Runo X: The Forging of the Sampo

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,Took his horse of chestnut colour,And between the shafts he yoked him,Yoked before the sledge the chestnut,On the sledge himself he mounted,And upon the seat he sat him.

Quickly then his whip he flourished,Cracked his whip, all bead-embroidered,Quick he sped upon his journey,Lurched the sledge, the way was shortened,Loudly rang the birchwood runners,And the rowan cumber rattled.

On he rushed with speed tremendous,Through the swamps and open country,O'er the heaths, so wide extending.Thus he drove a day, a second,And at length, upon the third day,Reached the long bridge-end before himKalevala's extended heathlands,Bordering on the field of Osmo.

Then he spoke the words which follow,And expressed himself in this wise:"Wolf, do thou devour the dreamer,Seize the Laplander, O sickness,He who said that I should neverIn my lifetime reach my homestead,Nor again throughout my lifetime,Nor as long as shines the moonlight,Neither tread Väinölä's meadows;Kalevala's extended heathlands."

Then the aged Väinämöinen,Spoke aloud his songs of magic,And a flower-crowned birch grew upward,Crowned with flowers, and leaves all golden,And its summit reached to heaven,To the very clouds uprising.In the air the boughs extended,And they spread themselves to heaven.

Then he sang his songs of magic,And he sang a moon all shining,On the pine-tree's golden summit;And the Great Bear in the branches.

On he drove with speed tremendous,Straight to his beloved homestead,Head bowed down, and thoughts all gloomy,And his cap was tilted sideways,For the great smith Ilmarinen,He the great primeval craftsman,He had promised as his surety,That his own head he might rescueOut of Pohjola's dark regions,Sariola for ever misty.

Presently his horse he haltedAt the new-cleared field of Osmo,And the aged Väinämöinen,In the sledge his head uplifted,Heard the noise within the smithy,And the clatter in the coal-shed.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,Then himself the smithy entered,And he found smith Ilmarinen,Wielding mightily his hammer.

Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,"O thou aged Väinämöinen,Where have you so long been staying.Where have you so long been living?"

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,Answered in the words which follow:"There have I so long been staying,There have I so long been living,In the gloomy land of Pohja,Sariola for ever misty.Long I coursed on Lapland snowshoes,With the world-renowned magicians."

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,Answered in the words which follow:"O thou aged Väinämöinen,Thou the great primeval sorcerer.Tell me of your journey thither;Tell me of your homeward journey."

Said the aged Väinämöinen,"Much indeed have I to tell you:Lives in Pohjola a maiden,In that village cold a virgin,Who will not accept a suitor,Mocks the very best among them.Half of all the land of PohjaPraises her surpassing beauty.From her temples shines the moonlight,From her breasts the sun is shining,And the Great Bear from her shoulders,From her back the starry Seven.

"Thou thyself, smith Ilmarinen,Thou, the great primeval craftsman,Go thyself to woo the maiden,And behold her shining tresses.If you can but forge a Sampo,With its many-coloured cover,You will then receive the maiden,And the fair maid be your guerdon."

Said the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,"O thou aged Väinämöinen,You have perhaps already pledged meTo the gloomy land of Pohja,That your own head you might rescue,And might thus secure your freedom.Not in course of all my lifetime,While the golden moon is shining,Hence to Pohjola I'll journey,Huts of Sariola so dreary,Where the people eat each other,And they even drown the heroes."

Then the aged VäinämöinenAnswered in the words which follow:"There is wonder after wonder;There's a pine with flowery summit,Flowery summit, leaves all golden,Near where Osmo's field is bordered.On the crown the moon is shining,In the boughs the Bear is resting."

Said the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,"This I never can believe in,If I do not go to see it,And my own eyes have not seen it."

Said the aged Väinämöinen,"If you cannot then believe it,We will go ourselves, and witnessWhether true or false the story."

Then they both went forth to see it,View the pine with flowery summit,First walked aged Väinämöinen,And smith Ilmarinen second.When they reached the spot they sought for,On the edge of Osmo's cornfield,Then the smith his steps arrested,In amazement at the pine-tree,With the Great Bear in the branches,And the moon upon its summit.

Then the aged Väinämöinen,Spoke the very words which follow:"Now thou smith, my dearest brother,Climb and fetch the moon above us,Bring thou, too, the Great Bear shiningOn the pine-tree's golden summit."

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,Climbed aloft into the pine-tree,Up he climbed into the daylight,Climbed to fetch the moon above him,And the Great Bear, shining brightly,On the pine-tree's golden summit.

Said the pine-tree's golden summit,Said the widely-branching pine-tree,"Mighty man, of all most foolish,O most thoughtless of the heroes!In my branches, fool, thou climbest,To my summit, as a boy might,And would'st grasp the moon's reflection,And the false stars thou beholdest!"

Then the aged Väinämöinen,Lifted up his voice in singing.As he sang uprose a tempest,And the wind rose wildly furious,And he spoke the words which follow.And expressed himself in thiswise:"In thy boat, O wind, convey him,In thy skiff, O breeze, convey him,Bear him to the distant regionsOf the gloomy land of Pohja."

