And he spoke the words which follow:
"All our fires have been extinguished,
And their flames died down in darkness,
Long already were we fireless,
And in darkness were we hidden,
But at length have we determined
That the fire we ought to seek for,
Which has just dropped down from heaven,
From above the clouds has fallen." 170
Then the woman gave them answer,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"Hard it is to track the fire,
And the bright flame to discover.
It has evil wrought already,
And the flame has crime committed,
For the red spark has shot downward,
And the red ball has descended
From the realms of the Creator,
Where it was by Ukko kindled, 180
Through the level plains of heaven,
Through the void aërial spaces,
Downwards through the sooty smoke-hole,
Downward through the seasoned roof-tree
Of the new-built house of Tuuri,
Of a wretched roofless dwelling.
"When the fire at length came thither,
In the new-built house of Tuuri,
Evil deeds he then accomplished,
Shocking deeds he then accomplished, 190
Burning up the maidens' bosoms,
Tearing at the breasts of maidens,
And the knees of boys destroying,
And the master's beard consuming.
"And her child the mother suckled,
In a cradle of misfortune.
Thither, too, the fire rushed onward,
And its evil work accomplished,
In the cradle burned the baby,
Burning, too, the mother's bosom, 200
And the child went off to Mana,
And the boy went straight to Tuoni.
Thus it was the infant perished,
And was cast into destruction,
In the red flame's fiery torture,
In the anguish of its glowing.
"Great the knowledge of the mother,
And to Manala she went not.
Means she knew to ban the fire,
And to drive away its glowing, 210
Through the little eye of needle,
And across the back of axe-blade,
Through the sheath of glowing sword-blade,
Past the ploughed land did she drive it."
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Heard her words, and then made answer:
"Whither has the fire retreated,
Whither did the pest take refuge,
Was it in the field of Tuuri,
In a lake, or in a forest?" 220
Then the matron made him answer,
And she spoke the words which follow:
"When from thence the fire departed,
And the flame went wandering onward,
First it burned o'er many districts,
Many districts, many marshes,
Rushed at last into the water,
In the billows of Lake Alue,
And the fire rose up all flaming,
And the sparks arose all crackling. 230
"Three times in the nights of summer,
Nine times in the nights of autumn,
Rose the lake the height of fir-trees,
Roaring rose above the lake-banks,
With the strength of furious fire,
With the strength of heat all flaming.
"On the bank were thrown the fishes,
On the rocks the perch were stranded,
And the fishes looked around them,
And the perch were all reflecting 240
How they could continue living.
Perch were weeping for their dwellings,
Fish were weeping for their homesteads,
Perches for their rocky castles.
"And the perch with back all crooked,
Tried to seize the streak of fire,
But the perch was not successful;
Seized upon it the blue powan.
Down he gulped the streak of fire,
And extinguished thus its brightness. 250
"Then retired the Lake of Alue,
And fell back from all its margins,
Sinking to its former level
In a single night of summer.
"When a little time passed over,
Fire-pain seized on the devourer,
Anguish came upon the swallower,
Grievous suffering on the eater.
"Up and down the fish swam turning,
Swam for one day and a second, 260
All along the powan's island,
Clefts in rocks where flock the salmon,
To the points of capes a thousand,
Bays among a hundred islands.
Every cape made declaration,
Every island spoke in thiswise:
"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters,
In the narrow Lake of Alue,
Can the wretched fish be swallowed,
Or the hapless one may perish 270
In the torture of the fire,
In the anguish of its glowing.'
"But a salmon-trout o'erheard it,
And the powan blue he swallowed.
When a little time passed over,
Fire-pain seized on the devourer,
Anguish came upon the swallower,
Grievous suffering on the eater.
"Up and down the fish swam turning,
Swam for one day and a second, 280
Through the clefts where flock the salmon,
And the depths where sport the fishes,
To the points of capes a thousand,
Bays among a hundred islands.
Every cape made declaration,
Every island spoke in thiswise:
"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters,
In the narrow Lake of Alue,
Can the wretched fish be swallowed,
Or the hapless one may perish 290
In the pain of burning fire,
In the anguish of its glowing.'
"But a grey pike hurried forward,
And the salmon-trout he swallowed.
When a little time passed over,
Fire-pain seized on the devourer,
Anguish came upon the swallower,
Grievous suffering on the eater.
"Up and down the fish swam turning,
Swam for one day and a second, 300
Past the cliffs where flock the seagulls,
And the rocks where sport the seamews,
To the points of capes a thousand,
Bays among a hundred islands.
