the surface, In the air the pike he circles, Cuts the monster into pieces; To the water falls the pike-tail, To the ship the head and body; Easily the ship moves onward. Wainamoinen, old and faithful, To the shore directs his vessel, On the strand the boat he anchors, Looks in every nook and corner For the fragments of the monster; Gathers well the parts together, Speaks these words to those about him:


"Let the oldest of the heroes Slice for me the pike of Northland, Slice the fish to fitting morsels." Answered all the men and heroes, And the maidens spake, assenting: "Worthier the catcher's fingers, Wainamoinen's hands are sacred!" Thereupon the wise magician Drew a fish-knife from his girdle, Sliced the pike to fitting morsels, Spake again to those about him: "Let the youngest of the maidens Cook for me the pike of Northland, Set for me a goodly dinner!" All the maidens quick responded, All the virgins vied in cooking; Neither could outdo the other, Thus the pike was rendered toothsome. Feasted all the old magicians, Feasted all the younger heroes, Feasted all the men and maidens; On the rocks were left the fish-bones, Only relics of their feasting. Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Looked upon the pile of fragments, On the fish-bones looked and pondered, Spake these words in meditation:


"Wondrous things might be constructed From the relies of this monster, Were they in the blacksmith's furnace, In the hands of the magician, In the hands of Ilmarinen." Spake the blacksmith of Wainola: "Nothing fine can be constructed From the bones and teeth of fishes By the skillful forger-artist, By the hands of the magician." These the words of Wainamoinen:

"Something wondrous might be builded From these jaws, and teeth, and fish-bones; Might a magic harp be fashioned, Could an artist be discovered That could shape them to my wishes." But he found no fish-bone artist That could shape the harp of joyance From the relies of their feasting, From the jaw-bones of the monster, To the will of the magician. Thereupon wise Wainamoinen Set himself at work designing; Quick became a fish-bone artist, Made a harp of wondrous beauty, Lasting joy and pride of Suomi. Whence the harp's enchanting arches? From the jaw-bones of the monster. Whence the necessary harp-pins? From the pike-teeth firmly fastened. Whence the sweetly singing harp-strings? From the tail of Lempo's stallion. Thus was born the harp of magic From the mighty pike of Northland, From the relies from the feasting Of the heroes of Wainola. All the young men came to view it, All the aged with their children, Mothers with their beauteous daughters, Maidens with their golden tresses; All the people on the islands Came to view the harp of joyance, Pride and beauty of the Northland. Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Let the aged try the harp-strings, Gave it to the young magicians, To the dames and to their daughters, To the maidens, silver-tinselled, To the singers of Wainola. When the young men touched the harp-strings, Then arose the notes of discord; When the aged played upon it, Dissonance their only music. Spake the wizard, Lemminkainen:


"O ye witless, worthless children, O ye senseless, useless maidens, O ye wisdom-lacking heroes, Cannot play this harp of magic, Cannot touch the notes of concord! Give to me this thing or beauty, Hither bring the harp of fish-bones, Let me try my skillful fingers." Lemminkainen touched the harp-strings, Carefully the strings adjusted, Turned the harp in all directions, Fingered all the strings in sequence, Played the instrument of wonder, But it did not speak in concord, Did not sing the notes of joyance. Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:


"There is none among these maidens, None among these youthful heroes, None among the old magicians That can play the harp of magic, Touch the notes of joy and pleasure. Let us take the harp to Pohya, There to find a skillful player That can touch the strings in concord." Then they sailed to Sariola, To Pohyola took the wonder, There to find the harp a master. All the heroes of Pohyola, All the boys and all the maidens, Ancient dames, and bearded minstrels, Vainly touched the harp of beauty. Louhi, hostess of the Northland, Took the harp-strings in her fingers; All the youth of Sariola, Youth of every tribe and station, Vainly touched the harp of fish-bone; Could not find the notes of joyance, Dissonance their only pleasure; Shrieked the harp-strings like the whirlwinds, All the tones wore harsh and frightful. In a corner slept a blind man, Lay a gray-beard on the oven, Rousing from his couch of slumber, Murmured thus within his corner:

"Cease at once this wretched playing, Make an end of all this discord; It benumbs mine ears for hearing, Racks my brain, despoils my senses, Robs me of the sweets of sleeping. If the harp of Suomi's people True delight cannot engender, Cannot bring the notes of pleasure, Cannot sing to sleep the aged, Cast the thing upon the waters, Sink it in the deeps of ocean, Take it back to Kalevala, To the home of him that made it, To the bands of its creator." Thereupon the harp made answer, To the blind man sang these measures:


"Shall not fall upon the waters, Shall not sink within the ocean; I will play for my creator, Sing in melody and concord In the fingers of my master." Carefully the harp was carried To the artist that had made it To the hands of its creator, To the feet of Wainamoinen.











The Kalevala

by

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

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Last Few Published Books and Articles

  • Fitness school, question 44: What is the actual weight of one cm3 lean muscle mass, and will that weight per cm3 be able to also differ ever so minuscule between fit people and out of shape people (generally speaking that is).

    Quality time needed: 1 minute


    A healthy life is a daily process created by making healthy science based choices.
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 44 in our School of Fitness.
    Time for a short and sweet little one.
    As stated in the subject line, lean muscle mass has another weight/density ratio than fat, so a body mass that is made up of more fat and less lean muscle mass will display a bigger mass at a lower body weight, while a body that has a greater amount of lean muscle mass will actually have a higher body weight compared to what its body mass might make you believe.


    Read on beyond the break and dwell deeper down into today's fitness school question.

  • Pressmeddelande: Biologiska mångfaldens dag 2019 tar en tur i naturen för en stund med naturfoto och fitness prat i Höga Kusten.

    Quality time needed: 1 minute


    a Norse View & Scandinavian.fitness.
    Biologiska mångfaldens dag 2019, Höga Kusten, Sverige.



    Humlesafari, fladdermuslyssning, fjärilsbingo, krypletning och fågelvandring – den 22 maj uppmärksammas den internationella FN-dagen Biologiska mångfaldens dag med en mängd olika evenemang runt om i Sverige.

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    I Höga Kusten arrangerar Mike från a Norse View och Scandinavian.fitness en dagstur ut i naturen där vi blandar naturfoto i en vacker insjömiljö och faktabaserat prat om kost, träning och hälsa.




  • Fitness school, question 42: Will maintained fitness reduce menstrual pain for the majority of women?

    Quality time needed: 1 minute


    Fitness is built upon the science of you.
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 42 in our School of Fitness.
    Fitness has been established in scientific studies in the last few years as a health-improving daily life painkiller.
    Making it even better is the fact that it comes completely free of cost and nerve-wracking & time-consuming doctors appointment and unhealthy side-effects. Lowering pain and debilitating health issues such as arthritis while fortifying your lifespan and health.

    But is that tremendous gratis painkiller effect applicable to menstrual pain too?.

  • Wildlife Facts: Camelopardalis, 'The camel that could have been a leopard'.. What animal am I talking about right now?

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     Arctic Sunrise - Year 4.5 Billion
    The camel that could have been a leopard.

     


    One of planet Earth´s most unique land-living animals still roaming about in the wild also happens to be one of the cutest and most enchanting, and gentle colossuses that have ever existed. Yet, somehow, despite the towering size and unique characteristics of these majestic critters they are also one of the lesser talked about wildlife stars. And so it happens that by now they are like so many other species highly endangered without anyone really paying attention.

    But perhaps that is the reward that life gave these majestic beings that float across the land they call home as if they are majestic land dwelling whales. A backseat in the human consciousness as we proceeded to decimate their global population with 40 or so % in less than 30 years.

  • Fitness school, question 41: The science of our human fitness anatomy. Scalenus Anterior, medius and posterior.

    Quality time needed: 1 minute


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    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 41 in our School of Fitness.
    Beneath the tasty, delicious joy and sexiness of a life built on plant-based food and fitness, the weights you lift, the miles you walk and run. The mountains you climb, and the sandbags you punch and kick there is not just a burning passion and increased life quality. Nor is it just a question of the enhanced health and joy you can touch and feel deep inside both body & mind.
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  • Fitness school, question 40: The science of sugar and intestine tumors... In both mice & men.

