“But the words were heard by Hiisi,
One for mischief always ready,
And he set about creating;
Hiisi gave a life unto it,
Of the slime of toad disgusting,
From Syöjätär’s filthy spittle,
Formed from this a twisting serpent,
To a black snake he transformed it.

“Whence the life he gave unto it?
Life he brought from Hiisi’s coal-heap.
Whence was then its heart created?
Out of Syöjätär’s own heartstrings.
Whence the brains for this foul creature?
From a mighty torrent’s foaming.
Whence its sense obtained the monster?
From a furious cataract’s foaming.
Whence a head, this foul enchantment?
From the bean, a bean all rotten.
Whence were then its eyes created?
From a seed of flax of Lempo.
Whence were the toad’s ears created?
From the leaves of Lempo’s birch-tree.
Whence was then its mouth constructed?
Syöjätär’s own mouth supplied it.
Whence the tongue in mouth so evil?
From the spear of Keitolainen.
Teeth for such an evil creature?
From the beard of Tuoni’s barley.
Whence its filthy gums created?
From the gums of Kalma’s maiden.
Whence was then its back constructed?
Of the coals of fire of Hiisi.
Whence its wriggling tail constructed?
From the plaits of Pahalainen.
Whence its entrails were constructed?
These were drawn from Death’s own girdle.

“This thy origin, O serpent,
This thy honour, as reported;
Black snake from the world infernal,
Serpent of the hue of Tuoni,
Hue of earth, and hue of heather,
All the colours of the rainbow.
Go from out the wanderer’s pathway,
From before the travelling hero,
Yield the pathway to the traveller,
Make a way for Lemminkainen
To the feast at Pohja holden,
Where they hold the great carousal.”

Then the snake obeyed his orders,
And the hundred-eyed drew backward,
And the great snake twisted sideways,
Turning in a new direction,
Giving thus the traveller pathway,
Making way for Lemminkainen
To the feast at Pohja holden,
And the secret-held carousal.

Runo XXVII.
The Duel at Pohjola

Argument

Lemminkainen comes to Pohjola and behaves with the greatest insolence (1-204). The Lord of Pohjola grows angry, and as he can do nothing against Lemminkainen by magic, he challenges him to a duel (205-282). In the course of the duel Lemminkainen strikes off the head of the Lord of Pohjola, and to avenge this, the Mistress of Pohjola raises an army against him (283-420).

Now that I have brought my Kauko,
Carried Ahto Saarelainen,
Often past Death’s jaw expanded,
Past the very tongue of Kalma,
To the banquet held at Pohja,
And to the concealed carousal,
Now must I relate in detail,
And my tongue relate in fulness,
How the lively Lemminkainen,
He the handsome Kaukomieli,
To the homestead came of Pohja,
Halls of Sariola the misty,
Uninvited to the banquet,
To the drinking-bout unbidden.

Thus the lively Lemminkainen,
Ruddy youth, and arrant scoundrel,
In the room at once came forward,
Walking to the very middle;
’Neath him swayed the floor of linden,
And the room of firwood rattled.

Spoke the lively Lemminkainen,
And he said the words which follow:
“Greetings to ye on my coming,
Greetings also to the greeter!
Hearken, Pohjola’s great Master,
Have you here within this dwelling,
Barley for the horse’s fodder,
Beer to offer to the hero?”

There sat Pohjola’s great Master,
At the end of the long table,
And from thence he made his answer,
In the very words which follow:
“Perhaps there is within this dwelling,
Standing room for your fine courser,
Nor would I indeed forbid you
In the room a quiet corner,
Or to stand within the doorway,
In the doorway, ’neath the rafters,
In the space between two kettles,
There where three large hoes are standing.”

Then the lively Lemminkainen
Tore his black beard in his anger,
(’Twas the colour of a kettle),
And he spoke the words which follow:
“Lempo might perchance be willing,
Thus to stand within the doorway,
Where he might with soot be dirtied,
While the soot falls all around him!
But at no time did my father,
Never did my aged father
Ever stand in such a station,
In the doorway, ’neath the rafters!
There was always room sufficient
For his horse within the stable,
And a clean room for the hero,
And a place to put his gloves in,
Pegs whereon to hang his mittens,
Walls where swords may rest in order.
Why should I not also find it,
As my father always found it?”