Every cape made declaration,
Every island spoke in thiswise:
"'Nowhere in these sluggish waters,
In the narrow Lake of Alue,
Can the wretched fish be swallowed,
Or the hapless one may perish 310
In the pain of burning fire,
In the anguish of its glowing.'"
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
Secondly, smith Ilmarinen,
Wove a net of bast constructed,
Which from juniper they gathered,
Steeped it in the juice of willow,
And of sallow-bark they made it.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast
Sent the women to the drag-net; 320
To the net there went the women,
Sisters came to draw the drag-net;
And he steered, and glided onward
Past the capes and round the islands,
To the clefts where flock the salmon,
And along the powan's island,
Where the red-brown reeds are waving,
And among the beauteous rushes.
Eager now to make a capture,
Then he cast the net and sunk it, 330
But he cast the net out twisted,
And in wrong direction drew it,
And the fish they could not capture,
Though with eagerness they laboured.
In the water went the brothers,
To the net the men proceeded,
And they swung it and they pushed it,
And they pulled it and they dragged it,
Through the deeps, and rocky places,
Drew it o'er Kalevala's shingle; 340
But the fish they could not capture;
Not the fish so greatly needed.
Came the grey pike never near them,
Neither on the placid water,
Nor upon its ample surface;
Fish are small, and nets not many.
Now the fish were all complaining;
Said one pike unto another,
And the powan asked the ide-fish,
And one salmon asked another: 350
"Can the famous men have perished,
Perished Kaleva's great children,
They who drag the net of linen,
And of yarn have made the fish-net,
With long poles who beat the water,
With long sticks who move the waters?"
Old and famous Väinämöinen
Answered in the words which follow:
"No, the heroes have not perished,
Kaleva's great race has died not, 360
When one dies, is born another,
And the best of staves they carry,
Longer sticks to sound the water,
And their nets are twice as fearful."
RUNO XLVIII.--THE CAPTURE OF THE FIRE
_Argument_
The heroes prepare a linen net, and at length capture the fish which has
swallowed the fire (1-192). The fire is found in the fish's belly, but
flashes up suddenly, and burns Ilmarinen's cheeks and hands severely
(193-248). The fire rushes into the forest, burns over many countries,
and spreads further and further, till at length it is captured and
carried to the dark dwellings of Kalevala (249-290). Ilmarinen recovers
from his burns (291-372).
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
He the great primeval minstrel,
Thereupon began to ponder,
And reflected on the method
How to make a net of linen,
How to make the hundred meshes.
Then he spoke the words which follow,
And expressed himself in thiswise:
"Is there one who flax can sow me,
Who can sow the flax and card it, 10
And of this a net can make me,
Weave for me its hundred meshes,
Thus this wretched fish to slaughter,
And destroy the fish unhappy?"
So a little spot they found him,
Found a place not yet burned over,
In the wide extent of marshes,
There between two stumps they found it.
Thereupon they dug the roots out,
And 'twas there they found the flaxseed, 20
Guarded by the worm of Tuoni,
There protected by the earthworm.
There they found a heap of ashes;
Dry the ashes that they found there,
Of a wooden burned-up vessel,
Of a boat that once had burned there.
There it was they sowed the flaxseed,
In the loose ash did they sow it,
On the shore of Lake of Alue,
There they sowed it in the clayfield. 30
Presently the shoot rose upward,
And the flax grew thick and strongly,
Grew beyond their expectations,
In a single night of summer.
Then they steeped it in the night-time,
And they carded it by moonlight,
And they cleansed it and they stripped it,
And they beat it and they rubbed it,
With their tools of steel they scraped it,
And with all their strength they stripped it. 40
Then they took the flax to steeping,
And it soon began to soften,
And they hastened then to pound it,
Afterwards in haste they dried it.
Then into the house they brought it,
And they hastened then to strip it,
And they hastened next to beat it,
And they hastened then to break it.
Then with diligence they cleansed it,
In the twilight did they comb it, 50
And upon the loom arranged it,
Quicker brought it to the spindle,
In a single night of summer;
Thus between two days they worked it.
After this the sisters spun it,
And their brothers' wives were netting,
And the brothers worked the meshes,
And the fathers also aided.
Quickly did they turn the netter,
And the mesh with speed they twisted, 60
Till the net was quite completed,
And the cords were fixed upon it,
In a single night of summer,
Half another in addition.
Thus the net was quite completed,
And the cords were fixed upon it.
And its length was hundred fathoms,
And its breadth was hundreds seven;
Stones for weights were fastened to it,
Likewise proper floats provided. 70
With the net the youths were walking,
And at home the old men pondered,
Whether they would make a capture,
And secure the fish they wished for.
