Part 8
In the yard he found his mother, "O my mother who hast borne me, O that thou, my dearest mother, E'en as soon as thou hadst borne me, In the bath-room smoke hadst laid me, And the bath-house doors had bolted, 300 That amid the smoke I smothered, And when two nights old had perished, Smothered me among the blankets, With the curtain thou hadst choked me, Thrust the cradle in the fire, Pushed it in the burning embers.
"If the village folk had asked thee, 'Why is in the room no cradle? Wherefore have you locked the bath-house?' Then might this have been the answer: 310 'In the fire I burned the cradle, Where on hearth the fire is glowing, While I made the malt in bath-house, While the malt was fully sweetened.'"
Then his mother asked him quickly, Asked him thus, the aged woman: "O my son, what happened to thee, What the dreadful news thou bringest? Seems from Tuonela thou comest; As from Manala thou comest." 320
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Answered in the words which follow: "Horrors now must be reported, And most horrible misfortunes. I have wronged my very sister, And my mother's child dishonoured.
"First I went and paid the taxes, And I also paid the land-dues, And by chance there came a maiden, And I sported with the maiden, 330 And she was my very sister, And the child of mine own mother.
"Thereupon to death she cast her, Plunged herself into destruction, In the furious foaming cataract, And amid the raging whirlpool. But I cannot now determine Not decide and not imagine How myself to death should cast me, I the hapless one, should slay me, 340 In the mouths of wolves all howling, In the throats of bears all growling, In the whale's vast belly perish, Or between the teeth of lake-pike."
But his mother made him answer: "Do not go, my son, my dearest, To the mouths of wolves all howling, Nor to throats of bears all growling, Neither to the whale's vast belly, Neither to the teeth of lake-pike. 350 Large enough the Cape of Suomi, Wide enough are Savo's borders, For a man to hide from evil, And a criminal conceal him. Hide thee there for five years, six years, There for nine long years conceal thee, Till a time of peace has reached thee, And the years have calmed thine anguish."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Answered in the words which follow: 360 "Nay, I will not go in hiding, Fly not forth, a wicked outcast, To the mouth of Death I wander, To the gate of Kalma's courtyard, To the place of furious fighting, To the battle-field of heroes. Upright still is standing Unto, And the wicked man unfallen, Unavenged my father's sufferings, Unavenged my mother's tear-drops, 370 Counting not my bitter sufferings, Wrongs that I myself have suffered."
RUNO XXXVI.--THE DEATH OF KULLERVO
_Argument_
Kullervo prepares for war and leaves home joyfully, for no one but his mother is sorry that he is going to his death (1-154). He comes to Untamola, lays waste the whole district, and burns the homestead (155-250). On returning home he finds his home deserted, and no living thing about the place but an old black dog, with which he goes into the forest to shoot game for food (251-296). While traversing the forest he arrives at the place where he met his sister, and ends his remorse by killing himself with his own sword (297-360).
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, With the very bluest stockings, Now prepared himself for battle, And prepared himself for warfare. For an hour his sword he sharpened, Sharpened spear-points for another.
Then his mother spoke unto him, "Do not go, my son unhappy, Go not to this mighty battle, Go not where the swords are clashing! 10 He who goes for nought to battle, He who wilful seeks the combat, In the fight shall find his death-wound, And shall perish in the conflict, By the sword-blades shall he perish, Thus shall fall, and thus shall perish.
"If against a goat thou fightest, And wouldst meet in fight a he-goat, Then the goat will overcome thee, In the mud the he-goat cast thee, 20 That like dog thou home returnest, Like a frog returnest homeward."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Answered in the words which follow: "In the swamps I shall not sink me, Nor upon the heath will stumble, In the dwelling-place of ravens, In the fields where crows are croaking. If I perish in the battle, Sinking on the field of battle, 30 Noble 'tis to fall in battle, Fine 'mid clash of swords to perish, Exquisite the battle-fever, Quickly hence a youth it hurries, Takes him quickly forth from evil, There he falls no more to hunger."