After this he strode on further,
To the end of the long table,
At the bench-end then he sat him,
At the end of bench of firwood,
And the bench it cracked beneath him,
And the bench of firwood tottered.

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
“Seems to me that I’m unwelcome,
As no ale is offered to me,
To the guest who just has entered.”

Ilpotar, the noble Mistress,
Answered in the words which follow:
“O thou boy, O Lemminkainen,
Not as guest thou com’st among us,
But upon my head to trample,
And to make it bow before you,
For our ale is still in barley.
Still in malt the drink delicious,
And the wheatbread still unbaken,
And unboiled the meat remaineth.
Yesternight you should have entered,
Or perchance have come to-morrow.”

Then the lively Lemminkainen,
Twisted mouth and turned his head round,
Tore his black beard in his anger,
And he spoke the words which follow:
“Eaten is the feast already,
Finished feast, and drunk the bride-ale,
And the ale has been divided,
To the men the mead been given,
And the cans away been carried,
And the pint-pots laid in storage.

“Pohjola’s illustrious Mistress,
Long-toothed Mistress of Pimentola,
Thou hast held the wedding badly,
And in doggish fashion held it,
Baked the bread in loaves enormous,
Thou hast brewed the beer of barley,
Six times sent thy invitations,
Nine times hast thou sent a summons,
Thou hast asked the poor, the spectres,
Asked the scum, and asked the wastrels,
Asked the leanest of the loafers,
Labourers with one garment only;
All folks else thou hast invited,
Me rejected uninvited.

“Wherefore should I thus be treated,
When I sent myself the barley?
Others brought it by the spoonful,
Others poured it out by dishfuls,
But I poured it out in bushels,
By the half-ton out I poured it,
Of my own, the best of barley,
Corn which I had sown aforetime.

“’Tis not now that Lemminkainen,
Is a guest of great distinction,
For no ale is offered to me,
Nor the pot set on the fire.
In the pot is nothing cooking,
Not a pound of pork you give me,
Neither food nor drink you give me,
Now my weary journey’s ended.”

Ilpotar, the noble Mistress,
Uttered then the words which follow:
“O my little waiting-maiden,
O my ever-ready servant,
Put into the pot some dinner,
Bring some ale to give the stranger.”

Then the girl, the child so wretched,
Washed the worst of all the dishes,
And the spoons she then was wiping,
And the ladles she was scouring,
Then into the pot put dinner,
Bones of meat, and heads of fishes,
Very ancient stalks of turnips,
Crusts of bread of stony hardness,
And a pint of ale she brought him,
And a can of filthy victuals,
Gave it lively Lemminkainen
That he should drink out the refuse,
And she spoke the words which follow:
“If you are indeed a hero,
Can you drink the ale I bring you,
Nor upset the can that holds it?”

Lemminkainen, youth so lively,
Looked at once into the pint-pot,
And below a worm was creeping,
In the midst there crept a serpent,
On the edge were serpents creeping,
Lizards also there were gliding.

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
Loudly grumbled Kaukomieli,
“Off to Tuonela the bearer,
Quick to Manala the handmaid,
Ere the moon again has risen,
Or this very day is ended!”

Afterwards these words he added,
“O thou beer, thou drink so nasty,
In an evil hour concocted,
Evil only lurks within thee!
Notwithstanding I will drink it,
On the ground will cast the refuse,
With my nameless finger lift it,
With my left thumb will I lift it.”

