In the ancient runes of the Finns, the runes of the
"Kalewala," is related the creation of the world from the
yolk of an egg, and of the heavens from the shell of the
egg; also the origin of Iron and the birth of Steel and the
beginning of Music.... Now the first musician was no other
than Wainamoinen; and the first kantele, triple-stringed,
was made by him from the resonant wood of the fir, and from
the bones of a giant pike, as is told in the Twenty-Second
Rune. Out of the fir-tree was formed the body of the
kantele; out of the teeth of the pike-fish were the screws
wrought; and the strings were made of hairs from the black
mane of the steed of Hiisi the magician--from the shining
mane of the stallion of Hiisi, the herder of wolves and
bears....
... So the instrument was completed, the kantele was prepared; and the
aged and valiant Wainamoinen bade the old men to play upon it, and to
sing the runes of old.
And they sang, but wearily, as winds in mountain wastes; and their
voices trembled frostily, and the instrument rebelled against the touch
of their feeble fingers.
Then the ancient and valiant Wainamoinen commanded the young men to
sing. But their fingers became cramped upon the strings, and the sounds
called forth were sorrowful, and the instrument rebelled against their
touch. Joy answered not unto joy, song responded not unto song.
Then the ancient and valiant Wainamoinen sent the kantele to the wizard
people who dwelt in the wastes of ice, to the people of Pohjola, to the
Witch of Pohjola.
And the Witch sang, and the witch-virgins with her; the wizards also,
and the children of the wizards. But joy answered not unto joy; song
responded not unto song. And the kantele shrieked beneath the touch of
their fingers, shrieked like one who, fearing greatly in the blackness
of the night, feeleth invisible hands upon him.
Then spake an aged man who had seen more than two hundred winters--an
ancient man aroused by the shrieking of the kantele from his slumber
within the recess of the hearth: "Cease! cease! for the sounds which ye
utter make anguish in my brain, the noises which ye make do chill the
marrow within my bones. Let the instrument be cast into the waters, or
returned forthwith unto him who wrought it."
Then from the strings of the kantele issued sweet sounds, and the
sounds shaped themselves into words, and the kantele answered with its
voice, praying: "Cast me not into the deep, but return me rather unto
him who wrought me; for in the hands of my creator I will give forth
sounds of joy, I will utter sounds of harmonious sweetness."
So they took back the kantele unto Wainamoinen, who had wrought it.
And the ancient and valiant Wainamoinen washed his thumbs; he purified
his fingers; he seated himself by the sea upon the Stone of Joy, upon
the Hillock of Silver, even at the summit of the Hill of Gold; and he
took the instrument within his hands, and lifted up his voice, saying:
"Let him that hath never heard the strong joy of runes, the sweet sound
of instruments, the sound of music, come hither and hear!"
And the ancient Wainamoinen began to sing. Limpid his voice as the
voice of running water, deep and clear, mighty and beautiful.
Lightly his fingers ran over the strings of the kantele; and
the kantele sang in answer--sang weirdly, sang wondrously, sang
throbbingly, like the throats of a thousand birds. And its joy answered
unto the joy of the singer; its song responded unto Wainamoinen's song.
All the living creatures of the forest, all the living creatures of
air, drew nigh unto the rune-singer, gathered themselves about the
mighty chanter, that they might hear the suavity of his voice, that
they might taste the sweetness of his song.
The gray wolves came from their lurking-places in the vast marshes; the
bears deserted their dwellings under the roots of the firs, within the
hollows of the giant pines; and they clambered over the hedges in their
way, they broke down the obstacles before them. And the wolves mounted
upon the heights, the bears upon the trees, while Wainamoinen called
Joy into the world, while Wainamoinen sang his wondrous song.
The lord of the forest, also, the old man of the black beard--Knippana,
king of the joyous woods; and all the followers of Tapio, god of wild
creatures, came forth to hear, and were visible. Even the wife of the
forest king, the goddess of savage beasts, the mistress of Tapiola,
donned her raiment of red, and put on her azure stockings, and ascended
a hollow birch that she might lend ear to the songs of the god.
All animals of the woods, all birds of the air, hurried to hear the
marvelous art of the musician, hastened to taste the sweetness of his
song.
The eagle descended from the clouds; the falcon clave the airs; the
white gulls rose from the far sea-marshes, the swans from the clear
deeps of running water; the swift lark, the quick finch, the comely
linnet, came to perch upon the shoulders of the god.
The Sun, bright virgin of the sky--the Sun, rich in her splendors--and
the fair-shining Moon, had paused in their paths; the first upon the
luminous vault of heaven, the other upon the end of a long cloud. There
were they weaving their subtle tissues of light--weaving with shuttle
of gold, carding with carding-comb of silver. Suddenly they heard the
unknown voice of song--the voice, mighty and sweet, of the rune-singer.
And the shuttle of gold escaped from their hands, and the carding-comb
of silver slipped from their fingers, and the threads of their tissue
were broken.
All animals living in the waters, all the thousand-finned fishes of
the deep, came to hear the voice of Wainamoinen, came to taste the
sweetness of his song.
Swiftly came the salmon and the trout, the pikes also and the sea-dogs;
all the great fishes and all the little fishes swam toward the shore,
and remained as nigh as they might remain, and lifted their heads to
listen.
And Ahto, monarch of waters--Ahto, ancient as the ocean, and bearded
with water-weeds--arose upon his great water-lily above the waves.
The fertile wife of the sea-god was combing her hair with a comb of
gold, and she heard the voice of the singer. And the comb fell from her
hands; trembling of pleasure seized her, torture of desire came upon
her to hear, so that she arose from the green abyss and approached the
shore. There, leaning with her bosom upon the rock, she listened to
the sounds of the kantele, mingling with the voice of Wainamoinen--so
tender the sounds, so sweet the song!
All the heroes wept; the hardest of hearts were softened; there were
none of all having never wept before who did not weep then.
The youths wept; the old men wept; the strong men wept; the virgins
wept; the little infants wept; even Wainamoinen also felt the source of
his own tears rising to overflow.
And soon his tears began to fall, outnumbering the wild berries of the
hills, the heads of the swallows, the eggs of the fowls.
They streamed upon his cheeks; and from his cheeks they fell upon his
knees, and from his knees they dropped upon his feet, and from his feet
they rolled into the dust.
And his tear-drops passed through his six garments of wool, his six
girdles of gold, his seven robes of blue, his eight tunics all thickly
woven.
And the tears of Wainamoinen flowed as a river, and became a river, and
poured themselves to the shores of the sea, and precipitated themselves
from the shores into the deeps of the abyss, into the region of black
sands.
There did they blossom; there were they transformed into
pearls,--pearls destined for the crowns of kings, for the eternal joy
of noblest heroes.
And the aged Wainamoinen cried out: "O youths, O daughters of
illustrious race! is there none among ye who will go to gather up my
tears from the deeps of the ocean, from the region of black sand?"
But the youths and the elders answered, saying: "There is none among us
willing to go to gather up thy tears from the deeps of the ocean, from
the region of black sand."
Then a seamew, a seamew with plumage of blue, dipped her beak into the
cold waves; and she gathered the pearls, and she gathered the tears, of
Wainamoinen from the deeps of the ocean, from the region of black sand.