Then there rose a mighty tempest,And the wind so wildly furiousCarried off smith Ilmarinen,Hurried him to distant regions,To the gloomy land of Pohja,Sariola for ever misty.

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,Journeyed forth, and hurried onwards,On the tempest forth he floated,On the pathway of the breezes,Over moon, and under sunray,On the shoulders of the Great Bear,Till he reached the halls of Pohja,Baths of Sariola the gloomy,Yet the tailed-dogs were not barking,And the watch-dogs were not yelping.

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress,Old and gap-toothed dame of Pohja,In the house she stood and listened,And at length she spoke as follows:"Who then are you among mortals,Who among the roll of heroes,On the tempest-path who comest,On the sledgeway of the breezes,Yet the dogs ran forth not, barking,And the shaggy-tailed ones barked not."

Said the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,"Surely I have not come hitherThat the village dogs should shame me,Or the shaggy-tailed ones hurt me,Here behind these foreign portals,And behind these unknown fences."

Then did Pohjola's old MistressQuestion thus the new-come stranger:"Have you ever on your travels,Heard reports of, or encounteredHim, the great smith Ilmarinen,Most accomplished of the craftsmen?Long have we been waiting for him,Long been anxious for his comingHere to Pohjola's dark regions,That a Sampo he might forge us."

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,Answered in the words which follow:"I have met upon my journeyWith the smith named Ilmarinen;I myself am Ilmarinen,And a most accomplished craftsman."

Louhi, Pohjola's old Mistress,Old and gap-toothed dame of Pohja,Hurried back into her dwelling,And she spoke the words which follow:"Come my daughter, thou the youngest,Thou the fairest of my children,Robe thyself in choicest raiment,Clothe thee in the brightest-coloured,In the finest of your dresses,Brightest beads upon thy bosom,Round thy neck the very finest,And upon thy temples shining.See thou that thy cheeks are rosy,And thy countenance is cheerful.Here's the smith named Ilmarinen,He the great primeval craftsman,Who will forge the Sampo for us,With its brightly-pictured cover."

Then the lovely maid of Pohja,Famed on land, on water peerless,Took the choicest of her dresses,And the brightest of her garments,And the fifth at last selected.Then her head-dress she adjusted,And her copper belt girt round her,And her wondrous golden girdle.

Back she came from out the storeroom,Dancing back into the courtyard,And her eyes were brightly shining.As she moved, her earrings jingled,And her countenance was charming,And her lovely cheeks were rosy.Gold was shining on her bosom,On her head was silver gleaming.

Then did Pohjola's old Mistress,Lead the smith named Ilmarinen,Into Pohjola's great castle.Rooms of Sariola the gloomy.There she set a meal before him,Gave the hero drink in plenty,And she feasted him profusely,And at length she spoke as follows:"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,Thou the great primeval craftsman,If you can but forge a Sampo,With its many-coloured cover,From the tips of swans' white wing-plumes,From the milk of barren heifer,From a little grain of barley,From the wool of sheep of summer,Will you then accept this maiden,As reward, my charming daughter?"

Then the smith named IlmarinenAnswered in the words which follow:"I will go to forge the Sampo,Weld its many-coloured cover,From the tips of swans' white wing-plumes,From the milk of barren heifer,From a little grain of barley,From the wool of sheep of summer,For 'twas I who forged the heavens,And the vault of air I hammered,Ere the air had yet beginning,Or a trace of aught was present."

Then he went to forge the Sampo,With its many-coloured cover,Sought a station for a smithy,And he needed tools for labour;But no place he found for smithy,Nor for smithy, nor for bellows,Nor for furnace, nor for anvil,Not a hammer, nor a mallet.

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,Spoke aloud the words which follow:"None despair, except old women,Scamps may leave their task unfinished;Not a man, how weak soever,Not a hero of the laziest!"

For his forge he sought a station,And a wide place for the bellows,In the country round about him,In the outer fields of Pohja.So he sought one day, a second,And at length upon the third dayFound a stone all streaked with colours,And a mighty rock beside it.Here the smith his search abandoned,And the smith prepared his furnace,On the first day fixed the bellows,And the forge upon the second.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,He the great primeval craftsman,Heaped the fuel upon the fire,And beneath the forge he thrust it,Made his servants work the bellows,To the half of all their power.

So the servants worked the bellows,To the half of all their power.During three days of the summer,During three nights of the summer.Stones beneath their heels were resting,And upon their toes were boulders.

On the first day of their labourHe himself, smith Ilmarinen,Stooped him down, intently gazing,To the bottom of the furnace,If perchance amid the fireSomething brilliant had developed.

From the flames there rose a crossbow,Golden bow from out the furnace;'Twas a gold bow tipped with silver,And the shaft shone bright with copper.

And the bow was fair to gaze on,But of evil disposition,And a head each day demanded,And on feast-days two demanded.

He himself, smith Ilmarinen,Was not much delighted with it,So he broke the bow to pieces,Cast it back into the furnace,Made his servants work the bellows,To the half of all their power.So again upon the next day,He himself, smith Ilmarinen,Stooped him down, intently gazingTo the bottom of the furnace,And a boat rose from the furnace,From the heat rose up a red boat,And the prow was golden-coloured,And the rowlocks were of copper.