Then his mother spoke and answered, "If you perish in the battle, Who shall cater for your father, And shall tend the old man daily?" 40
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Answered in the words that follow: "Let him perish on the dust-heap, Leave him in the yard to perish."
"Who shall cater for your mother, And shall tend the old dame daily?"
"Let her die upon a haycock, In the cowshed let her stifle."
"Who shall cater for thy brother, Tend him day by day in future?" 50
"Let him perish in the forest, Let him faint upon the meadow."
"Who shall cater for thy sister, Tend her day by day in future?"
"Let her fall in well, and perish, Let her fall into the wash-tub."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Just as he his home was leaving, Spoke these words unto his father: "Now farewell, O noble father! 60 Shall you perhaps be weeping sorely, If you hear that I have perished, And have vanished from the people, And have perished in the battle?"
Then his father gave him answer: "Not for thee shall I be weeping, If I hear that you have perished, For another son I'll rear me, And a better son will rear me, And a son by far more clever." 70
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Answered in the words which follow: "Nor for you shall I be weeping, If I hear that you have perished. I will make me such a father, Mouth of clay, and head of stonework, Eyes of cranberries from the marshes, And a beard of withered stubble, Legs of willow-twigs will make him, Flesh of rotten trees will make him." 80
Then he spoke unto his brother: "Now farewell, my dearest brother. Shall you weep for my destruction, If you hear that I have perished, And have vanished from the people, And have fallen in the battle?"
But his brother gave him answer, "Not for you shall I be weeping, If I hear that you have perished. I will find myself a brother, 90 Better brother far than thou art, And a brother twice as handsome."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Answered in the words which follow: "Nor for you shall I be weeping, If I hear that you have perished. I will make me such a brother, Head of stone, and mouth of sallow, Eyes of cranberries I will make him, Make him hair of withered stubble, 100 Legs of willow-twigs will make him, Flesh of rotten trees will make him."
Then he spoke unto his sister, "Now farewell, my dearest sister. Shall you weep for my destruction, If you hear that I have perished, And have vanished from the people, And have perished in the battle?"
But his sister gave him answer: "Not for you shall I be weeping, 110 If I hear that you have perished. I will find myself a brother, Better brother far than thou art, And a brother far more clever."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Answered in the words which follow: "Nor for you shall I be weeping, If I hear that you have perished. I will make me such a sister, Head of stone and mouth of sallow, 120 Eyes of cranberries I will make her, Make her hair of withered stubble, Ears of water-lily make her, And of maple make her body."
Then he said unto his mother, "O my mother, O my dearest, Thou the fair one who hast borne me, Thou the golden one who nursed me, Shalt thou weep for my destruction, Shouldst thou hear that I have perished, 130 And have vanished from the people, And have perished in the battle?"
Then his mother gave him answer, And she spoke the words which follow: "Not thou knowest a mother's feelings, Nor a mother's heart esteemest. I shall weep for thy destruction, If I hear that thou hast perished, And from out the people vanished, And have perished in the battle; 140 Weep until the house is flooded, Weep until the floor is swimming, Weep until the paths are hidden, And with tears the cowsheds weighted, Weep until the snows are slippery, Till the ground is bare and slippery, Lands unfrozen teem with verdure, And my tears flow through the greenness.
"If I cannot keep on weeping, And no strength is left for grieving, 150 Weeping in the people's presence, I will weep in bath-room hidden, Till the seats with tears are flowing, And the flooring all is flooded."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, With the very bluest stockings, Went with music forth to battle, Joyfully he sought the conflict, Playing tunes through plains and marshes, Shouting over all the heathland, 160 Crashing onwards through the meadows, Trampling down the fields of stubble.
