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Everyman's Library
Edited by Ernest Rhys
Romance
KALEVALA
Translated from the Finnish by
W. F. KIRBY, F.L.S., F.E.S.
In 2 Vols. Vol. 1
KALEVALA
The Land of the Heroes
VOLUME ONE
London: J. M. Dent & Sons Ltd.
New York: E. P. Dutton & Co. Inc.
All rights reserved
Made in Great Britain
at The Temple Press Letchworth
and decorated by Eric Ravilious
for
J. M. Dent & Sons Ltd.
Aldine House Bedford St. London
First Published in this Edition 1907
Reprinted 1914, 1923, 1936
INTRODUCTION
The _Kalevala_, or the Land of Heroes, as the word may be freely
rendered, is the national epic of Finland, and as that country and its
literature are still comparatively little known to English readers, some
preliminary explanations are here necessary.
On reference to a map of Europe, it will be seen that the north-western
portion of the Russian Empire forms almost a peninsula, surrounded,
except on the Norwegian and Swedish frontiers, by two great arms of the
Baltic Sea, the Gulf of Bothnia and the Gulf of Finland; the two great
lakes, Ladoga and Onega; the White Sea, and the Arctic Ocean. In the
north of this peninsula is Lapland, and in the south, Finland.
The modern history of Finland begins with the year 1157, when the
country was conquered from the original inhabitants by the Swedes, and
Christianity was introduced. Later on, the Finns became Lutherans, and
are a pious, industrious, and law-abiding people, the upper classes
being highly educated.
During the wars between Sweden and Russia, under Peter the Great and his
successors, much Finnish territory was wrested from Sweden, and St.
Petersburg itself stands on what was formerly Finnish territory. When
what was left of Finland was finally absorbed by Russia in 1809, special
privileges were granted by Alexander I. to the Finns, which his
successors confirmed, and which are highly valued by the people.
The upper classes speak Swedish and Finnish; and the lower classes
chiefly Finnish. Finnish is upheld by many Finns from patriotic motives,
and there is a considerable modern literature in both languages.
Translations of most standard works by English and other authors are
published in Finnish.
The Finns call their country _Suomi_ or Marshland; and it is often
spoken of as the Land of Ten Thousand Lakes. The language they speak
belongs to a group called Finnish-Ugrian, or Altaic, and is allied to
Lappish and Esthonian, and more distantly to Turkish and Hungarian,
There are only twenty-one letters in the alphabet; the letter J is
pronounced like Y (as a consonant), and Y almost as a short I. The first
syllable of every word is accented. This renders it difficult to
accommodate such words as _K[=a]l[)e]v[)a]l[=a]_ to the metre; but I
have tried to do my best.
The Finlanders are very fond of old ballads, of which a great number
have been collected, especially by Elias Lönnrot, to whom it occurred to
arrange a selection into a connected poem, to which he gave the name of
_Kalevala_. This he first published in 1835, in two small volumes
containing twenty-five Runos or Cantos, but afterwards rearranged and
expanded it to fifty Runos; in which form it was published in 1849; and
this was speedily translated into other languages. Perhaps the best
translations are Schiefner's German version (1852) and Collan's Swedish
version (1864). Several volumes of selections and abridgments have also
appeared in America and England; and an English translation by John
Martin Crawford (in two volumes) was published in New York and London in
1889.
Schiefner used a flexible metre for his translation, which resembles the
original as closely as the different character of Finnish and German
would permit, a metre which had previously, though rarely, been used in
English. His work attracted the attention of Longfellow, whose "Song of
Hiawatha" is only a rather poor imitation of Schiefner's version of the
_Kalevala_, some of the lines being almost identical, and several of the
characters and incidents being more or less distinctly borrowed from
those in the Kalevala. The incidents, however, are generally
considerably altered, and not always for the better.
It will be seen that Lönnrot edited the _Kalevala_ from old ballads,
much as the poems of Homer, or at least the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_, are
said to have been put together by order of Pisistratus.
In the preparation of my own translation, the flexibility of the metre
has permitted me to attempt an almost literal rendering; without, I
hope, sacrificing elegance. The simplicity of the Finnish language and
metre would, in my opinion, render a prose version bald and
unsatisfactory. My chief difficulty has been to fit the Finnish names
into even a simple English metre, so as to retain the correct
pronunciation, and I fear I have not always succeeded in overcoming it
satisfactorily. I am greatly indebted to Prof. Kaarle Krohn and Madame
Aino Malmberg of Helsingfors, for their kindness in looking over the
whole of my typewritten translation, and for numerous suggestions and
comments. Of course I am solely responsible for any errors and
shortcomings which may be detected in my work.
I have added short notes at the end of each volume, and a glossary of
proper names at the end of the book, but a detailed commentary would be
out of place in a popular edition. The Arguments to each Runo are
translated, slightly modified, from those in the original.
The religion of the poem is peculiar; it is a Shamanistic animism,
overlaid with Christianity.
The _Kalevala_ relates the history of four principal heroes:
Väinämöinen, the Son of the Wind, and of the Virgin of the Air; a great
culture-hero, patriarch, and minstrel, always described as a vigorous
old man. The Esthonians call him Vanemuine, and make him the God of
Music.
His "brother" Ilmarinen appears to be the son of a human mother, though
he is also said to have been "born upon a hill of charcoal." He is a
great smith and craftsman, and is described as a handsome young man.
The third hero, Lemminkainen, is a jovial, reckless personage, always
getting into serious scrapes, from which he escapes either by his own
skill in magic, or by his mother's. His love for his mother is the
redeeming feature in his character. One of his names is Kaukomieli, and
he is, in part, the original of Longfellow's "Pau-Puk-Keewis."