Then he felt into his pocket,
And within his pouch was searching,
Took an angle from his pocket,
Iron hooks from out his satchel,
Dropped it down into the pint-pot,
In the ale began to angle,
Hooked the snakes upon his fish-hooks,
On his hooks the evil vipers,
Up he drew of toads a hundred,
And of dusky snakes a thousand.
Down upon the ground he threw them,
Threw them all upon the planking,
Thereupon a sharp knife taking,
From the sheath he quickly drew it,
Cut the heads from off the serpents,
Broke the necks of all the serpents.
Then he drank the ale with gusto,
Drank the black mead with enjoyment,
And he spoke the words which follow:
“As a guest I am not honoured,
Since no ale was brought unto me
Which was better worth my drinking,
Offered me by hands more careful,
In a larger vessel brought me;
Since no sheep was slaughtered for me,
No gigantic steer was slaughtered,
In the hall no ox they brought me,
From the house of hooféd cattle.”

Then did Pohjola’s great Master,
Answer in the words which follow:
“Wherefore have you then come hither,
Who invited you among us?”

Answered lively Lemminkainen,
Said the handsome Kaukomieli:
“Good is perhaps the guest invited,
Better still if uninvited.
Hearken then, thou son of Pohja,
Pohjola’s illustrious Master,
Give me ale for cash directly,
Reach me here some drink for money.”

Then did Pohjola’s great Master,
Angry grow and greatly furious,
Very furious and indignant,
Sang a pond upon the flooring,
In the front of Lemminkainen,
And he said the words which follow:
“Here’s a river you may drink of,
Here’s a pond that you may splash in.”

Little troubled Lemminkainen,
And he spoke the words which follow:
“I’m no calf by women driven,
Nor a bull with tail behind me,
That I drink of river-water,
Or from filthy ponds the water.”

Then himself began to conjure,
And, himself commenced his singing,
Sang upon the floor a bullock,
Mighty ox with horns all golden,
And he soon drank up the puddle,
Drank the river up with pleasure.

But the mighty son of Pohja,
By his spells a wolf created,
And upon the floor he sang him,
To devour the fleshy bullock.

Lemminkainen, youth so lively
Sang a white hare to his presence,
And upon the floor ’twas leaping,
Near the wolf-jaws widely opened.

But the mighty son of Pohja,
Sang a dog with pointed muzzle;
And the dog the hare devoured,
Rent the Squint-eye into fragments.

Lemminkainen, youth so lively,
On the rafters sang a squirrel,
And it frolicked on the rafters,
And the dog was barking at it.

But the mighty son of Pohja,
Sang a golden-breasted marten,
And the marten seized the squirrel,
On the rafter’s end while sitting.

Lemminkainen, youth so lively,
Sang a fox of ruddy colour,
And it killed the gold-breast marten,
And destroyed the handsome-haired one.

But the mighty son of Pohja
By his spells a hen created,
And upon the ground ’twas walking,
Just before the fox’s muzzle.

Lemminkainen, youth so lively,
Thereupon a hawk created,
Quickly with its claws it seized it,
And it tore the hen to pieces.

Then said Pohjola’s great Master,
In the very words which follow:
“Better will not be the banquet,
Nor the guest-provision lessened.
House for work, the road for strangers,
Unrefreshed from the carousal!
Quit this place, O scamp of Hiisi,
Haste away from all folks’ knowledge,
To thy home, O toad the basest,
Forth, O scoundrel, to thy country!”

Answered lively Lemminkainen,
Said the handsome Kaukomieli,
“None would let himself be banished,
Not a man, how bad soever,
From this place be ever driven,
Forced to fly from such a station.”

Then did Pohjola’s great Master,
Snatch his sword from wall where hanging,
Grasped in haste the sharpened weapon,
And he spoke the words which follow:
“O thou Ahti Saarelainen,
Or thou handsome Kaukomieli,
Let us match our swords together,
Match the glitter of the sword-blades,
Whether my sword is the better,
Or is Ahti Saarelainen’s.”

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
“Little of my sword is left me,
For on bones it has been shattered,
And on skulls completely broken!
But let this be as it may be,
If no better feast is ready,
Let us struggle, and determine
Which of our two swords is favoured.
Ne’er in former times my father
In a duel has been worsted,
Why should then his son be different,
Or his child be like a baby?”

