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Read Ebook: Kalevala The Land of the Heroes Volume One by L Nnrot Elias Compiler Kirby W F William Forsell Translator
Font size: Background color: Text color: Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev PageEbook has 1159 lines and 128176 words, and 24 pages"I am not a water-salmon, Not a perch from deepest water, But a young and lovely maiden, Youthful Joukahainen's sister, Whom thou all thy life hast longed for, Whom thou hast so long desired. "O thou pitiful old creature, V?in?m?inen, void of wisdom, 130 Thou hadst not the wit to hold me, Vellamo's young water-maiden, Me, the darling child of Ahto!" Said the aged V?in?m?inen, Head bowed down, and deeply grieving, "Sister thou of Joukahainen, Once again return, I pray thee." But she never more came near him, Ne'er again throughout his lifetime; For she turned away, and, diving, 140 Vanished from the water's surface Down among the rocks so varied, In a liver-coloured crevice. V?in?m?inen, old and steadfast, Pondered deeply, and reflected, What to do, and what was needful Quick he wove a net all silken, And he drew it straight and crossways, Through the reach, and then across it, Drew it through the quiet waters, 150 Through the depths beloved by salmons And through V?in?l?'s deep waters. And by Kalevala's sharp headlands, Through the deep, dark watery caverns, And the wide expanse of water, And through Joukola's great rivers, And across the bays of Lapland. Other fish he caught in plenty, All the fishes of the waters, Only not the fish he sought for, 160 Which he kept in mind for ever, Never Vellamo's fair maiden, Not the dearest child of Ahto. Then the aged V?in?m?inen, Bowed his head, lamenting deeply, With his cap adjusted sideways, And he spoke the words which follow: "O how grievous is my folly, Weak am I in manly wisdom, Once indeed was understanding, 170 Insight too conferred upon me, And my heart was great within me; Such in former times my portion. But in days that now are passing. In the evil days upon me, Now my strength with age is failing, All my understanding weakens And my insight has departed, All my judgment is perverted. "She for whom long years I waited, 180 Whom for half my life I longed for, Vellamo's fair water-maiden, Youngest daughter of the surges. Who should be my friend for ever, And my wife throughout my lifetime, Came and seized the bait I offered, In my boat sprang unresisting, But I knew not how to hold her, To my home I could not take her, But she plunged amid the waters, 190 Diving to the depths profoundest." Then he wandered on a little, And he walked, in sadness sighing, To his home direct returning, And he spoke the words which follow: "Once indeed the birds were singing, And my joyous cuckoo hailed me, Both at morning and at evening, Likewise, too, in midday hours. What has stilled their lively music, 200 And has hushed their charming voices? Care has stilled their lively music, Sorrow checked their cheerful voices, Therefore do they sing no longer, Neither at the sun's declining, To rejoice me in the evening, Nor to cheer me in the morning. "Now no more can I consider How to shape my course of action, How upon the earth to sojourn, 210 How throughout the world to travel. Would my mother now were living, And my aged mother waking! She would surely tell me truly How to best support my trouble, That my grief may not o'erwhelm me, And my sorrow may not crush me, In these weary days of evil, In this time of deep depression." In her grave his mother wakened, 220 Answered from beneath the billows: "Still thy mother lives and hears thee, And thy aged mother wakens, That she plainly may advise thee. How to best support thy trouble. That thy grief may not o'erwhelm thee, And thy sorrow may not crush thee, In these weary days of evil, In these days of deep depression. Seek thou out the maids of Pohja, 230 Where the daughters are more handsome, And the maidens twice as lovely, And are five or six times nimbler, Not like lazy girls of Jouko, Lapland's fat and sluggish daughters. "Thence a wife, O son, provide thee, From the fairest maids of Pohja; Choose a maid of fair complexion, Lovely, too, in every feature, One whose feet are always nimble, 240 Always active in her movements." Joukahainen cherishes hatred against V?in?m?inen and lies in wait for him on his journey to Pohjola . He sees him riding past and shoots at him, but only kills his horse . V?in?m?inen falls into the water and is driven out to sea by a tempest, while Joukahainen rejoices, because he thinks he has at last overcome V?in?m?inen . V?in?m?inen, old and steadfast, Now resolved upon a journey To the cold and dreary regions Of the gloomy land of Pohja. Then he took his straw-hued stallion Like a pea-stalk in his colour, And the golden bit adjusted, Bridle on his head of silver, On his back himself he seated, And he started on his journey, 10 And he trotted