The fourth hero is Kullervo, a morose and wicked slave of gigantic
strength, which he always misuses. His history is a terrible tragedy,
which has been compared to that of OEdipus. He is, in part, the
prototype of Longfellow's "Kwasind." He is the principal hero of the
Esthonian ballads, in which he is called Kalevipoeg, the son of Kaiev
(Kaleva in Finnish), the mythical ancestor of the heroes, who does not
appear in person in the _Kalevala_. The history of the Kalevipoeg will
be found in my work entitled _The Hero of Esthonia_, published by Nimmo
in 1895, in two volumes. However, the Esthonians make him not a slave,
but a king. In the _Kalevala_ we meet with no kings, but only
patriarchs, or chiefs of clans.
The principal heroines of the _Kalevala_ are Ilmatar, the Daughter of
the Air, the Creatrix of the world, in the first Runo, whose counterpart
is Marjatta, the mother of the successor of Väinämöinen, in the last
Runo; Aino, a young Lapp girl beloved of Väinämöinen, whose sad fate
forms one of the most pathetic episodes in the _Kalevala_; Louhi, the
Mistress of Pohjola, or the North Country; and her daughter, afterwards
the wife of Ilmarinen. The character of the daughter of Louhi presents
three phases, which illustrate more than anything else the composite
character of the poem, for it is impossible that any two can have been
drawn by the same hand.
Firstly, we find her as the beautiful and accomplished daughter of the
witch, playing the part of a Medea, without her cruelty.
Secondly, we find her as a timid and shrinking bride, in fact almost a
child-bride.
Thirdly, when married, she appears as a wicked and heartless
peasant-woman of the worst type.
The heroes are all skilled in magic, and to some extent are able to
command or propitiate even the gods. A peculiarity of Finnish magic is
what is called "the word of origin."
To control or banish an evil power, it is sufficient to know and to
repeat to it its proper name, and to relate the history of its creation.
Before concluding the Introduction, it may be well to give a brief
summary of the principal contents of the fifty Runos of the poem.
Runo I. After a preamble by the bard, he proceeds to relate how the
Virgin of the Air descended into the sea, was tossed about by the winds
and waves, modelled the earth, and brought forth the culture-hero
Väinämöinen, who swims to shore.
Runo II. Väinämöinen clears and plants the country, and sows barley.
Runo III. The Laplander Joukahainen presumes to contend with Väinämöinen
in singing, but is plunged by him into a swamp, till he pledges to him
his sister Aino; after which he is released, and returns home
discomfited. But Aino is much distressed at the idea of being obliged to
marry an old man.
Runo IV. Väinämöinen makes love to Aino in the forest; but she returns
home in grief and anger, and finally wanders away again, and is drowned
while trying to swim out to some water-nymphs in a lake. Her mother
weeps for her incessantly.
Runo V. Väinämöinen fishes up Aino in the form of a salmon; but she
escapes him, and his mother advises him to seek a bride in Pohjola, the
North Country, sometimes identified with Lapland, but apparently still
further north.
Runo VI. While Väinämöinen is riding over the water on his magic steed,
Joukahainen shoots the horse under him. Väinämöinen falls into the
water, and is driven onwards by a tempest, while Joukahainen returns to
his mother, who upbraids him for shooting at the minstrel.
Runo VII. Väinämöinen is carried by an eagle to the neighbourhood of the
Castle of Pohjola, where the chatelaine, Louhi, receives him hospitably,
and offers him her beautiful daughter if he will forge for her the
talisman called the Sampo. He replies that he cannot do so himself, but
will send his brother Ilmarinen, so Louhi gives him a sledge in which to
return home.
Runo VIII. Väinämöinen, on his journey, finds the daughter of Louhi
sitting on a rainbow weaving, and makes love to her. In trying to
accomplish the tasks she sets him, he wounds himself severely, and
drives away till he finds an old man who promises to stanch the blood.
Runo IX. The old man heals Väinämöinen by relating the origin of Iron,
and by salving his wounds.
Runo X. Väinämöinen returns home, and as Ilmarinen declines to go to
Pohjola to forge the Sampo, he causes a whirlwind to carry him to the
castle. Ilmarinen forges the Sampo, but the maiden declines to marry him
at present, and he returns home disconsolate.
Runos XI.-XV. These Runos relate the early adventures of Lemminkainen.
He carries off and marries the beautiful Kyllikki, but quarrels with
her, and starts off to Pohjola to woo the daughter of Louhi. Louhi sets
him various tasks, and at length he is slain, cast into the river of
Tuoni, the death-god, and is hewed to pieces; but is rescued and
resuscitated by his mother.
Runos XVI.-XVII. Väinämöinen regrets having renounced the daughter of
Louhi in favour of Ilmarinen, and begins to build a boat, but cannot
complete it without three magic words, which he seeks for in vain in
Tuonela, the death-kingdom, but afterwards jumps down the throat of the
dead giant, Antero Vipunen, and compels him to sing to him all his
wisdom.
Runos XVIII.-XIX. Väinämöinen and Ilmarinen travel to Pohjola, one by
water and the other by land, and agree that the maiden shall make her
choice between them. She prefers Ilmarinen, who is aided by his bride to
perform all the tasks set him by Louhi.
Runos XX.-XXV. The wedding is celebrated at Pohjola, an immense ox being
slaughtered for the feast; after which ale is brewed by Osmotar,
"Kaleva's most beauteous daughter." Every one is invited, except
Lemminkainen, who is passed over as too quarrelsome and ill-mannered.
Before the bride and bridegroom leave, they have to listen to long
lectures about their future conduct.
Runos XXVI.-XXX. Lemminkainen is enraged at not being invited to the
wedding, forces his way into the Castle of Pohjola through the magical
obstacles in his path, and slays the lord of the castle in a duel. He
flies home, and his mother sends him to hide in a distant island where
all the warriors are absent, and where he lives with the women till the
return of the men, when he is again obliged to fly. He returns home, and
finds the whole country laid waste, and only his mother in hiding.