Sword he took, and bared his sword-blade,
And he drew his sharp-edged weapon,
Drew it from the leather scabbard,
Hanging at his belt of lambskin.
Then they measured and inspected
Which of their two swords was longer,
And a very little longer,
Was the sword of Pohja’s Master,
As upon the nail the blackness,
Or a half-joint of a finger.

Spoke then Ahti Saarelainen,
Said the handsome Kaukomieli,
“As your sword is rather longer,
Let the first attack be yours.”

Then did Pohjola’s great Master,
Aim a blow, and tried to strike him,
Aimed his sword, but never struck it,
On the head of Lemminkainen.
Once indeed he struck the rafters,
And the beams resounded loudly,
And across the beam was shattered,
And the arch in twain was broken.

Then spoke Ahti Saarelainen,
Said the handsome Kaukomieli:
“Well, what mischief did the rafters,
And what harm the beam effected,
That you thus attack the rafters,
And have made the arch to rattle?

“Hear me, son of Pohja’s country,
Pohjola’s illustrious Master,
Awkward ’tis in room to combat,
Trouble would it give the women,
If the clean room should be damaged,
And with blood defiled the flooring.
Let us go into the courtyard,
In the field outside to battle,
On the grass outside to combat.
In the yard the blood looks better,
In the yard it looks more lovely,
On the snow it looks much better.”

Out into the yard they wandered,
And they found therein a cowhide,
And they spread it in the courtyard,
And they took their stand upon it.

Then said Ahti Saarelainen,
“Hearken, O thou son of Pohja!
As your sword is rather longer,
And your sword is more terrific,
Perhaps indeed you need to use it,
Just before your own departure,
Or before your neck is broken.
Strike away, O son of Pohja.”

Fenced away the son of Pohja,
Struck a blow, and struck a second,
And he struck a third blow after,
But he could not strike him fairly,
Could not scratch the flesh upon him,
From his skin a single bristle.

Then spoke Ahti Saarelainen,
Said the handsome Kaukomieli,
“Give me leave to try a little,
For at last my time is coming.”

Natheless Pohjola’s great Master,
Did not pay the least attention,
Striking on, without reflection,
Ever striking, never hitting.
From his sword-blade flashed red fire,
And its edge was always gleaming
In the hands of Lemminkainen,
And the sheen extended further,
As against the neck he turned it,
Of the mighty son of Pohja.

Said the handsome Lemminkainen,
“Hearken, Pohjola’s great Master,
True it is, thy neck so wretched,
Is as red as dawn of morning.”

Thereupon the son of Pohja,
He, the mighty lord of Pohja,
Bent his eyes that he might witness
How his own neck had been reddened.
Then the lively Lemminkainen,
Hurriedly a stroke delivered,
With his sword he struck the hero,
Quickly with the sword he struck him.

Full and fair he struck the hero,
Struck his head from off his shoulders,
And the skull from neck he severed,
As from off the stalk a turnip,
Or an ear of corn is severed,
From a fish a fin divided.
In the yard the head went rolling,
And the skull in the enclosure,
As when it is struck by arrow
Falls the capercail from tree-top.

In the ground stood stakes a hundred,
In the yard there stood a thousand,
On the stakes were heads a hundred,
Only one stake still was headless.
Then the lively Lemminkainen
Took the head of the poor fellow;
From the ground the skull he lifted,
And upon the stake he set it.

Then did Ahti Saarelainen,
He the handsome Kaukomieli,
Once again the house re-enter,
And he spoke the words which follow:
“Wicked maid, now bring me water,
That I wash my hands and cleanse them,
From the blood of wicked Master,
From the gore of man of evil.”

Furious was the Crone of Pohja,
Wild with wrath and indignation,
And at once she sang up swordsmen,
Heroes well equipped for battle.
Up she sang a hundred swordsmen,
Sang a thousand weapon-bearers,
Lemminkainen’s head to capture,
From the neck of Kaukomieli.

Now the time seemed really coming,
Fitting time for his departure,
Terror came at length upon him,
And too hard the task before him;
From the house the youthful Ahti
Lemminkainen quick departed,
From the feast prepared at Pohja,
From the unannounced carousal.