Then they drew the net and dragged it,
Much they toiled, and threshed the water,
Drew it lengthwise through the water,
Dragged it crosswise through the water,
Captured many little fishes,
Many luckless perch they captured, 80
Many bony perch they captured,
And a large-galled Redeye likewise,
But the fish they could not capture
That for which the net was fashioned.
Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,
Let us now go forth together
Where the net is in the water."
Thereupon went both the heroes,
And they drew it through the water, 90
And upon one side they spread it
Round the islands in the water,
And the other side directed,
Round about the promontories,
And the balance-pole was guided
Just as aged Väinö pushed it.
Thus they cast the net and pushed it,
And they drew the net and dragged it,
Captured fishes in abundance,
And they captured perch in plenty, 100
Salmon-trout in great abundance,
Bream and salmon too they captured,
All the fishes of the water,
Only not the fish they sought for,
That for which the net was woven,
And the ropes were fastened to it.
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Worked to make the net yet longer,
Wider yet the sides expanded,
Perhaps five hundred fathoms broader, 110
Netted full seven hundred fathoms,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"To the depths the nets we'll carry,
And will now extend them further,
Once again will drag the water,
Thus another cast attempting."
To the depths the nets they carried,
Further did they then convey them,
And again they dragged the water,
Thus another cast attempting. 120
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Spoke aloud the words which follow:
"Vellamo, O Water-Mother,
Old one with the lavish bosom,
Do thou change the shift upon thee,
Do thou change thy dress completely,
For thou hast a shift of rushes,
On thy head a cap of lake-foam,
Fashioned by the Wind's fair daughter,
Which the billows' daughter gave thee. 130
Now assume a shift of linen,
Of the finest flax that's woven,
Which by Kuutar has been woven,
Päivätär has wrought when spinning.
"Ahto, master of the billows,
Ruler thou of caves a hundred,
Take thy pole in length five fathoms,
Take thy stake, in length full seven,
Thresh with this the open water,
And do thou stir up the lake-bed, 140
Stir thou all the heaps of refuse,
Drive thou on the shoals of fishes,
Where the net is spread to catch them,
And its hundred floats are swimming,
From the bays by fish frequented,
From the caves where hide the salmon,
From the wide lake's seething whirlpool,
And from the profound abysses,
Where the sun was never shining,
Undisturbed the sand for ever." 150
From the lake a dwarf ascended,
From the waves arose a hero,
Stood upon the lake's broad surface,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"Is there need to thresh the water,
With a long pole to disturb it?"
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words that follow:
"There is need to thresh the water,
With a long pole to disturb it." 160
Then the dwarf, the little hero,
Lifted from the bank a pine-tree,
Took a tall tree from the pinewood,
And prepared to thresh the water,
And he asked, and spoke as follows:
"Shall I thresh with strength sufficient,
Putting forth my utmost efforts,
Or as hard as may be needful?"
Old and prudent Väinämöinen
Answered in the words which follow: 170
"If you thresh as hard as needful,
You will have to do much threshing."
Then the man, the little hero,
Set to work to thresh the water,
And he threshed as much as needful,
And he drove the shoals of fishes,
And into the net he drove them,
In the net with floats a hundred.
Rested now the smith his oars;
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, 180
Now the net himself drew upward,
At the rope as he was pulling.
Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"We have caught a shoal of fishes,
In the net that I am lifting,
With a hundred floats provided."
Then the net was soon drawn upward,
And they drew it up and shook it
In the boat of Väinämöinen,
Finding mid the shoal of fishes, 190
That for which the net was fashioned,
And the hundred floats provided.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
To the land then urged the vessel,
To the blue bridge-side he brought it,
To the red bridge-end he brought it,
There the shoal of fishes sorted,
Turned the heap of bony fishes,
And the grey pike found among them,
Which he long had sought to capture. 200
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Thus unto himself reflected:
"Is it wise with hands to seize it,
Save with gauntlets made of iron,
Save with gloves of stone constructed,
Save with mittens made of copper?"
And the Sun's son heard him speaking,
And replied in words that follow:
"I myself would rip the pike up,
Venture in my hand to take him, 210
If I had my large knife only,
Which my noble father gave me."
Then from heaven the knife descended,
From the clouds the knife fell downward,
Golden-hafted, silver-bladed,
To the Sun's son's belt dropped downward.