Against her advice, he persuades his old comrade Tiera to join him in
another expedition against Pohjola, but Louhi sends the Frost against
them, and they are driven back in great distress.
Runos XXXI.-XXXVI. A chief named Untamo lays waste the territory of his
brother Kalervo, and carries off his wife. She gives birth to Kullervo,
who vows vengeance against Untamo in his cradle. Untamo brings Kullervo
up as a slave, but as he spoils everything he touches, sells him to
Ilmarinen. Ilmarinen's wife ill-treats him, and he revenges himself by
giving her over to be devoured by wolves and bears, and escapes to the
forests, where he rejoins his family. One of his sisters has been lost,
and meeting her accidentally and without knowing her, he carries her
off. She throws herself into a torrent, and he returns home. His mother
advises him to go into hiding, but first he makes war on Untamo,
destroys him and his clan, and again returns home. Here he finds all his
people dead, and everything desolate; so he wanders off into the forest,
and falls on his own sword.
Runos XXXVII.-XLIX. Ilmarinen forges himself a new wife of gold and
silver, but cannot give her life or warmth, so he carries off another
daughter of Louhi; but she angers him so much that he changes her into a
seagull. Ilmarinen and Väinämöinen, who are afterwards joined by
Lemminkainen, now undertake another expedition to Pohjola to carry off
the Sampo. On the way, Väinämöinen constructs a kantele or harp of
pikebone, and lulls Louhi and her people to sleep; but she pursues the
robbers, and first the kantele is lost overboard, and then the Sampo is
broken to pieces and lost in the sea. Väinämöinen saves enough to secure
the prosperity of Kalevala, but Louhi only carries home a small and
almost useless fragment. Väinämöinen then makes a new kantele of
birchwood. Louhi brings pestilence on Kalevala, then sends a bear
against the country, and lastly, steals away the sun and moon, hiding
them in the stone mountain of Pohjola. Väinämöinen drives away the
plagues, kills the bear, and renews fire from a conflagration caused by
a spark sent down from heaven by the god Ukko. Ilmarinen then prepares
chains for Louhi, and terrifies her into restoring the sun and moon to
their original places.
Runo L. The virgin Marjatta swallows a cranberry, and brings forth a
son, who is proclaimed King of Carelia. Väinämöinen in great anger quits
the country in his boat, but leaves the kantele and his songs behind him
for the pleasure of the people.
* * * * *
As a specimen of the Finnish language, I quote the original text of a
few lines from the charming passage at the commencement of Runo VIII
(lines 1-16):--
Tuo oli kaunis Pohjan neiti,
Maan kuula, ve'en valio,
Istui ilman wempelellä,
Taivon kaarella kajotti
Pukehissa puhtaissa,
Walkeissa vaattehissa;
Kultakangasta kutovi,
Hopeista huolittavi
Kultaisesta sukkulasta,
Pirralla hopeisella.
Suihki sukkula piossa,
Käämi käessä kääperöitsi,
Niiet vaskiset vatisi,
Hopeinen pirta piukki
Neien kangasta kutoissa,
Hopeista huolittaissa.
The _Kalevala_ is very unlike any poem familiar to general readers, but
it contains much that is extremely curious and interesting; and many
beautiful passages and episodes which are by no means inferior to those
we find in the ballad-literature of better-known countries than Finland.
W. F. KIRBY.
_Chiswick, May_ 1907
CONTENTS OF VOL. I
RUNO PAGE
INTRODUCTION vii
I. BIRTH OF VÄINÄMÖINEN 1
II. VÄINÄMÖINEN'S SOWING 10
III. VÄINÄMÖINEN AND JOUKAHAINEN 20
IV. THE FATE OF AINO 35
V. VÄINÄMÖINEN'S FISHING 48
VI. JOUKAHAINEN'S CROSSBOW 55
VII. VÄINÄMÖINEN AND LOUHI 61
VIII. VÄINÄMÖINEN'S WOUND 71
IX. THE ORIGIN OF IRON 78
X. THE FORGING OF THE SAMPO 93
XI. LEMMINKAINEN AND KYLLIKKI 106
XII. LEMMINKAINEN'S FIRST EXPEDITION TO POHJOLA 117
XIII. HIISI'S ELK 130
XIV. LEMMINKAINEN'S DEATH 137
XV. LEMMINKAINEN'S RECOVERY AND RETURN HOME 149
XVI. VÄINÄMÖINEN IN TUONELA 166
XVII. VÄINÄMÖINEN AND ANTERO VIPUNEN 177
XVIII. VÄINÄMÖINEN AND ILMARINEN TRAVEL TO POHJOLA 193
XIX. THE EXPLOITS AND BETROTHAL OF ILMARINEN 211
XX. THE GREAT OX, AND THE BREWING OF THE ALE 224
XXI. THE WEDDING FEAST AT POHJOLA 240
XXII. THE TORMENTING OF THE BRIDE 251
XXIII. THE INSTRUCTING OF THE BRIDE 264
XXIV. THE DEPARTURE OF THE BRIDE AND BRIDEGROOM 286
XXV. THE HOME-COMING OF THE BRIDE AND BRIDEGROOM 300
NOTES TO RUNOS I-XXV 319
RUNO I.--BIRTH OF VÄINÄMÖINEN
_Argument_
Prelude (1-102). The Virgin of the Air descends into the sea, where she
is fertilized by the winds and waves and becomes the Water-Mother
(103-176). A teal builds its nest on her knee, and lays eggs (177-212).
The eggs fall from the nest and break, but the fragments form the earth,
sky, sun, moon and clouds (213-244). The Water-Mother creates capes,
bays, sea-shores, and the depths and shallows of the ocean (245-280).