Runo XXVIII.
Lemminkainen and His Mother

Argument

Lemminkainen escapes with all speed from Pohjola, comes home and asks his mother where he can hide himself from the people of Pohjola, who will soon attack him in his home, a hundred to one (1-164). His mother reproaches him for his expedition to Pohjola, suggests various places of concealment, and at length advises him to go far across the lakes to a distant island, where his father once lived in peace during a year of great war (165-294).

Then did Ahti Saarelainen,
He the lively Lemminkainen,
Haste to reach a place for hiding,
Hasten quickly to remove him
From the gloomy land of Pohja,
From the gloomy house of Sara.

From the room he rushed like snowfall,
To the yard like snake he hurried,
That he might escape the evil,
From the crime he had committed.

When he came into the courtyard,
Then he gazed around and pondered,
Seeking for the horse he left there,
But he nowhere saw him standing;
In the field a stone was standing,
On the waste a clump of willows.

Who will come to give him counsel,
Who will now advise and help him,
That his head come not in danger,
And his hair remain uninjured,
Nor his handsome hair be draggled
In the courtyard foul of Pohja?
In the village heard he shouting,
Uproar too from other homesteads,
Lights were shining in the village,
Eyes were at the open windows.

Then must lively Lemminkainen,
Then must Ahti Saarelainen,
Alter now his shape completely,
And transform without delaying,
And must soar aloft as eagle,
Up to heaven to soar attempting;
But the sun his face was scorching,
And the moon shone on his temples.

Then the lively Lemminkainen,
Sent aloft a prayer to Ukko:
“Ukko, Jumala most gracious,
Thou the wisest in the heavens,
Of the thunderclouds the leader,
Of the scattered clouds the ruler!
Let it now be gloomy weather,
And a little cloudlet give me,
So that under its protection
I may hasten homeward quickly,
Homeward to my dearest mother,
Unto the revered old woman.”

As he flew upon his journey,
As he chanced to look behind him,
There he saw a hawk, a grey one,
And its eyes were fiery-glowing,
As it were the son of Pohja,
Like the former lord of Pohja.

And the grey hawk called unto him,
“Ahti, O my dearest brother,
Think you on our former combat,
Head to head in equal contest?”

Then said Ahti Saarelainen,
Said the handsome Kaukomieli,
“O my hawk, my bird so charming,
Turn thyself and hasten homeward,
To the place from which you started,
To the gloomy land of Pohja.
Hard it is to catch the eagle,
Clutch the strong-winged bird with talons.”

Then he hurried quickly homeward,
Homeward to his dearest mother,
And his face was full of trouble,
And his heart with care o’erladen.

Then his mother came to meet him,
As along the path he hurried,
As he past the fence was walking,
And his mother first bespoke him.
“O my son, my son, my youngest,
Thou the strongest of my children!
Why returnest thou so sadly,
Home from Pohjola’s dark regions?
Hast thou harmed thyself by drinking
At the drinking-bout of Pohja?
If the goblet made thee suffer,
Here a better one awaits thee,
Which thy father won in battle,
Which he fought for in the contest.”

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
“O my mother who hast borne me,
If the goblet made me suffer,
I would overcome the masters,
Overcome a hundred heroes,
And would face a thousand heroes.”

Then said Lemminkainen’s mother,
“Wherefore art thou then in trouble?
If the horse has overcome you,
Wherefore let the horse annoy you?
If the horse has overcome you,
You should buy yourself a better,
With your father’s lifelong savings,
Which the aged man provided.”

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
“O my mother who hast borne me,
If I quarrelled with the courser,
Or the foal had over-reached me,
I myself have shamed the masters,
Overcome the horses’ drivers,
Foals and drivers I have vanquished,
And the heroes with their coursers.”

Then said Lemminkainen’s mother,
“Wherefore art thou then in trouble,
Wherefore is thy heart so troubled,
As from Pohjola thou comest?
Have the women laughed about you,
Or the maidens ridiculed you?
If the women laughed about you,
Or the maidens ridiculed you,
There are maidens to be jeered at,
Other women to be laughed at.”