gently onward, At an easy pace he journeyed, Mounted on the straw-hued courser, Like a pea-stalk in his colour. Thus through V?in?l? he journeyed, Over Kalevala's wide heathlands, And the horse made rapid progress, Home behind, and journey shortened, Then across the sea he journeyed, O'er the far-extending billows, 20 With the horse's hoofs unwetted, And his feet unsunk in water. But the youthful Joukahainen, He, the puny son of Lapland, Long had cherished his resentment, And had long indeed been envious Of the aged V?in?m?inen, Of the ever-famous minstrel Then he wrought a mighty crossbow. And a splendid bow he fashioned, 30 And he formed the bow of iron, Overlaid the back with copper. And with gold inlaid it also, And with silver he adorned it. Where did he obtain the bowstring? Whence a cord to match the weapon? Sinews from the elk of Hiisi, And the hempen cord of Lempo. Thus at length the bow was finished. And the stock was quite completed, 40 And the bow was fair to gaze on, And its value matched its beauty. At its back a horse was standing, On the stock a foal was running, On the curve a sleeping woman, At the catch a hare was couching. Shafts of wood he likewise fashioned. Every arrow triply feathered, And the shafts were formed of oakwood, And he made the heads of pinewood; 50 Thus the arrows were completed, And he fixed the feathers on them, From the swallows' plumage taken. Likewise from the tails of sparrows. After this, the points he sharpened. And the arrow-points he poisoned. In the black blood of the serpent, In the blood of hissing adders. Thus he made his arrows ready, And his bow was fit for bending, 60 And he watched for V?in?m?inen, Waited for Suvantolainen, Watched at morning, watched at evenings Waited also through the noontide. Long he watched for V?in?m?inen, Waited long, and wearied never, Sitting gazing from the window, Or upon the stairs he waited, Sometimes lurking by the pathway, Sometimes watching in the meadow, 70 On his back his well-filled quiver, 'Neath his arm his crossbow ready. Then he waited further onwards. Lurking near another building, On the cape that juts out sharply, Where the tongue of land curves outward. Near a waterfall, all foaming. Past the banks of sacred rivers. And at length one day it happened. Very early in the morning, 80 As he turned his eyes to westward, And he turned his head to eastward Something dark he spied on ocean. Something blue upon the billows. "Is a cloud in east arising, Or the dawn of day appearing?" In the east no cloud was rising, Nor the dawn of day appearing. 'Twas the aged V?in?m?inen, 'Twas the ever-famous minstrel, 90 Who to Pohjola was hasting, As to Pimentola he journeyed, Mounted on his straw-hued courser. Like a pea-stalk in his colour. Then the youthful Joukahainen, He, the meagre son of Lapland, Spanned in haste his mighty crossbow. And he aimed the splendid weapon At the head of V?in?m?inen, Thus to kill Suvantolainen. 100 Then his mother came and asked him, And the aged one inquired, "Wherefore do you span your weapon, Bending thus the iron crossbow?" Then the youthful Joukahainen Answered in the words which follow. "Therefore do I span the weapon. Bending thus the iron crossbow. For the head of V?in?m?inen, Thus to kill Suvantolainen, 110 I will shoot old V?in?m?inen, Strike the ever-famous minstrel, Through the heart, and through the liver, 'Twixt the shoulders I will shoot him." But his mother straight forbade him, And dissuaded him from shooting. "Do not shoot at V?in?m?inen, Do not Kalevalainen slaughter. Of a noble race is V?in?; He's my sister's son, my nephew. 120 "If you shoot at V?in?m?inen, And should Kalevalainen slaughter. Gladness from the world will vanish, And from earth will song be banished. In the world is gladness better. And on earth is song more cheerful, Than to Manala if banished. And to Tuonela's darkest regions." Then the youthful Joukahainen Paused a moment and reflected, 130 And he pondered for an instant, Though his hands to shoot were ready, One would shoot, and one restrained him, But his sinewy fingers forced him. And at length these words he uttered, And expressed his own decision: "What if twice from earth in future Every gladness should be banished? Let all songs for ever vanish; I will shoot my arrows, heedless!" 140 Then he spanned the mighty crossbow. And he drew the bow of copper, And against his left knee bent it, Steady with his foot he held it, Took an arrow from his quiver, Chose a triple-feathered arrow, Took the strongest of his arrows, Chose the very best among them, Then upon the groove he laid it, On the hempen cord he fixed it, 150 Then his mighty bow he lifted, And he placed it to his shoulder, Ready now to shoot the arrow, And to shoot at V?in?m?inen. And he spoke the words which follow: "Do thou strike, O birchwood arrow, Strike thou in the back, O pinewood. Twang thy best, O hempen bowstring! If my hand is leaning downward, Let the arrow then strike higher, 160 If my hand is bending upward, Let the arrow then strike downward!" Quickly then he drew the trigger, Shot the first among his arrows. Far too high the shaft flew upward. High above his head to skyward, And it whizzed among the cloudlets, Through the scattered clouds it wandered. Thus he shot, in reckless fashion, Shot the second of his arrows. 