Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland Part 33

Wainamoinen, old and trusty, Laid his hand upon the rudder, Steered his vessel o'er the waters, Through the foam and angry billows To Pohyola's place of landing, To the cylinders of copper, Where the war-s.h.i.+ps lie at anchor.

When they had arrived at Pohya, When their journey they had ended, On the land they rolled their vessel, On the copper-banded rollers, Straightway journeyed to the village, Hastened to the halls and hamlets Of the dismal Sariola.

Louhi, hostess of the Northland, Thus addressed the stranger-heroes: Magic heroes of Wainola, What the tidings ye are bringing To the people of my village?"

Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel.

Gave this answer to the hostess: "All the hosts of Kalevala Are inquiring for the Sampo, Asking for the lid in colors; Hither have these heroes journeyed To divide the priceless treasure.

Thus the hostess spake in answer: "No one would divide a partridge, Nor a squirrel, with three heroes; Wonderful the magic Sampo, Plenty does it bring to Northland; And the colored lid re-echoes From the copper-bearing mountains, From the stone-berg of Pohyola, To the joy of its possessors."

Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Thus addressed the ancient Louhi: "If thou wilt not share the Sampo, Give to us an equal portion, We will take it to Wainola, With its lid of many colors, Take by force the hope of Pohya."

Thereupon the Northland hostess Angry grew and sighed for vengeance; Called her people into council, Called the hosts of Sariola, Heroes with their trusted broadswords, To destroy old Wainamoinen With his people of the Northland.

Wainamoinen, wise and ancient, Hastened to his harp of fish-bone, And began his magic playing; All of Pohya stopped and listened, Every warrior was silenced By the notes of the magician; Peaceful-minded grew the soldiers, All the maidens danced with pleasure, While the heroes fell to weeping, And the young men looked in wonder.

Wainamoinen plays unceasing, Plays the maidens into slumber, Plays to sleep the young and aged, All of Northland sleeps and listens.

Wise and wondrous Wainamoinen, The eternal bard and singer, Searches in his pouch of leather, Draws therefrom his slumber-arrows, Locks the eyelids of the sleepers, Of the heroes of Pohyola, Sings and charms to deeper slumber All the warriors of the Northland.

Then the heroes of Wainola Hasten to obtain the Sampo, To procure the lid in colors From the copper-bearing mountains.

From behind nine locks of copper, In the stone-berg of Pohyola.

Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Then began his wondrous singing, Sang in gentle tones of magic, At the entrance to the mountain, At the border of the stronghold; Trembled all the rocky portals, And the iron-banded pillars Fell and crumbled at his singing.

Ilmarinen, magic blacksmith, Well anointed all the hinges, All the bars and locks anointed, And the bolts flew back by magic, All the gates unlocked in silence, Opened for the great magician.

Spake the minstrel Wainamoinen: "O thou daring Lemminkainen, Friend of mine in times of trouble, Enter thou within the mountain, Bring away the wondrous Sampo, Bring away the lid in colors!"

Quick the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Ever ready for a venture, Hastens to the mountain-caverns, There to find the famous Sampo, There to get the lid in colors; Strides along with conscious footsteps, Thus himself he vainly praises: "Great am I and full of glory, Wonder-hero, son of Ukko, I will bring away the Sampo, Turn about the lid in colors, Turn it on its magic hinges!"

Lemminkainen finds the wonder, Finds the Sampo in the mountain, Labors long with strength heroic, Tugs with might and main to turn it; Motionless remains the treasure, Deeper sinks the lid in colors, For the roots have grown about it, Grown nine fathoms deep in sand-earth.

Lived a mighty ox in Northland, Powerful in bone and sinew, Beautiful in form and color, Horns the length of seven fathoms, Mouth and eyes of wondrous beauty.

Lemminkainen, reckless hero, Harnesses the ox in pasture, Takes the master-plow of Pohya, Plows the roots about the Sampo, Plows around the lid in colors, And the sacred Sampo loosens, Falls the colored lid in silence.

Straightway ancient Wainamoinen Brings the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Brings the daring Lemminkainen, Lastly brings the magic Sampo, From the stone-berg of Pohyola, From the copper-bearing mountain, Hides it in his waiting vessel, In the war-s.h.i.+p of Wainola.

Wainamoinen called his people, Called his crew of men and maidens, Called together all his heroes, Rolled his vessel to the water, Into billowy deeps and dangers.

Spake the blacksmith, Ilmarinen: "Whither shall we take the Sampo, Whither take the lid in colors, From the stone-berg of Pohyola, From this evil spot of Northland?"