Väinämöinen is born from the Water-Mother, and is tossed about by the
waves for a long time until he reaches the shore (281-344).
I am driven by my longing,
And my understanding urges
That I should commence my singing;
And begin my recitation.
I will sing the people's legends,
And the ballads of the nation.
To my mouth the words are flowing,
And the words are gently falling,
Quickly as my tongue can shape them,
And between my teeth emerging. 10
Dearest friend, and much-loved brother,
Best beloved of all companions,
Come and let us sing together,
Let us now begin our converse,
Since at length we meet together,
From two widely sundered regions.
Rarely can we meet together,
Rarely one can meet the other,
In these dismal Northern regions,
In the dreary land of Pohja. 20
Let us clasp our hands together,
Let us interlock our fingers;
Let us sing a cheerful measure,
Let us use our best endeavours,
While our dear ones hearken to us,
And our loved ones are instructed,
While the young are standing round us,
Of the rising generation,
Let them learn the words of magic.
And recall our songs and legends, 30
Of the belt of Väinämöinen,
Of the forge of Ilmarinen,
And of Kaukomieli's sword-point,
And of Joukahainen's crossbow:
Of the utmost bounds of Pohja,
And of Kalevala's wide heathlands.
These my father sang aforetime,
As he carved his hatchet's handle,
And my mother taught me likewise,
As she turned around her spindle,
When upon the floor, an infant,
At her knees she saw me tumbling, 40
As a helpless child, milk-bearded,
As a babe with mouth all milky.
Tales about the Sampo failed not,
Nor the magic spells of Louhi.
Old at length became the Sampo;
Louhi vanished with her magic;
Vipunen while singing perished;
Lemminkainen in his follies. 50
There are many other legends;
Songs I learned of magic import;
Some beside the pathway gathered;
Others broken from the heather;
Others wrested from the bushes;
Others taken from the saplings,
Gathered from the springing verdure,
Or collected from the by-ways,
As I passed along as herd-boy,
As a child in cattle pastures, 60
On the hillocks, rich in honey,
On the hills, for ever golden,
After Muurikki, the black one,
By the side of dappled Kimmo.
Then the Frost his songs recited,
And the rain its legends taught me;
Other songs the winds have wafted,
Or the ocean waves have drifted;
And their songs the birds have added,
And the magic spells the tree-tops. 70
In a ball I bound them tightly;
And arranged them in a bundle;
On my little sledge I laid it,
On my sleigh I laid the bundle;
Home upon the sledge I brought it,
Then into the barn conveyed it;
In the storehouse loft I placed it,
In a little box of copper.
In the cold my song was resting,
Long remained in darkness hidden. 80
I must draw the songs from Coldness,
From the Frost must I withdraw them,
Bring my box into the chamber,
On the bench-end lay the casket,
Underneath this noble gable,
Underneath this roof of beauty.
Shall I ope my box of legends,
And my chest where lays are treasured?
Is the ball to be unravelled,
And the bundle's knot unfastened? 90
Then I'll sing so grand a ballad,
That it wondrously shall echo,
While the ryebread I am eating,
And the beer of barley drinking.
But though ale should not be brought me,
And though beer should not be offered,
I will sing, though dry my throttle,
Or will sing, with water only,
To enhance our evening's pleasure,
Celebrate the daylight's beauty, 100
Or the beauty of the daybreak,
When another day is dawning.
I have often heard related,
And have heard the song recited,
How the nights closed ever lonely,
And the days were shining lonely.
Only born was Väinämöinen,
And revealed the bard immortal,
Sprung from the divine Creatrix,
Born of Ilmatar, his mother. 110
Air's young daughter was a virgin,
Fairest daughter of Creation.
Long did she abide a virgin,
All the long days of her girlhood,
In the Air's own spacious mansions,
In those far extending regions.
Wearily the time passed ever.
And her life became a burden,
Dwelling evermore so lonely,
Always living as a maiden, 120
In the Air's own spacious mansions,
In those far-extending deserts.
After this the maid descending,
Sank upon the tossing billows,
On the open ocean's surface,
On the wide expanse of water.
Then a storm arose in fury,
From the East a mighty tempest,
And the sea was wildly foaming,
And the waves dashed ever higher. 130
Thus the tempest rocked the virgin,
And the billows drove the maiden,
O'er the ocean's azure surface,
On the crest of foaming billows,
Till the wind that blew around her,
And the sea woke life within her.
Then she bore her heavy burden,
And the pain it brought upon her,
Seven long centuries together,
Nine times longer than a lifetime. 140
Yet no child was fashioned from her,
And no offspring was perfected.
Thus she swam, the Water-Mother,
East she swam, and westward swam she,
Swam to north-west and to south-west,
And around in all directions,
In the sharpness of her torment,
In her body's fearful anguish;
Yet no child was fashioned from her,
And no offspring was perfected. 150
Then she fell to weeping gently,
And in words like these expressed her:
"O how wretched is my fortune,
Wandering thus, a child unhappy!
I have wandered far already,
And I dwell beneath the heaven,
By the tempest tossed for ever,
While the billows drive me onward.
O'er this wide expanse of water,
On the far-extending billows. 160
"Better were it had I tarried,
Virgin in aerial regions,
Then I should not drift for ever,
As the Mother of the Waters.
Here my life is cold and dreary,
Every moment now is painful,
Ever tossing on the billows,
Ever floating on the water.
"Ukko, thou of Gods the highest,
Ruler of the whole of heaven, 170
Hasten here, for thou art needed;
Hasten here at my entreaty.
Free the damsel from her burden,
And release her from her tortures.
Quickly haste, and yet more quickly,
Where I long for thee so sorely."
