“My son, it shall be thy concern to light the lamp and make it ready
for a new journey.”
Both did their duty faithfully, and on no one day was the lamp wanting
from the vault of heaven. And when in winter it wanders along the edge
of the sky, then it goes out earlier in the afternoon and sets forth
later in the morning. And when in spring it awakens flowers and the
songs of birds, and when in summer it ripens the fruit with the heat
of its beams, then it has but a short time to rest; Ämarik gives it up
at once when it is quenched into the hands of Koit, who breathes a new
life into it.
The fair time was now come when the flowers open their perfumed cups,
and birds and men fill with songs the hollow of Ilmarinen’s tent.[17]
Then Koit and Ämarik looked each other too deeply in the eyes, dark as
whortle-berries; and when the sun, as it went out, passed from her hand
to his, then hand pressed hand, and the lips of the one stirred the
lips of the other.
But an eye which ever wakes had marked what was happening in the
secrecy of the midnight stillness; and on the morrow the Ancient of
Days called them both before him and said:—
“I am fully content with the way in which you fulfil your duties, and
I wish you to be completely happy. Marry, then; and wait on your task
together as man and wife.”
And as with one voice they answered:—“Father, disturb not our
gladness. Let us remain ever betrothed groom and bride; for we have
found our happiness in this state where loves are ever young and
new.” And the Ancient of Days granted their request and blessed their
resolution.
Once only in the year, during four weeks, do the two meet at midnight.
And when Ämarik puts the sun that has gone out into the hand of her
lover, there follow a pressure of the hand and a kiss; and Ämarik’s
cheeks grow red and their rosy hue is reflected through the heavens,
until Koit lights the lamp again and the golden sheen in the sky
announces the upgoing sun. For that joyous meeting the All-Father
adorns his fields with the most lovely flowers; and nightingales cry
jestingly to Ämarik as she lingers on Koit’s breast:—“Careless girl,
careless girl. The night is long.”
_Translated from the_ FOSTERLÄNDSKT ALBUM.