Wainamoinen, wise and faithful, Gave this answer to the question: "Thither shall we take the Sampo, Thither take the lid in colors, To the fog-point on the waters, To the island forest-covered; There the treasure may be hidden, May remain in peace for ages, Free from trouble, free from danger, Where the sword will not molest it."

Then the minstrel, Wainamoinen, Joyful, left the Pohya borders, Homeward sailed, and happy-hearted, Spake these measures on departing: "Turn, O man-of-war, from Pohya, Turn thy back upon the strangers, Turn thou to my distant country!

Rock, O winds, my magic vessel, Homeward drive my s.h.i.+p, O billows, Lend the rowers your a.s.sistance, Give the oarsmen easy labor, On this vast expanse of waters!

Give me of thine oars, O Ahto, Lend thine aid, O King of sea-waves, Guide as with thy helm in safety, Lay thy hand upon the rudder, And direct our war-s.h.i.+p homeward; Let the hooks of metal rattle O'er the surging of the billows, On the white-capped waves' commotion."

Then the master, Wainamoinen, Guided home his willing vessel; And the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, With the lively Lemminkainen, Led the mighty host of rowers, And the war-s.h.i.+p glided homeward O'er the sea's unruffled surface, O'er the mighty waste of waters.

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: "Once before I rode these billows, There were viands for the heroes, There was singing for the maidens; But to-day I hear no singing, Hear no songs upon the vessel, Hear no music on the waters."

Wainamoinen, wise and ancient, Answered thus wild Lemminkainen: "Let none sing upon the blue-sea, On the waters, no rejoicing; Singing would prolong our journey, Songs disturb the host of rowers; Soon will die the silver sunlight, Darkness soon will overtake us, On this evil waste of waters, On this blue-sea, smooth and level."

These the words of Lemminkainen: "Time will fly on equal pinions Whether we have songs or silence; Soon will disappear the daylight, And the night as quickly follow, Whether we be sad or joyous."

Wainamoinen, the magician, O'er the blue backs of the billows, Steered one day, and then a second, Steered the third from morn till even, When the wizard, Lemminkainen, Once again addressed the master: "Why wilt thou, O famous minstrel, Sing no longer for thy people, Since the Sampo thou hast captured, Captured too the lid in colors?"

These the words of Wainamoinen: "'Tis not well to sing too early!

Time enough for songs of joyance When we see our home-land mansions, When our journeyings have ended!"

Spake the reckless Lemminkainen: "At the helm, if I were sitting, I would sing at morn and evening, Though my voice has little sweetness; Since thy songs are not forthcoming Listen to my wondrous singing!"

Thereupon wild Lemminkainen, Handsome hero, Kaukomieli, Raised his voice above the waters, O'er the sea his song resounded; But his measures were discordant, And his notes were harsh and frightful.

Sang the wizard, Lemminkainen, Screeched the reckless Kaukomieli, Till the mighty war-s.h.i.+p trembled; Far and wide was heard his singing, Heard his songs upon the waters, Heard within the seventh village, Heard beyond the seven oceans.

Sat a crane within the rushes, On a hillock clothed in verdure, And the crane his toes was counting; Suddenly he heard the singing Of the wizard, Lemminkainen; And the bird was justly frightened At the songs of the magician.

Then with horrid voice, and screeching, Flew the crane across the broad-sea To the lakes of Sariola, O'er Pohyola's hills and hamlets, Screeching, screaming, over Northland, Till the people of the darkness Were awakened from their slumbers.

Louhi hastens to her hurdles, Hastens to her droves of cattle, Hastens also to her garners, Counts her herds, inspects her store-house; Undisturbed she finds her treasures.

Quick she journeys to the entrance To the copper-bearing mountain, Speaks these words as she approaches: "Woe is me, my life hard-fated, Woe to Louhi, broken-hearted!

Here the tracks of the destroyers, All my locks and bolts are broken By the hands of cruel strangers!

Broken are my iron hinges, Open stand the mountain-portals Leading to the Northland-treasure.

Has Pohyola lost her Sampo?"

Then she hastened to the chambers Where the Sampo had been grinding; But she found the chambers empty, Lid and Sampo gone to others, From the stone-berg of Pohyola, From behind nine locks of copper, In the copper-bearing mountain.

Louhi, hostess of the Northland, Angry grew and cried for vengeance; As she found her fame departing, Found her-strength fast disappearing, Thus addressed the sea-fog virgin: "Daughter of the morning-vapors, Sift thy fogs from distant cloud-land, Sift the thick air from the heavens, Sift thy vapors from the ether, On the blue-back of the broad-sea, On the far extending waters, That the ancient Wainamoinen, Friend of ocean-wave and billow, May not baffle his pursuers!