    Quality time needed: 8 minutes


    Yet another study on food & health.

    Looking at the impact of sugar in food and beverages.



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    But as much as all things living seemingly enjoy the taste of sugar and more modern artificial sweeteners. Scientifically speaking the bad health impact of sugar ( from obesity to diabetes and cancer risk, poor dental health and non existing nutritional value ) and other sweeteners have thankfully turned countless of humans into die hard "no sugar" please sentinels. So let us take a brief look at a brand new 2019 study and let us find out if this study too will add even more reasons to say no to sugar and other sweeteners in your food and beverages.

  • Fitness school, question 39: Telomeres, the fancy sounding tail that connects healthy fit aging with fitness activities. Dive right in as we take a look at recent studies.

    Quality time needed: 13 minutes


    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 39 in our School of Fitness.
    I have talked about telomeres in years past, and fitness too obviously :).
    But such is the world of fitness, science, and health, it often revisits old "truths" and sometimes upends them because our knowledge has deepened, while new studies at other times will simply fortify and acknowledge what we already knew to be true.
    So what will happen today as we travel back to the world of that peachy sounding telomeres thingy that keeps wiggling its cute little tail inside of us? Let us find out.
    My Question:.
    For this particular study, published in European Heart Journal, Nov 2018, we´ll uncover what happens to the length of our telomeres when we do long distance endurance training, high-intensity sprint intervals, nothing at all or lift weights in a so-so way in the gym ( yeah, color me unimpressed by the strength plan in this study, but hold on to that thought as you read on because I will get back to the fairly inadequate strength training and why that too matters. ).
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  • Anthropocene & the survival of our brilliant but simpleminded species. Just another morning.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes


    Breakfast stuff and morning thoughts.

    climate inaction is an existential threat.



    Nothing fancy or big worded to say today, I am just drinking some tasty fresh black coffee while various death metal songs keep pumping through my livingroom gear.
    Yes, what a glorious morning :).
    But while I am enjoying my morning routine, getting ready for the gym and my own workouts as well as the health and fitness regimes of today's PT clients I am also reading up on science and sustainability from around the world. And one of the pieces that stand out is a tonally laid-back piece by Swedish outlet DN. They spent the better part of a month or so following Swedish sustainability advocate Greta as she continues her quest to bring much-needed awareness to the sad state of the world and the essential, deep-rooted changes we as a species and global civilization urgently need to undertake.

  • Fitness school, question 38. Is obesity itself tied to diabetes type 2 and coronary artery disease?. Yes or no?.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes


    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 38 in our School of Fitness.
    Time for a short one.
    Obesity is no friend of the bettering of our health and longevity.
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  • Fitness school, question 37: Can something as simple as a reduction of daily walking decrease our lean muscle mass in a noticeable way in just 2 weeks time?

    Quality time needed: 8 minutes


    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 37 in our School of Fitness.
    Yes, it is once again time for you to put your thinking cap on before you proceed without hesitation through the hallway of healthy fit wonders and science :).
    You already know that keeping fit and lifting your weekly weights and doing your daily cardio is nothing but a rejuvenating choice. It's good for your strength, duh.. It is wondrously good for your harty heart health, and it aids your cognitive and creative processes. It scientifically speaking lowers depression and tardy drowsiness. And if you have been keeping up with me over the years, you also know that keeping fit on a regular weekly basis also lowers your physical age by quite a noticeable margin too.
    But even small ordinary things like taking a daily walk carries with it a huge life long health and fitness impact.

    My Question:.
    What happens with our skeletal lean muscle mass for people above 70 years of age if they take a few thousand steps more or less per day for 2 weeks time?.
    Read on to reveal just how big the impact of that tiny change can be below the break.

  • Fitness School, Question 36, Will lifting weights 1-3 days per week be enough to lower cardiovascular related mortality?.

    Quality time needed: 3 minutes


    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 36 in our School of Fitness.
    All forms of fitness activity is a tiny little pill of good health no matter who you are.
    But is the simple act of lifting weights one to three days per week enough to substantially lower the risk of cardiovascular related mortality?.
    Yup, that is how easy and straightforward question number 36 turned out to be. And why? Because we have a brand new study to lean back on when it comes down to the (obvious) answer.
    Read on to reveal the complete Q and A below the break.