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
“O my mother who hast borne me,
If the women laughed about me,
Or the maidens ridiculed me,
I would laugh at all their menfolk,
And would wink at all the maidens,
I would shame a hundred women,
And a thousand brides would make them.”

Then said Lemminkainen’s mother,
“What has chanced, my son, my darling,
Hast thou perhaps encountered something
As to Pohjola thou wentest?
Have you eaten perhaps too freely,
Eaten much, too much have drunken,
Or at night perchance when resting
Have you seen a dream of evil?”

Then the lively Lemminkainen,
Answered in the words which follow:
“Perhaps old women may remember,
What in sleep they saw in vision!
Though my nightly dreams I think on,
Yet are those of daytime better.
O my mother, aged woman,
Fill my bag with fresh provisions,
With a good supply of flour,
And a lump of salt add likewise,
For thy son must travel further,
Journey to another country,
Journey from this house beloved,
Journey from this lovely dwelling,
For the men their swords are whetting,
And the lance-tips they are sharpening.”

Then his mother interrupted,
Asking him his cause of trouble.
“Wherefore whet the men their sword-blades,
Wherefore sharpen they the lance-tips?”

Answered lively Lemminkainen,
Said the handsome Kaukomieli,
“Therefore do they whet their sword-blades,
Therefore they the lance-tips sharpen:
On the head of me unhappy,
On my neck to bring destruction.
From a quarrel rose a duel,
There in Pohjola’s enclosure;
I have slain the son of Pohja,
Slain the very lord of Pohja,
Then rose Pohjola to battle,
Close behind me comes the tumult,
Raging all for my destruction,
To surround a single warrior.”

Then his mother gave him answer,
To her child the old crone answered:
“I myself already told you,
And I had already warned you,
And forbidden you most strictly
Not to Pohjola to venture.
Had you stayed at home in quiet,
Living in your mother’s dwelling,
Safely in your parent’s homestead,
In the home of her who bore thee,
Then no war had ever risen,
Nor appeared a cause of contest.

“Whither now, my son unhappy,
Canst thou flee, unhappy creature,
Go to hide thee from destruction,
Flying from thy wicked action,
Lest thy wretched head be captured,
And thy handsome neck be severed,
That thy hair remain uninjured,
Nor thy glossy hair downtrodden?”

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
“No such refuge do I know of,
Where a safe retreat awaits me,
Where I from my crime can hide me.
O my mother who hast borne me,
Where do you advise my hiding?”

Answered Lemminkainen’s mother,
And she spoke the words which follow:
“No, I know not where to hide you,
Where to hide you or to send you.
As a pine upon the mountain,
Juniper in distant places,
There might still misfortune find thee,
Evil fate might rise against thee.
Often is the mountain pine-tree
Cut to pieces into torches,
And the juniper on heathland,
Into posts is often cloven.

“As a birch-tree in the valley,
Or an alder in the greenwood,
There might still misfortune find thee,
Evil fate might rise against thee.
Often is the valley birch-tree
Chopped to pieces into faggots,
Often is the alder-thicket
Cut away to make a clearing.

“As a berry on the mountain,
Or upon the heath a cranberry,
Or upon the plain a strawberry,
Or in other spots a bilberry,
There might still misfortune find thee,
Evil fate might rise against thee,
For the girls might come to pluck thee,
Tin-adorned ones might uproot thee.

“In the lake as pike when hiding,
Powan in slow-flowing river,
There misfortune still might find thee,
And at last destruction reach thee.
If there came a youthful fisher,
He might cast his net in water,
And the young in net might take thee,
And the old with net might capture.

“Didst thou roam as wolf in forest,
Or a bear in rugged country,
There might still misfortune find thee,
Evil fate might rise against thee;
If a sooty tramp was passing,
He perchance might spear the growler,
Or the wolves bring to destruction,
And the forest bears might slaughter.”