Short the time that passed thereafter,
Scarce a moment had passed over,
Ere a beauteous teal came flying
Lightly hovering o'er the water, 180
Seeking for a spot to rest in,
Searching for a home to dwell in.
Eastward flew she, westward flew she.
Flew to north-west and to southward,
But the place she sought she found not,
Not a spot, however barren,
Where her nest she could establish,
Or a resting-place could light on.
Then she hovered, slowly moving,
And she pondered and reflected, 190
"If my nest in wind I 'stablish
Or should rest it on the billows,
Then the winds will overturn it,
Or the waves will drift it from me."
Then the Mother of the Waters,
Water-Mother, maid aerial,
From the waves her knee uplifted,
Raised her shoulder from the billows,
That the teal her nest might 'stablish,
And might find a peaceful dwelling. 200
Then the teal, the bird so beauteous,
Hovered slow, and gazed around her,
And she saw the knee uplifted
From the blue waves of the ocean,
And she thought she saw a hillock,
Freshly green with springing verdure.
There she flew, and hovered slowly,
Gently on the knee alighting,
And her nest she there established,
And she laid her eggs all golden, 210
Six gold eggs she laid within it,
And a seventh she laid of iron.
O'er her eggs the teal sat brooding,
And the knee grew warm beneath her;
And she sat one day, a second,
Brooded also on the third day;
Then the Mother of the Waters,
Water-Mother, maid aerial,
Felt it hot, and felt it hotter,
And she felt her skin was heated, 220
Till she thought her knee was burning,
And that all her veins were melting.
Then she jerked her knee with quickness,
And her limbs convulsive shaking,
Rolled the eggs into the water,
Down amid the waves of ocean,
And to splinters they were broken,
And to fragments they were shattered.
In the ooze they were not wasted,
Nor the fragments in the water, 230
But a wondrous change came o'er them,
And the fragments all grew lovely.
From the cracked egg's lower fragment,
Now the solid earth was fashioned,
From the cracked egg's upper fragment,
Rose the lofty arch of heaven,
From the yolk, the upper portion,
Now became the sun's bright lustre;
From the white, the upper portion,
Rose the moon that shines so brightly; 240
Whatso in the egg was mottled,
Now became the stars in heaven,
Whatso in the egg was blackish,
In the air as cloudlets floated.
Now the time passed quickly over,
And the years rolled quickly onward,
In the new sun's shining lustre,
In the new moon's softer beaming.
Still the Water-Mother floated,
Water-Mother, maid aerial, 250
Ever on the peaceful waters,
On the billows' foamy surface,
With the moving waves before her,
And the heaven serene behind her.
When the ninth year had passed over,
And the summer tenth was passing,
From the sea her head she lifted,
And her forehead she uplifted,
And she then began Creation,
And she brought the world to order, 260
On the open ocean's surface,
On the far extending waters.
Wheresoe'er her hand she pointed,
There she formed the jutting headlands;
Wheresoe'er her feet she rested,
There she formed the caves for fishes;
When she dived beneath the water,
There she formed the depths of ocean;
When towards the land she turned her,
There the level shores extended, 270
Where her feet to land extended,
Spots were formed for salmon-netting;
Where her head the land touched lightly,
There the curving bays extended.
Further from the land she floated,
And abode in open water,
And created rocks in ocean,
And the reefs that eyes behold not,
Where the ships are often shattered,
And the sailors' lives are ended. 280
Now the isles were formed already,
In the sea the rocks were planted;
Pillars of the sky established,
Lands and continents created;
Rocks engraved as though with figures,
And the hills were cleft with fissures.
Still unborn was Väinämöinen;
Still unborn, the bard immortal.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Rested in his mother's body 290
For the space of thirty summers,
And the sum of thirty winters,
Ever on the placid waters,
And upon the foaming billows.
So he pondered and reflected
How he could continue living
In a resting-place so gloomy,
In a dwelling far too narrow,
Where he could not see the moonlight,
Neither could behold the sunlight. 300
Then he spake the words which follow,
And expressed his thoughts in this wise:
"Aid me Moon, and Sun release me,
And the Great Bear lend his counsel,
Through the portal that I know not,
Through the unaccustomed passage.
From the little nest that holds me,
From a dwelling-place so narrow,
To the land conduct the roamer,
To the open air conduct me, 310
To behold the moon in heaven,
And the splendour of the sunlight;
See the Great Bear's stars above me,
And the shining stars in heaven."
When the moon no freedom gave him,
Neither did the sun release him,
Then he wearied of existence,
And his life became a burden.
Thereupon he moved the portal,
With his finger, fourth in number, 320
Opened quick the bony gateway,
With the toes upon his left foot,
With his nails beyond the threshold,
With his knees beyond the gateway.
Headlong in the water falling,
With his hands the waves repelling,
Thus the man remained in ocean,
And the hero on the billows.
In the sea five years he sojourned,
Waited five years, waited six years, 330
Seven years also, even eight years,
On the surface of the ocean,
By a nameless promontory,
Near a barren, treeless country.
On the land his knees he planted,
And upon his arms he rested,
Rose that he might view the moonbeams,
And enjoy the pleasant sunlight,
See the Great Bear's stars above him,
And the shining stars in heaven. 340
Thus was ancient Väinämöinen,
He, the ever famous minstrel,
Born of the divine Creatrix,
Born of Ilmatar, his mother.
RUNO II.--VÄINÄMÖINEN'S SOWING
_Argument_
Väinämöinen lands on a treeless country and directs Sampsa Pellervoinen
to sow trees (1-42). At first the oak will not grow, but after repeated
sowings it springs up, overshadows the whole country, and hides the sun
and moon (43-110). A little man rises from the sea, who fells the oak,
and permits the sun and moon to shine again (111-224). Birds sing in the
trees; herbs, flowers and berries grow on the ground; only the barley
will not spring up (225-256). Väinämöinen finds some barleycorns in the
sand on the shore, and fells the forest, leaving only a birch-tree as a
resting-place for the birds (257-264). The eagle, grateful for this,
strikes fire, and the felled trees are consumed (265-284). Väinämöinen
sows the barley, prays to Ukko for its increase, and it grows and
flourishes (285-378).