  • Going beyond 1.5C. Our world and daily life behind the IPCC report.

    Quality time needed: 27 minutes


    Cause & Consequence.

    Life on Earth laid bare by the IPCC report.



    But before we head on over to the meaty real life data of our reckless modern day life, which the 2018 IPCC report painfully laid bare, walk with me as I step out on frosty cold northern shores for my morning walk.

    Just a Thursday, spent on northern shores.
    And this is the way I started this gorgeous little Autumn day.

  • Roundabouts in the milky way galaxy. The duality of a sustainable earth, and interplanetary living.

    Quality time needed: 14 minutes


    Walking through the gates of autumn.

    We see a brand new dawn.



    Life itself is this majestic mirror world of brilliance and incompetence. Eternally merging and reflected, individually disengaged yet perfectly synchronized and attached to each other and everything else.

    Like the leaf that finds itself stranded on the wayward peaks of a stormy ocean. They are each others counterpart, yet entirely different. Individual objects, entwined and interconnected. Disengaged and perfectly unique.

  • Into Autumn, the spider´s lullaby. Random thoughts on life from another gorgeous day.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes


    Walking through the gates of autumn.

    Together with a tiny little spider.



    And today, there´s officially a full-blown Autumn song playing out there in nature. Gorgeous and sunny, on a Sunday =). Wind free, except for the tiniest of breeze that you can almost not see or feel as it slowly makes it way through the crown of leaves that towers above.

    But it is, none the less, Autumn.
    The colors of the trees reveal it. The pale blue September moon that hangs high up in the middle of the day is another telltale.

  • The anatomy and fitness function of our gorgeous human ass ( The mighty three we call the Gluteus ).

    Quality time needed: 9 minutes


    The gorgeous strength of Gluteus Maximus, Medius and Minimus.

    The science of health and fitness should always be your lifelong guide.



    Fitness is as wonderful for your health as it is for landing you a more sculpted and capable body over time.
    But that will never change that even fit people (quite a lot of them) are doing the right things for the wrong reasons. Case in point the fit and good looking girl you can see in the IG video I am linking to, she obviously trains hard and regular while being in great shape, and she does know quite a few things about the body and the science of staying healthy and fit.
    Which is wonderful on all counts.
    But like so many other gym goers she is seemingly misinformed about a few things too ( on the other hand, so are we all :P ). Allowing wrongful information and knowledge to shape her choices and the choices of other people that gulps up everything we fit people believe to be true. However, if you are willing to listen to it the beautiful science of health and fitness will guide you towards a better body and better health and better workouts if you pay attention to real fitness science instead of personal opinions. You see, there is nothing wrong with the exercises she is doing. But outside of the wonderful world of human anatomy, there is no such thing as an upper or lower butt muscle as far as your exterior appearance goes, nor is there a meaningful difference as far as your practical fitness capacity and workout goes.

    Click through and let us talk about Gluteus Maximus, Medius and Minimus.

  • Earth over shoot day is one of many events and situations during the year that signals the mindless gluttony of our evolving hybrid species.

    Quality time needed: 8 minutes


    Planet Earth - studies & life in the Anthropocene.

    A new way of life is needed.



    But what is it exactly? And why is something that sounds so cute something truly terrible that we need to take seriously as a global whole.
    To most people, it is more than likely just another ridiculous phrase keyboard warriors throw around once a year while they too waste this world to the point of no return.
    But this ever-moving yearly event day is anything but deadly essential.

    Every year this day signals the point in that year where we have used up all the naturally replenishing resources of this planet.
    And beyond this point, the planet is losing its inventory for the next year(s) ahead and it's capacity to restock.

    Which if we are talking about corporations and business leaders is something that would cause pretty much every corporate leader out there to die from a heart attack if it persistently happened to their business. But when its Earth, people just shrug their mindless shoulders and look the other way as if the greenhouse we are subsisting in isn't the singular thing that feeds and house us all.