And the boat was fair to gaze on,But of evil disposition;It would go to needless combat,And would fight when cause was lacking.

Therefore did smith IlmarinenTake no slightest pleasure in it,And he smashed the boat to splinters,Cast it back into the furnace;Made his servants work the bellows,To the half of all their power.Then upon the third day likewise,He himself, smith Ilmarinen,Stooped him down, intently gazingTo the bottom of the furnace,And a heifer then rose upward,With her horns all golden-shining,With the Bear-stars on her forehead;On her head appeared the Sun-disc.

And the cow was fair to gaze on,But of evil disposition;Always sleeping in the forest,On the ground her milk she wasted.

Therefore did smith IlmarinenTake no slightest pleasure in her,And he cut the cow to fragments,Cast her back into the furnace,Made his servants work the bellows,To the half of all their power.

So again upon the fourth day,He himself, smith IlmarinenStooped him down, and gazed intentlyTo the bottom of the furnace,And a plough rose from the furnace,With the ploughshare golden-shining,Golden share, and frame of copper,And the handles tipped with silver.

And the plough was fair to gaze on,But of evil disposition,Ploughing up the village corn fields,Ploughing up the open meadows.

Therefore did smith IlmarinenTake no slightest pleasure in it.And he broke the plough to pieces,Cast it back into the furnace,Call the winds to work the bellowsTo the utmost of their power.

Then the winds arose in fury,Blew the east wind, blew the west wind,And the south wind yet more strongly,And the north wind howled and blustered.Thus they blew one day, a second,And upon the third day likewise.Fire was flashing from the windows,From the door the sparks were flyingAnd the dust arose to heaven;With the clouds the smoke was mingled.Then again smith Ilmarinen,On the evening of the third day,Stooped him down, and gazed intentlyTo the bottom of the furnace,And he saw the Sampo forming,With its many-coloured cover.

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,He the great primeval craftsman,Welded it and hammered at it,Heaped his rapid blows upon it,Forged with cunning art the Sampo,And on one side was a corn-mill,On another side a salt-mill,And upon the third a coin-mill.

Now was grinding the new Sampo,And revolved the pictured cover,Chestfuls did it grind till evening,First for food it ground a chestful,And another ground for barter,And a third it ground for storage.

Now rejoiced the Crone of Pohja,And conveyed the bulky Sampo,To the rocky hills of Pohja,And within the Mount of Copper,And behind nine locks secured it.There it struck its roots around it,Fathoms nine in depth that measured,One in Mother Earth deep-rooted,In the strand the next was planted,In the nearest mount the third one.

Afterwards smith Ilmarinen,Asked the maiden as his guerdon,And he spoke the words which follow:"Will you give me now the maiden,For the Sampo is completed,With its beauteous pictured cover?"

Then the lovely maid of PohjaAnswered in the words which follow:"Who in years that this shall follow,For three summers in succession,Who shall hear the cuckoo calling,And the birds all sweetly singing,If I seek a foreign country,As in foreign lands a berry?

"If the dove had thus departed,And the maiden thus should wander,Strayed away the mother's darling,Likewise would the cranberries vanish,All the cuckoos vanish with them,And the nightingales would migrate,From the summit of this mountain,From the summits of these uplands.

"Not as yet can I abandonMy delightful life as maiden,And my innocent employmentsIn the glowing heat of summer.All unplucked the mountain-berries,And the lakeshore will be songless,And unvisited the meadows,And in woods I sport no longer."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,He the great primeval craftsman,Sad, and with his head down-hanging,And his cap in grief thrust sideways,Presently began to ponder,In his head long time debatingHow he now should journey homeward,To his own familiar country,From the gloomy land of Pohja,Sariola for ever misty.

Then said Pohjola's old Mistress,"O thou smith, O IlmarinenWherefore is thy mind so saddened,And thy cap in grief pushed sideways?Are you thinking how to journey,Homeward to your native country?"

Said the smith, e'en Ilmarinen,"Yes, my thoughts are there directedTo my home that I may die there,And may rest in scenes familiar."

Then did Pohjola's old MistressSet both meat and drink before him,At the boat-stern then she placed him,There to work the copper paddle.And she bade the wind blow strongly,And the north wind fiercely bluster.

Thus it was smith IlmarinenHe the great primeval craftsman,Travelled homeward to his country,O'er the blue sea's watery surface.Thus he voyaged one day, a second,And at length upon the third day,Reached the smith his home in safety,In the land where he was nurtured.

Asked the aged Väinämöinen,When he saw smith Ilmarinen,"Ilmarinen, smith and brother,Thou the great primeval craftsman,Hast thou forged a new-made Sampo,With its many-coloured cover?"

Then replied smith Ilmarinen,Ready with a fitting answer,"Grinds forth meal, the new-made Sampo,And revolves the pictured cover,Chestfuls does it grind till evening,First for food it grinds a chestful,And another grinds for barter,And a third it grinds for storage."