Then the lively Lemminkainen
Answered in the words which follow:
“I myself know evil places,
Worst of all do I esteem them,
There where any death might seize me,
And at last destruction reach me.
O my mother who hast reared me,
Mother who thy milk hast given,
Whither would’st thou bid me hide me,
Whither should I now conceal me?
Death’s wide jaws are just before me,
At my beard destruction’s standing,
Every day for me it waiteth,
Till my ruin is accomplished.”

Then said Lemminkainen’s mother,
And she spoke the words which follow:
“I can tell the best of places,
Tell you one the best of any,
Where to hide yourself completely,
And your crime conceal for ever,
For I know a little country,
Know a very little refuge,
Wasted not, and safe from battle,
And untrodden by the swordsmen.
Swear me now by oaths eternal,
Binding, free from all deception,
In the course of sixty summers,
Nevermore to go to battle,
Neither for the love of silver,
Nor perchance if gold was needed.”

Then said lively Lemminkainen,
“Now I swear by oaths the strongest,
Never in the first of summers,
Nor in any other summer,
Mix myself in mighty battles,
In the clashing of the sword-blades.
Wounds are still upon my shoulders,
In my breast deep wounds still rankle,
From my former battle-pleasures,
In the midst of all the tumult,
In the midst of mighty battles,
Where the heroes all contended.”

Then did Lemminkainen’s mother
Answer in the words which follow:
“Take the boat your father left you,
And betake yourself to hiding.
Traverse nine lakes in succession,
Half the tenth one must thou traverse,
To an island on its surface,
Where the cliffs arise from water.
There in former times your father
Hid, and kept himself in safety,
In the furious fights of summer,
In the hardest years of battle.
There you’ll find a pleasant dwelling,
And a charming place to linger.
Hide thyself a year, a second,
In the third year come thou homeward,
To your father’s well-known homestead,
To the dwelling of your parents.”

Runo XXIX.
Lemminkainen’s Adventures on the Island

Argument

Lemminkainen sails across the lakes in his boat and comes safely to the island (1-180). There he lives pleasantly among the girls and women till the return of the men from warfare, who conspire against him (181-290). Lemminkainen flies from the island, much to the grief both of the girls and himself (291-402). His boat is wrecked in a violent storm, but he escapes by swimming to land, makes a new boat, and arrives safely on the shores of his own country (403-452). He finds his old house burned, and the whole surroundings laid waste, when he begins to weep and lament, especially for the loss of his mother (453-514). His mother, however, is still alive, having taken refuge in a thick forest where Lemminkainen finds her to his great joy (515-546). She relates how the army of Pohjola came and burned down the house. Lemminkainen promises to build a finer house after he has revenged himself upon the people of Pohjola, and describes his pleasant life in the island of refuge (547-602).

Lemminkainen, youth so lively,
He the handsome Kaukomieli,
Took provisions in his satchel,
In his wallet summer-butter,
Butter for a year to last him,
For another, pork sufficient,
Then he travelled off to hide him,
Started in the greatest hurry,
And he said the words which follow:
“Now I go, and I’m escaping,
For the space of three whole summers,
And for five years in succession.
Be the land to snakes abandoned,
Let the lynxes snarl in greenwood,
In the fields the reindeer wander,
In the brakes the geese conceal them.

“Fare thee well, my dearest mother,
If the people come from Pohja,
From Pimentola the army,
And about my head they ask you,
Say that I have fled before them,
And have taken my departure,
And I have laid waste my clearing,
That which I had reaped so lately.”

Then he pushed his boat in water,
On the waves he launched his vessel,
From the rollers steel he launched it,
From the haven lined with copper.
On the mast the sails he hoisted,
And he spread the sails of linen,
At the stern himself he seated,
And prepared him for his journey,
Sitting by his birchwood rudder,
With the stern-oar deftly steering.

Then he spoke the words which follow,
And in words like these expressed him:
“Wind, inflate the sails above me,
Wind of spring drive on the vessel,
Drive with speed the wooden vessel,
Onward drive the boat of pinewood
Forward to the nameless island,
And the nameless promontory.”

So the wind the bark drove onward,
O’er the foaming lake ’twas driven,
O’er the bright expanse of water,
Speeding o’er the open water,
Rocking while two moons were changing,
Till a third was near its ending.