  • Fitness facts: How and why does the range of motion in any given strength exercise matter?.

    Quality time needed: 10 minutes


    Diving down into a range of motion and squat study.

    The science of health and fitness should always be your gym guide.



    Right now, if you enter any given gym, the wonderful world of barbells will conjure up as many opinions as there are fitness girls on Instagram, no matter the subject.
    And plenty of opinions are exactly that, personal opinions, formed by peer pressure in the gym, on social media, or by fit vixens looking to make a bigger following by posting daily stuff which may or may not be factually correct.

    There are out of date school gym coaches still living in the past, badly informed parents, friends, big brothers, big sisters, commercial interests only looking out for the next conference call, as well as uninformed writers working for big tabloids which just happened to draw the assignment to make a puff piece on fitness.

    So let us instead look at science and what it actually has to teach us about the range of motion for any particular exercise. And for the purpose of this article, let us focus on a Squat centric use case since legs and ass are thankfully all the rage anyway :).

  • Moments from the Anthropocene, the fox and my morning coffee.

    Quality time needed: 6 minutes


    The scent of black coffee.

    And wild breakfast companions.



    'Today' (another today ) while enjoying my first cup of coffee standing outside on my sun-drenched porch, I could hear something sneakily make its way through the underbrush and thick tall grass and florals that intermix with the deep dark, and thankfully, untouched old forest at the edge of my property.

    Fast forward just a little bit and I could start to see the movement in the thin youngling trees and the tall flowers. Something was out there, touching here and there making the wild plants and florals sway as it drew nearer me.

  • The savagery that is the carnivore dietary plan vs the science of health and fitness.

    Quality time needed: 15 minutes


    The error of your way.

    Could be spelled 'the carnivore diet'..



    A growing number of people in the world adopt healthy, fit living by going increasingly more vegetarian for a long range of personal reasons and or due to scientific reasons. Some of those reasons often include the substantial increase in cancer and diabetes risk that eating red meat and highly processed foods causes, or the impossible mathematics behind an entire world eating ever higher amounts of meat, or the incredible amount of pollution that animal food production causes.

    And facts are, that all those reasons are equally good, sound and true, so it does not even matter why you do it. It is a good and healthy choice to eat less red meat, and by doing so you will contribute towards a healthier you, and a healthier world.

  • Anthropocene: 12 vaquitas left in the world before they too face the ultimate end of line which is called extinction.

    Quality time needed: 5 minutes


    The vaquitas are sadly not alone.

    This is the Lost World of Planet Earth.



    Around the world, the vaquitas are sadly not alone, there are countless of animal species, plants and all that´s facing the threat of extinction in ever greater numbers. And the pace is accelerating, so it´s not business as usual.
    Worse, this is all down to man-made issues.
    It got nothing to do with prey and predatory fluctuations. And it got nothing to do with natural events and Earths naturally changing cycles.

  • Let us talk about the concept of 'Half Earth' and why both Dr Cristiana Pașca Palmer, UN and I share the opinion that it is all about 'Whole Earth'.

    Quality time needed: 7 minutes


    People & Planet is just a mutual ecosystem.

    The Lost World.



    A long and well established connective tissue in the way I talk and write, and think about health & fitness is that we are all connected through this global ecosystem we all share.
    Which is why I have over the years pointed out that living in a sustainable way is ultimately all about health. Individual health & planetary health. People that are opting to eat shit just isn't healthy.
    Neither from a planetary or individual perspective.

    Just as how healthy fit people that´s living unsustainable, just isn't healthy living people either.

  • Fitness School, Question 35, Let us dig deep down into 'standing barbell row' and the complete amount of muscles it will engage and activate.

    Quality time needed: 3 minutes


    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 35 in our School of Fitness.
    Once we venture beyond the glorious realms of leg and glutes training, there is the never-ending hallway of kicking and boxing to explore and conquer.
    But what else lies beyond the joy of those fit & healthy cornerstones?.
    Well, if it was not obvious so far in life, martial arts and legs and glutes have their equal in the colossus that is weighted back training.
    And when it comes down to weighted back training, actually, when it comes down to working the upper body at all, there is one exercise which I will never hesitate to put front and center (together with deadlift), and that is 'Standing Barbell Row'.
    Here is my question:
    Standing Barbell Row will challenge and work you from top to toe.
    But can you list all of the muscles which you will activate when you do this bad boy in a properly challenging way?.