Then did Väinämöinen, rising,
Set his feet upon the surface
Of a sea-encircled island,
In a region bare of forest.
There he dwelt, while years passed over,
And his dwelling he established
On the silent, voiceless island,
In a barren, treeless country.
Then he pondered and reflected,
In his mind he turned it over, 10
"Who shall sow this barren country,
Thickly scattering seeds around him?"
Pellervoinen, earth-begotten,
Sampsa, youth of smallest stature,
Came to sow the barren country,
Thickly scattering seeds around him.
Down he stooped the seeds to scatter,
On the land and in the marshes,
Both in flat and sandy regions,
And in hard and rocky places. 20
On the hills he sowed the pine-trees,
On the knolls he sowed the fir-trees,
And in sandy places heather;
Leafy saplings in the valleys.
In the dales he sowed the birch-trees,
In the loose earth sowed the alders,
Where the ground was damp the cherries,
Likewise in the marshes, sallows.
Rowan-trees in holy places,
Willows in the fenny regions, 30
Juniper in stony districts,
Oaks upon the banks of rivers.
Now the trees sprang up and flourished,
And the saplings sprouted bravely.
With their bloom the firs were loaded,
And the pines their boughs extended.
In the dales the birch was sprouting,
In the loose earth rose the alders,
Where the ground was damp the cherries,
Juniper in stony districts, 40
Loaded with its lovely berries;
And the cherries likewise fruited.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Came to view the work in progress,
Where the land was sown by Sampsa,
And where Pellervoinen laboured.
While he saw the trees had flourished,
And the saplings sprouted bravely,
Yet had Jumala's tree, the oak-tree,
Not struck down its root and sprouted. 50
Therefore to its fate he left it,
Left it to enjoy its freedom,
And he waited three nights longer,
And as many days he waited.
Then he went and gazed around him,
When the week was quite completed.
Yet had Jumala's tree, the oak-tree,
Not struck down its root and sprouted.
Then he saw four lovely maidens;
Five, like brides, from water rising; 60
And they mowed the grassy meadow,
Down they cut the dewy herbage,
On the cloud-encompassed headland,
On the peaceful island's summit,
What they mowed, they raked together,
And in heaps the hay collected.
From the ocean rose up Tursas,
From the waves arose the hero,
And the heaps of hay he kindled,
And the flames arose in fury. 70
All was soon consumed to ashes,
Till the sparks were quite extinguished.
Then among the heaps of ashes,
In the dryness of the ashes,
There a tender germ he planted,
Tender germ, of oak an acorn
Whence the beauteous plant sprang upward,
And the sapling grew and flourished,
As from earth a strawberry rises,
And it forked in both directions. 80
Then the branches wide extended,
And the leaves were thickly scattered,
And the summit rose to heaven,
And its leaves in air expanded.
In their course the clouds it hindered,
And the driving clouds impeded,
And it hid the shining sunlight,
And the gleaming of the moonlight.
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
Pondered deeply and reflected, 90
"Is there none to fell the oak-tree,
And o'erthrow the tree majestic?
Sad is now the life of mortals,
And for fish to swim is dismal,
Since the air is void of sunlight,
And the gleaming of the moonlight."
But they could not find a hero,
Nowhere find a man so mighty,
Who could fell the giant oak-tree,
With its hundred spreading branches. 100
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
Spoke the very words which follow;
"Noble mother, who hast borne me,
Luonnotar, who me hast nurtured;
Send me powers from out the ocean:
(Numerous are the powers of ocean)
So that they may fell the oak-tree,
And destroy the tree so baneful,
That the sun may shine upon us.
And the pleasant moonlight glimmer." 110
Then a man arose from ocean,
From the waves a hero started,
Not the hugest of the hugest,
Nor the smallest of the smallest.
As a man's thumb was his stature;
Lofty as the span of woman.
Decked his head a helm of copper,
On his feet were boots of copper,
On his hands were copper gauntlets.
Gloves adorned with copper tracings; 120
Round his waist his belt was copper;
In his belt his axe was copper;
And the haft thereof was thumb-long,
And the blade thereof was nail-long.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Deeply pondered and reflected:
"While he seems a man in semblance,
And a hero in appearance,
Yet his height is but a thumb-length,
Scarce as lofty as an ox-hoof." 130
Then he spoke the words which follow,
And expressed himself in this wise:
"Who are you, my little fellow,
Most contemptible of heroes,
Than a dead man scarcely stronger;
And your beauty all has vanished."
Then the puny man from ocean,
Hero of the floods, made answer:
"I'm a man as you behold me,
Small, but mighty water-hero, 140
I have come to fell the oak-tree,
And to splinter it to fragments."
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words which follow:
"You have hardly been created,
Neither made, nor so proportioned,
As to fell this mighty oak-tree,
Overthrow the tree stupendous."
Scarcely had the words been spoken,
While his gaze was fixed upon him, 150
When the man transformed before him,
And became a mighty hero.
While his feet the earth were stamping,
To the clouds his head he lifted,
To his knees his beard was flowing,
To his spurs his locks descended.
Fathom-wide his eyes were parted,
Fathom-wide his trousers measured;
Round his knee the girth was greater,
And around his hip 'twas doubled. 160
Then he sharpened keen the axe-blade,
Brought the polished blade to sharpness;
Six the stones on which he ground it,
Seven the stones on which he whet it.