"Should this prayer prove unavailing, Iku-Turso, son of Old-age, Raise thy head above the billows, And destroy Wainola's heroes, Sink them to thy deep sea-castles, There devour them at thy pleasure; Bring thou back the golden Sampo To the people of Pohyola!

"Should these words be ineffective, Ukko, mightiest of rulers, Golden king beyond the welkin, Sitting on a throne of silver, Fill thy skies with heavy storm-clouds, Call thy fleetest winds about thee, Send them o'er the seven broad-seas, There to find the fleeing vessel, That the ancient Wainamoinen May not baffle his pursuers!"

Quick the virgin of the vapors Breathed a fog upon the waters, Made it settle on the war-s.h.i.+p Of the heroes of the Northland, Held the minstrel, Wainamoinen, Anch.o.r.ed in the fog and darkness; Bound him one day, then a second, Then a third till dawn of morning, In the middle of the blue-sea, Whence he could not flee in safety From the wrath of his pursuers.

When the third night had departed, Resting in the sea, and helpless, Wainamoinen spake as follows, "Not a man of strength and courage, Not the weakest of the heroes, Who upon the sea will suffer, Sink and perish in the vapors, Perish in the fog and darkness!"

With his sword he smote the billows, From his magic blade flowed honey; Quick the vapor breaks, and rises, Leaves the waters clear for rowing; Far extend the sky and waters, Large the ring of the horizon, And the troubled sea enlarges.

Time had journeyed little distance, Scarce a moment had pa.s.sed over, When they heard a mighty roaring, Heard a roaring and a rus.h.i.+ng Near the border of the vessel, Where the foam was shooting skyward O'er the boat of Wainamoinen.

Straightway youthful Ilmarinen Sank in gravest apprehension, From his cheeks the blood departed; Pulled his cap down o'er his forehead, Shook and trembled with emotion.

Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Casts his eyes upon the waters Near the broad rim of his war-s.h.i.+p; There perceives an ocean-wonder With his head above the sea-foam.

Wainamoinen, brave and mighty, Seizes quick the water-monster, Lifts him by his ears and questions: "Iku-Turso, son of Old-age, Why art rising from the blue-sea?

Wherefore dost thou leave thy castle, Show thyself to mighty heroes, To the heroes of Wainola?"

Iku-Turso, son of Old-age, Ocean monster, manifested Neither pleasure, nor displeasure, Was not in the least affrighted, Did not give the hero answer.

Whereupon the ancient minstrel, Asked the second time the monster, Urgently inquired a third time: "Iku-Turso, son of Old-age, Why art rising from the waters, Wherefore dost thou leave the blue-sea?

Iku-Turso gave this answer: For this cause I left my castle Underneath the rolling billows: Came I here with the intention To destroy the Kalew-heroes, And return the magic Sampo To the people of Pohyola.

If thou wilt restore my freedom, Spare my life, from pain and sorrow, I will quick retrace my journey, Nevermore to show my visage To the people of Wainola, Never while the moonlight glimmers On the hills of Kalevala!"

Then the singer, Wainamoinen, Freed the monster, Iku-Turso, Sent him to his deep sea-castles, Spake these words to him departing: "Iku-Turso, son of Old-age, Nevermore arise from ocean, Nevermore let Northland-heroes See thy face above the waters I Nevermore has Iku-Turso Risen to the ocean-level; Never since have Northland sailors Seen the head of this sea-monster.

Wainamoinen, old and truthful, Onward rowed his goodly vessel, Journeyed but a little distance, Scarce a moment had pa.s.sed over, When the King of all creators, Mighty Ukko of the heavens, Made the winds blow full of power, Made the storms arise in fury, Made them rage upon the waters.

From the west the winds came roaring, From the north-east came in anger, Winds came howling from the south-west, Came the winds from all directions, In their fury, rolling, roaring, Tearing branches from the lindens, Hurling needles from the pine-trees, Blowing flowers from the heather, Gra.s.ses blowing from the meadow, Tearing up the very bottom Of the deep and boundless blue-sea.

Roared the winds and lashed the waters Till the waves were white with fury; Tossed the war-s.h.i.+p high in ether, Tossed away the harp of fish-bone, Magic harp of Wainamoinen, To the joy of King Wellamo, To the pleasure of his people, To the happiness of Ahto, Ahto, rising from his caverns, On the floods beheld his people Carry off the harp of magic To their home below the billows.

Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Heavy-hearted, spake these measures: "I have lost what I created, I have lost the harp of joyance; Now my strength has gone to others, All my pleasure too departed, All my hope and comfort vanished!

Nevermore the harp of fish-bone Will enchant the hosts of Suomi!"

Then the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Sorrow-laden, spake as follows: "Woe is me, my life hard-fated!

Would that I had never journeyed On these waters filled with dangers, On the rolling waste before me, In this war-s.h.i.+p false and feeble.

Winds and storms have I encountered, Wretched days of toil and trouble, I have witnessed in the Northland; Never have I met such dangers On the land, nor on the ocean, Never in my hero life-time!"

Then the ancient Wainamoinen Spake and these the words he uttered: "Weep no more, my goodly comrades, In my bark let no one murmur; Weeping cannot mend disaster, Tears can never still misfortune, Mourning cannot save from evil.

"Sea, command thy warring forces, Bid thy children cease their fury!

Ahto, still thy surging billows!

Sink, Wellamo, to thy slumber, That our boat may move in safety.

Rise, ye storm-winds, to your kingdoms, Lift your heads above the waters, To the regions of your kindred, To your people and dominions; Cut the trees within the forest, Bend the lindens of the valley, Let our vessel sail in safety!"

Then the reckless Lemminkainen, Handsome wizard, Kaukomieli, Spake these words in supplication: "Come, O eagle, Turyalander, Bring three feathers from thy pinions, Three, O raven, three, O eagle, To protect this bark from evil!"

All the heroes of Wainola Call their forces to the rescue, And repair the sinking vessel.

By the aid of master-magic, Wainamoinen saved his war-s.h.i.+p, Saved his people from destruction, Well repaired his s.h.i.+p to battle With the roughest seas of Northland; Steers his mighty boat in safety Through the perils of the whirlpool, Through the watery deeps and dangers.

RUNE XLIII.

THE SAMPO LOST IN THE SEA.

Louhi, hostess of Pohyola, Called her many tribes together, Gave the archers bows and arrows, Gave her brave men spears and broadswords; Fitted out her mightiest war-s.h.i.+p, In the vessel placed her army, With their swords a hundred heroes, With their bows a thousand archers; Quick erected masts and sail-yards, On the masts her sails of linen Hanging like the clouds of heaven, Like the white-clouds in the ether, Sailed across the seas of Pohya, To re-take the wondrous Sampo From the heroes of Wainola.

Wainamoinen, old and faithful, Sailed across the deep, blue waters, Spake these words to Lemminkainen: "O thou daring son of Lempo, Best of all my friends and heroes, Mount the highest of the topmasts, Look before you into ether, Look behind you at the heavens, Well examine the horizon, Whether clear or filled with trouble."

Climbed the daring Lemminkainen, Ever ready for a venture, To the highest of the mastheads; Looked he eastward, also westward, Looked he northward, also southward, Then addressed wise Wainamoinen.

"Clear the sky appears before me, But behind a dark horizon; In the north a cloud is rising, And a longer cloud at north-west."

Wainamoinen thus made answer: Art thou speaking truth or fiction?

I am fearful that the war-s.h.i.+ps Of Pohyola are pursuing; Look again with keener vision."

Thereupon wild Lemminkainen Looked again and spake as follows: "In the distance seems a forest, In the south appears an island, Aspen-groves with falcons laden, Alders laden with the wood-grouse."

Spake the ancient Wainamoinen: "Surely thou art speaking falsehood; 'Tis no forest in the distance, Neither aspen, birch, nor alders, Laden with the grouse, or falcon; I am fearful that Pohyola Follows with her magic armies; Look again with keener vision."

Then the daring Lemminkainen Looked the third time from the topmast, Spake and these the words be uttered: "From the north a boat pursues us, Driven by a hundred rowers, Carrying a thousand heroes!"

Knew at last old Wainamoinen, Knew the truth of his inquiry, Thus addressed his fleeing people: "Row, O blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Row, O mighty Lemminkainen, Row, all ye my n.o.ble oarsmen, That our boat may skim the waters, May escape from our pursuers!"

Rowed the blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Rowed the mighty Lemminkainen, With them rowed the other heroes; Heavily groaned the helm of birch-wood, Loudly rattled all the row-locks; All the vessel shook and trembled, Like a cataract it thundered As it plowed the waste of waters, Tossing sea-foam to the heavens.

Strongly rowed Wainola's forces, Strongly were their arms united; But the distance did not widen Twixt the boat and their pursuers.