  • The things we see in the rearview mirror, the world meat free week, and Scandinavian winter scenes.

    Quality time needed: 6 minutes


    Views we catch in the rear view mirror as we leave #worldmeatfreeweek behind us.

    The Lost World.



    Good and healthy vegetarian food is able to provide health & fitness improving nutrition for far more people, despite polluting much less and using up a lot less landmass vied towards animal farming.
    And you can quote me on that because that simple statement is 100% based on science & clear-cut facts instead of peoples personal opinions and conjecture.

    In fact, food production from animal farming is already using up 83% of our global agricultural land. Yet, it is only managing to deliver about 18% of the calories we consume. And does that situation not sound completely unsustainable and fool-hearted to maintain?.

  • Fitness School, Question 34, Is there a connection between weighted leg and glute training and your brain maintaining a healthy neurological cell production?

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes


    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 34 in our School of Fitness.
    Yes, we absolutely love our leg and glute day. The challenge it provides is a huge mountain of fun to climb every single week.
    But, did you know that you are not just strengthening your lower body when you are building stronger legs, ass, and hips?. Of course, you do. You know damn well that those leg days are crucial for the health and wellness of your lower back and abs too. And it sure does tax your heart and metabolic functions too. However, let us go upstairs towards our brainy area with this question.
    Here is my question:
    Is it true that weighted exercises in the gym for your leg and glutes will increase the production of healthy neural cells? ( which are crucial for the capacity and health of our brain and entire nervous system )

  • The Lost World XVIII and the enemy of all things living. #Connect2Earth

    Quality time needed: 9 minutes


    This is the lost world XVIII.
    And how life in the Anthropocene is the tale about the enemy of all things living.
    Healthy living is nothing but the science of life.



    With the rising tide of the Baltic sea far beneath me, I towered the surrounding world.
    Looking out from the crest of the Scandinavian coastline. This was still a place lost in time and mist. A mountain entirely dressed in green and trees, moss and berries, sand and soil, and it is, as much a mountainous castle growing ever taller as it is the place where salt and cold black water comes crashing in to embrace the land of the Vikings.

  • May 22 mark the crucial 'day of biological diversity'. But it is also so much more than that, #Connect2Earth.

    Quality time needed: 9 minutes


    At the crossroads of the Anthropocene.
    May 22 is 'The International Day of Biological Diversity'.
    A day which, is by now, our essential every day reality.



    May 22 is both a perfectly ordinary Tuesday in your life and the global 'International Day for Biological Diversity'.
    But that is not all this week is all about. We also have the endangered wildlife day, which happened on May 18, and birthday number 70 for IUCN. And, as such this entire week represents an opportunity for each of us to make it a healthy fit day for the entire planet and our individual self.


    Also, if you are present in the incredibly lush and beautiful high coast area of Scandinavia, Sweden next Tuesday you are more than welcome to join me and my coworker from Scandinavian.Fitness for a sweaty fit workout at the gym, lifting weights and grunting at Friskis, Örnsköldsvik at 0730. Once we are done at the gym, we will head outside for a walk at 0830 and hopefully enjoy beautiful weather together with the pristine nature of Scandinavia.

  • Fitness School, Question 33, Let us talk about that mighty beast called the Quadriceps.

    Quality time needed: 4 minutes


    Fitness School
    Do you know the right answer?.



    Question number 33 in our School of Fitness.
    Legs and ass and back. That is the holy trinity ( together with the fourth pillar, our abs ) of building a strong and capable and athletic body.
    But what about the makeup of our upper legs?
    We have the backside of our legs, which we call the hamstrings, and on the front, there´s the thing most people simply call the quads.
    But let us dig deeper down into those mighty looking quadriceps and the rest of the anterior side of our legs.
    Here is my question:
    Can you specify which muscles make up the bulk of what we call our quadriceps and anterior leg muscles?.

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