And a messenger o'ertook him, In his ear these words he whispered: "At thy home has died thy father, And thy aged parent perished. Now return to gaze upon him, And arrange for his interment."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Made him answer on the instant: 170 "Is he dead, so let him perish. In the house there is a gelding, Which unto the grave can drag him, And can sink him down to Kalma."
Played he, as he passed the marshes, And he shouted in the clearings, And a messenger o'ertook him, In his ear these words he whispered: "At thy home has died thy brother, And thy parent's child has perished. 180 Now return to gaze upon him, And arrange for his interment."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Made him answer on the instant: "Is he dead, so let him perish. In the house there is a stallion, Which unto the grave can drag him, And can sink him down to Kalma."
Through the marshes passed he, playing, Blew his horn amidst the fir-woods, 190 And a messenger o'ertook him, In his ear these words he whispered: "At thy home has died thy sister, And thy parent's child has perished. Now return to gaze upon her, And arrange for her interment."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Made him answer on the instant: "Is she dead, so let her perish. In the house a mare is waiting, 200 Which unto the grave can drag her, And can sink her down to Kalma."
Through the meadows marched he shouting, In the grassfields he was shouting, And a messenger o'ertook him, In his ear these words he whispered: "Now has died thy tender mother, And thy darling mother perished. Now return to gaze upon her, And arrange for her interment." 210
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Answered in the words which follow: "Woe to me, a youth unhappy, For my mother now has perished, Wearied as she made the curtains, And the counterpane embroidered. With her long spool she was working, As she turned around her spindle. I was not at her departure, Near her when her soul was parting. 220 Perhaps the cold was great and killed her, Or perchance was bread too scanty.
"In the house with care, O wash her, With the Saxon soap, the finest, Wind her then in silken wrappings, Wrap her in the finest linen, Thus unto the grave convey her, Sink her gently down to Kalma, Then upraise the songs of mourning, Let resound the songs of mourning, 230 For not yet can I turn homeward, Untamo is still unfallen, Yet unfelled the man of evil, Undestroyed is yet the villain."
Forth he went to battle, playing, Went to Untola rejoicing, And he said the words which follow: "Ukko, thou, of Gods the highest, Give me now a sword befitting, Give me now a sword most splendid, 240 Which were worth an army to me, Though a hundred came against me."
Then the sword he asked was granted, And a sword of all most splendid, And he slaughtered all the people, Untamo's whole tribe he slaughtered, Burned the houses all to ashes, And with flame completely burned them, Leaving nothing but the hearthstones, Nought but in each yard the rowan. 250
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Then to his own home retired, To his father's former dwelling, To the home-fields of his parents. Empty did he find the homestead, Desolate the open places; No one forward came to greet him, No one came his hand to offer.
To the hearth he stretched his hand out, On the hearth the coals were frozen, 260 And he knew on his arrival, That his mother was not living.
To the stove he stretched his hand out, At the stove the stones were frozen, And he knew on his arrival, That his father was not living.
On the floor his eyes then casting, All he noticed in confusion, And he knew on his arrival, That his sister was not living. 270
To the mooring-place he hastened, But no boats were at their moorings, And he knew on his arrival, That his brother was not living.
Thereupon he broke out weeping, And he wept one day, a second, And he spoke the words which follow: "O my mother, O my dearest, Hast thou left me nought behind thee, When thou livedst in this country? 280
"But thou hearest not, O mother, Even though my eyes are sobbing, And my temples are lamenting, And my head is all complaining."
In the grave his mother wakened, And beneath the mould made answer: "Still there lives the black dog, Musti, Go with him into the forest, At thy side let him attend thee, Take him to the wooded country, 290 Where the forest rises thickest, Where reside the forest-maidens, Where the Blue Maids have their dwelling, And the birds frequent the pine-trees, There to seek for their assistance, And to seek to win their favour."
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, At his side the black dog taking, Tracked his path through trees of forest, Where the forest rose the thickest. 300 But a short way had he wandered, But a little way walked onward, When he reached the stretch of forest, Recognized the spot before him, Where he had seduced the maiden, And his mother's child dishonoured.