Then the man stepped forward lightly,
Hastened on to do his mission;
Wide his trousers, and they fluttered
Round his legs as onward strode he,
And the first step taken, brought him
To the shore so soft and sandy; 170
With the second stride he landed
On the dun ground further inland,
And the third step brought him quickly,
Where the oak itself was rooted.
With his axe he smote the oak-tree,
With his sharpened blade he hewed it;
Once he smote it, twice he smote it,
And the third stroke wholly cleft it.
From the axe the flame was flashing,
Flame was bursting from the oak-tree, 180
As he strove to fell the oak-tree,
Overthrow the tree stupendous.
Thus the third blow was delivered,
And the oak-tree fell before him,
For the mighty tree was shattered,
And the hundred boughs had fallen,
And the trunk extended eastward,
And the summit to the north-west,
And the leaves were scattered southwards,
And the branches to the northward. 190
He who took a branch from off it,
Took prosperity unceasing,
What was broken from the summit,
Gave unending skill in magic;
He who broke a leafy branchlet,
Gathered with it love unending.
What remained of fragments scattered,
Chips of wood, and broken splinters,
On the bright expanse of ocean,
On the far-extending billows, 200
In the breeze were gently rocking,
On the waves were lightly drifted.
Like the boats on ocean's surface,
Like the ships amid the sea-waves.
Northward drove the wind the fragments,
Where the little maid of Pohja,
Stood on beach, and washed her head-dress,
And she washed her clothes and rinsed them,
On the shingle by the ocean,
On a tongue of land projecting. 210
On the waves she saw the fragments,
Put them in her birchbark wallet,
In her wallet took them homeward;
In the well-closed yard she stored them,
For the arrows of the sorcerer,
For the chase to furnish weapons.
When the oak at last had fallen,
And the evil tree was levelled,
Once again the sun shone brightly,
And the pleasant moonlight glimmered, 220
And the clouds extended widely,
And the rainbow spanned the heavens,
O'er the cloud-encompassed headland,
And the island's misty summit.
Then the wastes were clothed with verdure,
And the woods grew up and flourished;
Leaves on trees and grass in meadows.
In the trees the birds were singing,
Loudly sang the cheery throstle;
In the tree-tops called the cuckoo. 230
Then the earth brought forth her berries;
Shone the fields with golden blossoms;
Herbs of every species flourished;
Plants and trees of all descriptions;
But the barley would not flourish,
Nor the precious seed would ripen.
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
Walked around, and deeply pondered,
By the blue waves' sandy margin,
On the mighty ocean's border, 240
And six grains of corn he found there,
Seven fine seeds of corn he found there,
On the borders of the ocean,
On the yielding sandy margin.
In a marten's skin he placed them,
From the leg of summer squirrel.
Then he went to sow the fallows;
On the ground the seeds to scatter,
Near to Kaleva's own fountain,
And upon the field of Osmo. 250
From a tree there chirped the titmouse:
"Osmo's barley will not flourish,
Nor will Kaleva's oats prosper,
While untilled remains the country,
And uncleared remains the forest,
Nor the fire has burned it over."
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Ground his axe-blade edge to sharpness
And began to fell the forest,
Toiling hard to clear the country. 260
All the lovely trees he levelled,
Sparing but a single birch-tree,
That the birds might rest upon it,
And from thence might call the cuckoo.
In the sky there soared an eagle,
Of the birds of air the greatest,
And he came and gazed around him.
"Wherefore is the work unfinished,
And the birch-tree still unfallen?
Wherefore spare the beauteous birch-tree?"
Said the aged Väinämöinen, 270
"Therefore is the birch left standing,
That the birds may perch upon it;
All the birds of air may rest there."
Said the bird of air, the eagle,
"Very wisely hast thou acted,
Thus to leave the birch-tree standing
And the lovely tree unfallen,
That the birds may perch upon it,
And that I myself may rest there."
Then the bird of air struck fire, 280
And the flames rose up in brightness,
While the north wind fanned the forest,
And the north-east wind blew fiercely.
All the trees were burned to ashes,
Till the sparks were quite extinguished.
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
Took the six seeds from his satchel,
And he took the seven small kernels,
From the marten's skin he took them,
From the leg of summer squirrel, 290
From the leg of summer ermine.
Then he went to sow the country,
And to scatter seeds around him,
And he spoke the words which follow;
"Now I stoop the seeds to scatter,
As from the Creator's fingers,
From the hand of Him Almighty,
That the country may be fertile,
And the corn may grow and flourish.
"Patroness of lowland country, 300
Old one of the plains; Earth-Mother,
Let the tender blade spring upward,
Let the earth support and cherish.
Might of earth will never fail us,
Never while the earth existeth,
When the Givers are propitious.
And Creation's daughters aid us.
"Rise, O earth; from out thy slumber,
Field of the Creator, rouse thee,
Make the blade arise and flourish. 310
Let the stalks grow up and lengthen,
That the ears may grow by thousands,
Yet a hundredfold increasing,
By my ploughing and my sowing,
In return for all my labour.
"Ukko, thou of Gods the highest.
Father, thou in heaven abiding,
Thou to whom the clouds are subject.
Of the scattered clouds the ruler, 320
All thy clouds do thou assemble,
In the light make clear thy counsel,
Send thou forth a cloud from eastwards
In the north-west let one gather,
Send thou others from the westward,
Let them drive along from southward.
Send the light rain forth from heaven,
Let the clouds distil with honey,
That the corn may sprout up strongly,
And the stalks may wave and rustle." 330
Ukko, then, of Gods the highest,
Father of the highest heaven,
Heard, and all the clouds assembled.
In the light made clear his counsel,
And he sent a cloud from eastward.