At the cape were maidens sitting,
There upon the blue lake’s margin
They were gazing, and were casting
Glances o’er the azure billows.
One was waiting for her brother,
And another for her father,
But the others all were waiting,
Waiting each one for a lover.

In the distance spied they Kauko,
Sooner still the boat of Kauko,
Like a little cloud in distance,
Just between the sky and water.

And the island-maids reflected,
Said the maidens of the island:
“What’s this strange thing in the water,
What this wonder on the billows?
If a boat of our relations,
Sailing vessel of our island,
Hasten then, and speed thee homeward,
To the harbour of the island,
That we hear the tidings quickly,
Hear the news from foreign countries,
If there’s peace among the shore-folks,
Or if war is waged among them.”

Still the wind the sail inflated,
And the billows drove the vessel.
Then the lively Lemminkainen
Guided to the isle the vessel,
To the island’s end he drove it,
Where it ends in jutting headland.

And he said on his arrival,
To the cape as he was coming,
“Is there room upon this island,
On the surface of the island,
Where the boat may land upon it,
And to dry land I may bring it?”

Said the girls upon the island,
And the island-maidens answered:
“There is room upon this island,
On the surface of the island,
Where the boat may land upon it,
And to dry land you may bring it.
There are harbours for the vessel,
On the beach sufficient rollers,
To receive a hundred vessels,
Though the boats should come by thousands.”

Then the lively Lemminkainen
On the land drew up his vessel,
On the wooden rollers laid it,
And he spoke the words which follow:
“Is there room upon this island,
On the surface of the island,
Where a little man may hide him,
And a weak man may take refuge
From the din of furious battle,
And the clash of steely sword-blades?”

Said the girls upon the island,
And the island-maidens answered:
“There is room upon this island,
On the surface of the island,
Where a little man may hide him,
And a weak man may conceal him.
Here are very many castles,
Stately castles to reside in,
Though there came a hundred heroes,
And a thousand men of valour.”

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
And he spoke the words which follow:
“Is there room upon this island,
On the surface of the island,
Where there stands a birch-tree forest,
And a stretch of other country,
Where I perhaps may make a clearing,
Work upon my goodly clearing?”

Said the girls upon the island,
And the island-maidens answered:
“There is not upon this island,
On the surface of the island,
Not the space your back could rest on,
Land not of a bushel’s measure,
Where you perhaps might make a clearing,
Work upon your goodly clearing.
All the land is now divided,
And the fields in plots are measured,
And allotted are the fallows,
Grassland managed by the commune.”

Said the lively Lemminkainen,
Asked the handsome Kaukomieli,
“Is there room upon this island,
On the surface of the island,
Space where I my songs may carol,
Space where I may sing my ballads?
Words within my mouth are melting,
And between my gums are sprouting.”

Said the girls upon the island,
And the island-maidens answered:
“There is room upon this island,
On the surface of the island,
Space where you may sing your ballads,
And intone your splendid verses,
While you sport amid the greenwood,
While you dance among the meadows.”

Then the lively Lemminkainen
Hastened to commence his singing.
In the court sang mountain-ashtrees,
In the farmyard oaks grew upward.
On the oaks were equal branches,
And on every branch an acorn,
Golden globes within the acorns,
And upon the globes were cuckoos.
When the cuckoos all were calling,
From their mouths was gold distilling,
From their beaks was copper flowing,
Likewise silver pouring onward
To the hills all golden-shining,
And among the silver mountains.

Once again sang Lemminkainen,
Once again he sang and chanted,
Gravel sang to pearls of beauty,
All the stones to gleaming lustre,
All the stones to glowing redness,
And the flowers to golden glory.

Then again sang Lemminkainen;
In the yard a well created,
O’er the well a golden cover,
And on this a golden bucket,
That the lads might drink the water,
And their sisters wash their faces.
Ponds he sang upon the meadows,
In the ponds blue ducks were floating,
Temples golden, heads of silver,
And their claws were all of copper.