170 Far too low the shot flew downwards. Deep in Mother Earth 'twas sunken. Earth was almost sunk to Mana, And the hills of sand were cloven. Then he shot again, a third time, And the third shaft, straighter flying, In the blue elk's spleen was buried, Under aged V?in?m?inen, Thus he shot the straw-hued courser, Like a pea-stalk in his colour; 180 Through the flesh beneath his shoulder, In the left side deep he pierced him. Then the aged V?in?m?inen, Plunged his fingers in the water, With his hands the waves he parted, Grasping at the foaming billows, From the blue elk's back he tumbled From the steed of pea-stalk colour. Then a mighty wind arising Raised upon the sea a billow, 190 And it bore old V?in?m?inen, Swimming from the mainland further, O'er the wide expanse of water, Out into the open ocean. Then the youthful Joukahainen Uttered words of boastful triumph: "Now thou ancient V?in?m?inen, Never while thy life endureth, In the course of all thy lifetime, While the golden moon is shining, 200 Walk in V?in?l?'s fair meadows. Or on Kalevala's broad heathlands! "May you toss for six years running, Seven long summers ever drifting, Tossed about for over eight years, On the wide expanse of water, On the surface of the billows, Drift for six years like a pine-tree, And for seven years like a fir-tree, And for eight years like a tree-stump!" 210 Then the house again he entered, And at once his mother asked him, "Have you shot at V?in?m?inen? Slaughtered Kaleva's famous offspring?" Then the youthful Joukahainen Answered in the words which follow "I have shot at V?in?m?inen, And have o'erthrown Kalevalainen, Sent him swimming in the water, Swept him out upon the billows, 220 On the restless waves of ocean Where the waves are wildly tossing, And the old man plunged his fingers And his palms amid the waters, Then upon his side he tumbled, And upon his back he turned him, Drifting o'er the waves of ocean, Out upon the foaming billows." But his mother made him answer, "Very evil hast thou acted, 230 Thus to shoot at V?in?m?inen And to o'erthrow Kalevalainen. Of Suvantola the hero, Kalevala's most famous hero." V?in?m?inen swims for several days on the open sea . The eagle, grateful to him for having spared the birch-tree for him to rest on, when he was felling the trees takes V?in?m?inen on his wings, and carries him to the borders of Pohjola, where the Mistress of Pohjola takes him to her abode, and receives him hospitably . V?in?m?inen desires to return to his own country, and the Mistress of Pohjola permits him to depart, and promises him her daughter in marriage if he will forge the Sampo in Pohjola . V?in?m?inen promises that when he returns home he will send the smith Ilmarinen to forge the Sampo, and the Mistress of Pohjola gives him a horse and a sledge to convey him home . V?in?m?inen, old and steadfast, Swam upon the open ocean, Drifting like a fallen pine-tree, Like a rotten branch of fir-tree, During six days of the summer, And for six nights in succession, While the sea spread wide before him, And the sky was clear above him. Thus he swam for two nights longer, And for two days long and dreary. 10 When the ninth night darkened round him, And the eighth day had passed over, Sudden anguish came upon him, And his pain grew ever greater. From his toes his nails were dropping, And the joints from off his fingers. Then the aged V?in?m?inen Spoke in words like those which follow: "Woe to me, unhappy creature, Overburdened with misfortune! 20 I have wandered from my country, And my ancient home abandoned. 'Neath the open sky for ever, Driven along in sun and moonlight, Rocked about by winds for ever, Tossed about by every billow, On the wide expanse of water, Out upon the open ocean, Here I live a cold existence, And 'tis painful thus to wallow, 30 Always tossing on the billows, On the surface of the waters. "Now, alas, I know no longer How to lead this life of sadness In this everlasting trouble, In an age when all is fleeting. Shall I rear in wind a dwelling, Build a house upon the waters? "If I rear in wind a dwelling, Then the wind would not sustain it; 40 If I build a house on water, Then the waves will drift it from me." Came a bird from Lapland flying, From the north-east came an eagle, Not the largest of the eagles, Nor was he among the smallest, With one wing he swept the water, To the sky was swung the other; On the sea his tail he rested, On the cliffs his beak he rattled. 50 Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page |
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