In the north-west let one gather,
Others, too, he sent from westward,
Let them drive along from southward,
Linked them edge to edge together,
And he closed the rifts between them. 340
Then he sent the rain from heaven,
And the clouds distilled sweet honey,
That the corn might sprout up stronger,
And the stalks might wave and rustle.
Thus the sprouting germ was nourished,
And the rustling stalks grew upward,
From the soft earth of the cornfield.
Through the toil of Väinämöinen.
After this, two days passed over,
After two nights, after three nights, 350
When the week was full completed,
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Wandered forth to see the progress;
How his ploughing and his sowing
And his labours had resulted.
There he found the barley growing,
And the ears were all six-cornered,
And the stalks were all three-knotted.
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Wandered on and gazed around him, 360
And the cuckoo, bird of springtime,
Came and saw the birch-tree growing.
"Wherefore is the birch left standing,
And unfelled the slender birch-tree?"
Said the aged Väinämöinen,
"Therefore is the birch left standing,
And unfelled the slender birch-tree,
As a perch for thee, O Cuckoo;
Whence the cuckoo's cry may echo.
From thy sand-hued throat cry sweetly, 370
With thy silver voice call loudly,
With thy tin-like voice cry clearly,
Call at morning, call at evening,
And at noontide call thou likewise,
To rejoice my plains surrounding,
That my woods may grow more cheerful,
That my coast may grow more wealthy,
And my region grow more fruitful."
RUNO III.--VÄINÄMÖINEN AND JOUKAHAINEN
_Argument_
Väinämöinen increases in wisdom and composes songs (1-20). Joukahainen
sets out to contend with him in wisdom; but as he cannot overcome him,
he challenges him to a duel, whereupon Väinämöinen grows angry, and
sinks him in a swamp by his magic songs (21-330). Joukahainen, in great
distress, finally offers his sister Aino in marriage to Väinämöinen, who
accepts the offer and releases him (331-476). Joukahainen returns home
discomfited, and relates his misfortunes to his mother (477-524). The
mother rejoices at the prospect of such an alliance, but the daughter
laments and weeps (525-580).
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast
Passed the days of his existence
Where lie Väinölä's sweet meadows,
Kalevala's extended heathlands:
There he sang his songs of sweetness
Sang his songs and proved his wisdom.
Day by day he sang unwearied,
Night by night discoursed unceasing,
Sang the songs of by-gone ages,
Hidden words of ancient wisdom, 10
Songs which all the children sing not.
All beyond men's comprehension,
In these ages of misfortune,
When the race is near Its ending.
Far away the news was carried,
Far abroad was spread the tidings
Of the songs of Väinämöinen,
Of the wisdom of the hero;
In the south was spread the rumour;
Reached to Pohjola the tidings. 20
Here dwelt youthful Joukahainen,
He, the meagre youth of Lapland;
And, when visiting the village,
Wondrous tales he heard related,
How there dwelt another minstrel,
And that better songs were carolled.
Far in Väinölä's sweet meadows,
Kalevala's extended heathlands;
Better songs than he could compass;
Better than his father taught him. 30
This he heard with great displeasure,
And his heart was filled with envy
That the songs of Väinämöinen
Better than his own were reckoned.
Then he went to seek his mother;
Sought her out, the aged woman,
And declared that he would journey,
And was eager to betake him,
Unto Väinölä's far dwellings,
That he might contend with Väinö. 40
But his father straight forbade him.
Both his father and his mother,
Thence to Väinölä to journey,
That he might contend with Väinö.
"He will surely sing against you,
Sing against you, and will ban you,
Sink your mouth and head in snow-drifts,
And your hands in bitter tempest:
Till your hands and feet are stiffened,
And incapable of motion." 50
Said the youthful Joukahainen,
"Good the counsel of my father,
And my mother's counsel better;
Best of all my own opinion.
I will set myself against him,
And defy him to a contest,
I myself my songs will sing him,
I myself will speak my mantras;
Sing until the best of minstrels
Shall become the worst of singers. 60
Shoes of stone will I provide him,
Wooden trousers on his haunches;
On his breast a stony burden,
And a rock upon his shoulders;
Stony gloves his hands shall cover.
And his head a stony helmet."
Then he went his way unheeding,
Went his way, and fetched his gelding,
From whose mouth the fire was flashing,
'Neath whose legs the sparks were flying. 70
Then the fiery steed he harnessed,
To the golden sledge he yoked him,
In the sledge himself he mounted,
And upon the seat he sat him,
O'er the horse his whip he brandished,
With the beaded whip he smote him,
From the place the horse sprang quickly,
And he darted lightly forwards.
On he drove with thundering clatter,
As he drove a day, a second, 80
Driving also on the third day,
And at length upon the third day,
Came to Väinölä's sweet meadows,
Kalevala's extended heathlands.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
He, the oldest of magicians,
As it chanced was driving onward,
Peacefully his course pursuing
On through Väinölä's sweet meadows,
Kalevala's extended heathlands. 90
Came the youthful Joukahainen
Driving on the road against him,
And the shafts were wedged together,
And the reins were all entangled,
And the collar jammed with collar,
And the runners dashed together.
Thus their progress was arrested,
Thus they halted and reflected;
Sweat dropped down upon the runners;
From the shafts the steam was rising. 100
Asked the aged Väinämöinen,
"Who are you, and what your lineage,
You who drive so reckless onward,
Utterly without reflection?
Broken are the horses' collars,
And the wooden runners likewise;
You have smashed my sledge to pieces.
Broke the sledge in which I travelled."
Then the youthful Joukahainen
Answered in the words which follow: 110
"I am youthful Joukahainen;
But yourself should also tell me,
What your race, and what your nation,
And from what vile stock you issue."
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Told his name without concealment,
And began to speak as follows:
"Youth, if you are Joukahainen,
You should move aside a little.
For remember, you are younger." 120