There the tender grass was weeping, And the lovely spot lamenting, And the young grass was deploring, And the flowers of heath were grieving, 310 For the ruin of the maiden, For the mother's child's destruction. Neither was the young grass sprouting, Nor the flowers of heath expanding, Nor the spot had covered over, Where the evil thing had happened, Where he had seduced the maiden, And his mother's child dishonoured.
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, Grasped the sharpened sword he carried, 320 Looked upon the sword and turned it, And he questioned it and asked it, And he asked the sword's opinion, If it was disposed to slay him, To devour his guilty body, And his evil blood to swallow.
Understood the sword his meaning, Understood the hero's question, And it answered him as follows: "Wherefore at thy heart's desire 330 Should I not thy flesh devour, And drink up thy blood so evil? I who guiltless flesh have eaten, Drank the blood of those who sinned not?"
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring, With the very bluest stockings, On the ground the haft set firmly, On the heath the hilt pressed tightly, Turned the point against his bosom, And upon the point he threw him, 340 Thus he found the death he sought for, Cast himself into destruction.
Even so the young man perished, Thus died Kullervo the hero, Thus the hero's life was ended, Perished thus the hapless hero.
Then the aged Väinämöinen, When he heard that he had perished, And that Kullervo had fallen, Spoke his mind in words that follow: 350 "Never, people, in the future, Rear a child in crooked fashion, Rocking them in stupid fashion, Soothing them to sleep like strangers. Children reared in crooked fashion, Boys thus rocked in stupid fashion, Grow not up with understanding, Nor attain to man's discretion, Though they live till they are aged, And in body well-developed." 360
RUNO XXXVII.--THE GOLD AND SILVER BRIDE
_Argument_
Ilmarinen weeps long for his dead wife and then forges himself a wife of gold and silver with great labour and trouble (1-162). At night he rests by the golden bride, but finds in the morning that the side which he has turned towards her is quite cold (163-196). He offers his golden bride to Väinämöinen, who declines to receive her, and advises him to forge more useful things, or to send her to other countries where people wish for gold (197-250).
Afterwards smith Ilmarinen Mourned his wife throughout the evenings, And through sleepless nights was weeping, All the days bewailed her fasting, And he mourned her all the mornings, In the morning hours lamented, Since the time his young wife perished, Death the fair one had o'ertaken. In his hand he swung no longer, Copper handle of his hammer, 10 Nor his hammer's clang resounded, While a month its course was running.
Said the smith, said Ilmarinen, "Hapless youth, I know no longer, How to pass my sad existence, For at night I sit and sleep not, Always in the night comes sorrow, And my strength grows weak from trouble.
"All my evenings now are weary, Sorrowful are all my mornings, 20 And the nights indeed are dismal, Worst of all when I am waking. Grieve I not because 'tis evening, Sorrow not because 'tis morning, Trouble not for other seasons; But I sorrow for my fair one, And I sorrow for my dear one, Grieve for her, the dark-browed beauty.
"Sometimes in these times so dismal, Often in my time of trouble, 30 Often in my dreams at midnight, Has my hand felt out at nothing, And my hand seized only trouble, As it strayed about in strangeness."
Thus the smith awhile lived wifeless, And without his wife grew older, Wept for two months and for three months, But upon the fourth month after, Gold from out the lake he gathered, Gathered silver from the billows, 40 And a pile of wood collected, Nothing short of thirty sledgeloads, Then he burned the wood to charcoal, Took the charcoal to the smithy.
Of the gold he took a portion, And he chose him out some silver, Even like a ewe of autumn, Even like a hare of winter, And the gold to redness heated, Cast the silver in the furnace, 50 Set his slaves to work the bellows, And his labourers pressed the bellows.
