Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland — Complete. Anonymous

from thy killing torment?"

       Answered youthful Youkahainen:

       "Have at home two magic cross-bows,

       Pair of bows of wondrous power,

       One so light a child can bend it,

       Only strength can bend the other,

       Take of these the one that pleases."

       Then the ancient Wainamoinen:

       "Do not wish thy magic cross-bows,

       Have a few of such already,

       Thine to me are worse than useless

       I have bows in great abundance,

       Bows on every nail and rafter,

       Bows that laugh at all the hunters,

       Bows that go themselves a-hunting."

       Then the ancient Wainamoinen

       Sang alas! poor Youkahainen

       Deeper into mud and water,

       Deeper in the slough of torment.

       Youkahainen thus made answer:

       "Have at home two magic shallops,

       Beautiful the boats and wondrous;

       One rides light upon the ocean,

       One is made for heavy burdens;

       Take of these the one that pleases."

       Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:

       "Do not wish thy magic shallops,

       Have enough of such already;

       All my bays are full of shallops,

       All my shores are lined with shallops,

       Some before the winds are sailors,

       Some were built to sail against them."

       Still the Wainola bard and minstrel

       Sings again poor Youkahainen

       Deeper, deeper into torment,

       Into quicksand to his girdle,

       Till the Lapland bard in anguish

       Speaks again to Wainamoinen:

       "Have at home two magic stallions,

       One a racer, fleet as lightning,

       One was born for heavy burdens;

       Take of these the one that pleases."

       Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:

       "Neither do I wish thy stallions,

       Do not need thy hawk-limbed stallions,

       Have enough of these already;

       Magic stallions swarm my stables,

       Eating corn at every manger,

       Broad of back to hold the water,

       Water on each croup in lakelets."

       Still the bard of Kalevala

       Sings the hapless Lapland minstrel

       Deeper, deeper into torment,

       To his shoulders into water.

       Spake again young Youkahainen:

       "O thou ancient Wainamoinen,

       Thou the only true magician,

       Cease I pray thee thine enchantment,

       Only turn away thy magic,

       I will give thee gold abundant,

       Countless stores of shining silver;

       From the wars my father brought it,

       Brought it from the hard-fought battles."

       Spake the wise, old Wainamoinen:

       "For thy gold I have no longing,

       Neither do I wish thy silver,

       Have enough of each already;

       Gold abundant fills my chambers,

       On each nail hang bags of silver,

       Gold that glitters in the sunshine,

       Silver shining in the moonlight."

       Sank the braggart, Youkahainen,

       Deeper in his slough of torment,

       To his chin in mud and water,

       Ever praying, thus beseeching:

       "O thou ancient Wainamoinen,

       Greatest of the old magicians,

       Lift me from this pit of horror,

       From this prison-house of torture;

       I will give thee all my corn-fields,

       Give thee all my corn in garners,

       Thus my hapless life to ransom,

       Thus to gain eternal freedom."

       Wainamoinen thus made answer:

       "Take thy corn to other markets,

       Give thy garners to the needy;

       I have corn in great abundance,

       Fields have I in every quarter,

       Corn in all my fields is growing;

       One's own fields are always richer,

       One's own grain is much the sweeter."

       Lapland's young and reckless minstrel,

       Sorrow-laden, thus enchanted,

       Deeper sinks in mud and water,

       Fear-enchained and full of anguish,

       In the mire, his beard bedrabbled,

       Mouth once boastful filled with sea-weed,

       In the grass his teeth entangled,

       Youkahainen thus beseeches:

       "O thou ancient Wainamoinen,

       Wisest of the wisdom-singers,

       Cease at last thine incantations,

       Only turn away thy magic,

       And my former life restore me,

       Lift me from this stifling torment,

       Free mine eyes from sand and water,

       I will give thee sister, Aino,

       Fairest daughter of my mother,

       Bride of thine to be forever,

       Bride of thine to do thy pleasure,

       Sweep the rooms within thy cottage,

       Keep thy dwelling-place in order,

       Rinse for thee the golden platters,

       Spread thy couch with finest linens,

       For thy bed, weave golden covers,

       Bake for thee the honey-biscuit."

       Wainamoinen, old and truthful,

       Finds at last the wished-for ransom,

       Lapland's young and fairest daughter,

       Sister dear of Youkahainen;

       Happy he, that he has won him,

       In his age a beauteous maiden,

       Bride of his to be forever,

       Pride and joy of Kalevala.

       Now the happy Wainamoinen,

       Sits upon the rock of gladness,

       Joyful on the rock of music,

       Sings a little, sings and ceases,

       Sings again, and sings a third time,

       Thus to break the spell of magic,

       Thus to lessen the enchantment,

       Thus the potent charm to banish.

       As the magic