Thereupon the Sun's son seized it,
Firmly in his hand he grasped it,
And with this the pike ripped open,
Cleft the body of the Broad-snout, 220
And within the grey pike's belly
There the grey trout he discovered,
And within the grey trout's belly
There he found the smooth-skinned powan.
Then he split the smooth-skinned powan,
And a blue clew he discovered,
In the powan's entrails hidden,
In the third fold of the entrails.
Then the blue clew he unwinded;
From the inside of the blue clew 230
Fell a red clew from within it,
And when he unwound the red clew,
In the middle of the red clew,
There he found a spark of fire
Which had once from heaven descended,
Through the clouds had fallen downward,
From above eight heavens descending,
From the ninth aërial region.
Väinämöinen then considered
How the spark might best be carried, 240
To the cold and fireless dwellings,
To the rooms so dark and gloomy.
But the fire flashed up most fiercely,
From the Sun's son's hands who held it,
Singed the beard of Väinämöinen,
Burned the smith much more severely,
For upon his cheeks it burned him,
And upon his hands it scorched him.
And it hastened quickly onward
O'er the waves of Lake of Alue, 250
Through the junipers fled onward,
Burnt its way through all the thicket,
Then rushed upward through the fir-trees,
Burning up the stately fir-trees,
Rushing ever further onward,
Burned up half the land of Pohja,
And the furthest bounds of Savo,
Over both halves of Carelia.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Followed hard upon its traces, 260
And he hastened through the forest,
Close behind the furious fire,
And at length he overtook it,
'Neath the roots of two great tree-stumps,
In the stumps of alders hidden,
In the rotten stumps he found it.
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Spoke aloud the words which follow:
"Fire, whom Jumala created,
Creature of the bright Creator, 270
Idly to the depths thou goest,
Aimlessly to distant regions.
It were better far to hide thee
In the hearth of stone constructed,
There thy sparks to bind together,
And within the coals enclose them,
That by day thou may'st be flickering
In the kitchen birchen faggots,
And at night thou may'st be hidden
Close within the golden fire-box." 280
Then he thrust the spark of fire
In a little piece of tinder,
In the fungus hard of birch-tree,
And among the copper kettles.
Fire he carried to the kettles,
Took it in the bark of birch-tree,
To the end of misty headland,
And the shady island's summit.
Now was fire within the dwellings,
In the rooms again 'twas shining. 290
But the smith named Ilmarinen
Quickly hastened to the lakeshore,
Where the rocks the water washes,
And upon the rocks he sat him,
In the pain of burning fire,
In the anguish of its glowing.
There it was he quenched the fire,
There it was he dimmed its lustre,
And he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him: 300
"Fire whom Jumala created
And O thou, the Sun's son, Panu!
Who has made ye thus so angry,
As to scorch my cheeks in thiswise,
And to burn my hips so badly,
And my sides so much to injure?
"How shall I the fire extinguish,
How shall I reduce its glowing,
Make the fire for evil powerless,
And its lustre render harmless, 310
That no longer it may pain me,
And may cause me pain no longer?
"Come, thou girl, from land of Turja,
Come, thou maiden, forth from Lapland,
Frosty-stockinged, icy-booted,
And thy skirts all frosted over,
In thy hand the icy kettle,
And the ice-spoon in the kettle.
Sprinkle me with freezing water,
Sprinkle me with icy water, 320
On the places scorched so badly,
And the burns the fire has caused me.
"But if this is not sufficient,
Come, thou youth, come forth from Pohja,
Come, thou child, from midst of Lapland,
From Pimentola, O tall one,
Tall as is a forest fir-tree,
Tall as pine-tree in the marshes,
On thy hands the gloves of hoarfrost,
On thy feet the boots of hoarfrost, 330
On thy head the cap of hoarfrost,
Round thy waist the belt of hoarfrost.
"Bring from Pohjola the hoarfrost,
Ice from out the frozen village.
Hoarfrost's plentiful in Pohja,
Ice enough in frozen village.
Lakes of ice, and frozen rivers,
All the air with ice is laden.
O'er the hoarfrost hares are skipping,
On the ice the bears are sporting, 340
In the middle of the snow-heaps,
On the edge of the snow mountains,
On the rims the swans are walking,
On the ice the ducks are waddling,
In the midst of snow-filled rivers,
Cornices of icy cataracts.
"On thy sledge bring thou the hoarfrost,
On thy sledge the ice convey thou,
From the slopes of rugged mountains,
From the lofty mountains' borders. 350
Make them hoary with the hoarfrost,
With the ice, O make them icy,
All the hurts by fire occasioned,
All the burns the fire has caused me.