Toiled the slaves, and worked the bellows, And the labourers pressed the bellows, With their ungloved hands they pressed them, Worked them with their naked shoulders, While himself, smith Ilmarinen, Carefully the fire was tending, As he strove a bride to fashion Out of gold and out of silver. 60
Badly worked the slaves the bellows, And the labourers did not press them, And on this smith Ilmarinen Went himself to work the bellows. Once and twice he worked the bellows, For a third time worked the bellows, Then looked down into the furnace, Looking closely to the bellows, What rose up from out the furnace, What from out the flames ascended. 70
Then a ewe rose from the furnace, And it rose from out the bellows. One hair gold, another copper, And the third was all of silver; Others might therein feel pleasure, Ilmarinen felt no pleasure.
Said the smith, said Ilmarinen, "Such as you a wolf may wish for, But I want a golden consort, One of silver half constructed." 80
Thereupon smith Ilmarinen Thrust the ewe into the furnace, Gold unto the mass he added, And he added silver to it, Set his slaves to work the bellows, And his labourers pressed the bellows.
Toiled the slaves and worked the bellows, And the labourers pressed the bellows, With their ungloved hands they pressed them Worked them with their naked shoulders, 90 While himself, smith Ilmarinen, Carefully the fire was tending, As he strove a bride to fashion Out of gold and out of silver.
Badly worked the slaves the bellows, And the labourers did not press them, And on this smith Ilmarinen Went himself to work the bellows. Once and twice he worked the bellows, For the third time worked the bellows, 100 Then looked down into the furnace, Looking closely to the bellows, What rose up from out the furnace, What from out the flames ascended.
Then a foal rose from the furnace, And it rose from out the bellows, Mane of gold, and head of silver, And his hoofs were all of copper; But though others it delighted, Ilmarinen felt no pleasure. 110
Said the smith, said Ilmarinen, "Such as you a wolf may wish for, But I want a golden consort, One of silver half constructed."
Thereupon smith Ilmarinen Thrust the foal into the furnace, Gold unto the mass he added, And he added silver to it, Set his slaves to work the bellows, And his labourers pressed the bellows. 120
Toiled the slaves and worked the bellows, And the labourers pressed the bellows, With their ungloved hands they pressed them, Worked them with their naked shoulders, While himself, smith Ilmarinen, Carefully the fire was tending, As he strove a bride to fashion, Out of gold and out of silver.
Badly worked the slaves the bellows, And the labourers did not press them, 130 And on this, smith Ilmarinen Went himself to work the bellows, Once and twice he worked the bellows, For a third time worked the bellows, Then looked down into the furnace, Looking closely to the bellows, What rose up from out the furnace, What from out the flames ascended.
Then a maid rose from the furnace, Golden-locked, from out the bellows, 140 Head of silver, hair all golden, And her figure all was lovely. Others might have shuddered at her, Ilmarinen was not frightened.
Thereupon smith Ilmarinen Set to work to shape the image, Worked at night without cessation, And by day he worked unresting. Feet he fashioned for the maiden, Fashioned feet; and hands he made her, 150 But the feet would not support her, Neither would the arms embrace him.
Ears he fashioned for the maiden, But the ears served not for hearing, And a dainty mouth he made her, Tender mouth and shining eyeballs, But the mouth served not for speaking, And the eyes served not for smiling.
Said the smith, said Ilmarinen "She would be a pretty maiden, 160 If she had the art of speaking, And had sense, and spoke discreetly."
After this he laid the maiden On the softest of the blankets, Smoothed for her the softest pillows, On the silken bed he laid her.
After this smith Ilmarinen, Quickly warmed the steaming bath-room, Took the soap into the bath-room, And provided twigs for bath-whisks, 170 And of water took three tubs full, That the little finch should wash her, And the little goldfinch cleanse her, Cleanse her beauty from the ashes.
When the smith had also bathed him, Washed him to his satisfaction, At the maiden's side he stretched him, On the softest of the blankets, 'Neath the steel-supported hangings, 'Neath the over-arching iron. 180