"But if this is not sufficient,
Ukko, thou of Gods the highest,
Ukko, thou the clouds who leadest,
Thou the scattered clouds who herdest,
Send a cloud from out the eastward,
And a thick cloud from the westward, 360
Link the edges close together,
Close thou up the gaps between them,
Send thou ice, and send thou hoarfrost,
Send thou, too, the best of ointment,
For the places scorched so badly,
And the hurts by fire occasioned."
Thus it was smith Ilmarinen
Found a means to quench the fire,
And to dim the brilliant fire.
Thus the smith was healed completely, 370
And regained his former vigour,
Healed from wounds the fire occasioned.
RUNO XLIX.--FALSE AND TRUE MOONS AND SUNS
_Argument_
Ilmarinen forges a new moon and sun but cannot make them shine (1-74).
Väinämöinen discovers by divination that the moon and sun are hidden in
the mountain of Pohjola, goes to Pohjola and conquers the whole nation
(75-230). He sees the moon and sun in the mountain, but cannot enter
(231-278). He returns home to procure tools with which to break open the
mountain. While Ilmarinen is forging them, the Mistress of Pohjola,
fearing that it may go ill with her, releases the moon and sun
(279-362). When Väinämöinen sees the moon and sun reappear in the sky,
he salutes them, hoping that they will always go brightly on their
course, and bring happiness to the country (363-422).
Still the sun was never shining,
Neither gleamed the golden moonlight,
Not in Väinölä's dark dwellings,
Not on Kalevala's broad heathlands.
Frost upon the crops descended,
And the cattle suffered greatly,
And the birds of air felt strangely,
All mankind felt ever mournful,
For the sunlight shone no longer,
Neither did there shine the moonlight. 10
Though the pike knew well the pike-deeps,
And the bird-paths knew the eagle,
And the wind the vessel's journey,
Yet mankind were all unknowing
If the time was really morning,
Or if perhaps it still was night-time,
Out upon the cloudy headland,
And upon the shady island.
And the young men then took counsel,
And the older men considered 20
How to live without the moonlight,
And exist without the sunlight,
In that miserable country,
In the wretched land of Pohja.
And the girls took likewise counsel,
And their cousins too considered;
And they hastened to the smithy,
And they spoke the words which follow:
"Smith, from 'neath the wall arise thou,
From the hearthstone rise, O craftsman, 30
That a new moon thou may'st forge us,
And a new sun thou may'st make us.
Ill it is without the moonlight,
Strange it is without the sunlight."
From the hearth arose the craftsman,
From beneath the wall the craftsman,
That a new moon he might forge them,
And a new sun he might make them,
And a moon of gold constructed,
And a sun he made of silver. 40
Came the aged Väinämöinen,
And beside the door he sat him,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"O thou smith, my dearest brother,
What art thou in smithy forging,
Hammering thus without cessation?"
Thereupon smith Ilmarinen
Answered in the words that follow:
"Out of gold a moon I'm shaping,
And a sun of silver making, 50
In the sky I then will place them,
Over six of starry heavens."
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Answered in the words that follow:
"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,
What you make is wholly useless.
Gold will never shine like moonlight,
Silver will not shine like sunlight."
Thus the smith a moon constructed,
And a sun completely finished, 60
Eagerly he raised them upward,
Raised them to the best position,
Raised the moon to fir-tree's summit,
Set the sun upon a pine-tree.
From his head the sweat was streaming,
From his forehead sweat was falling,
With the greatness of his efforts,
And the weight that he was lifting.
Thus the moon was now uplifted,
In his place the sun was stationed, 70
Moon amid the crown of fir-tree,
Sun upon a pine-tree's summit,
But the moon shed forth no lustre,
And the sun was likewise rayless.
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Spoke aloud the words which follow:
"Time it is the lots to shuffle,
And the signs with care to question
Where the sun is hidden from us,
And the moon has vanished from us." 80
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
He the great primeval sorcerer,
Hastened alder-sticks to cut him,
And arranged the sticks in order,
And began the lots to shuffle,
With his fingers to arrange them,
And he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him:
"Leave I ask of the Creator,
Seek an answer that misleads not. 90
Tell me, signs of the Creator,
Lots of Jumala, instruct me,
Where the sun is hidden from us,
And the moon has vanished from us,
Since no more as time elapses,
In the sky do we behold them?
"Speak, O lot, and tell me truly
With man's reason speak unto me,
Speak thou faithful words unto us,
Make thou faithful compacts with us! 100
If the lot should lie unto me,
Then its worth I hold as nothing,
And upon the fire will cast it,
And will burn the signs upon it."