Runo XLIV: Väinämöinen's New Kantele

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,In his mind was thus reflecting:"Now the time has come for music,Time to give ourselves to pleasure,In our dwelling newly chosen,In our homestead now so charming,But the kantele is sunken,And my joy has gone for everTo the dwelling-place of fishes,To the rock-caves of the salmon,Where it may enchant the lake-pike,Likewise Vellamo's attendants;But they never will return it,Ahto will no more return it.

"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,Yestreen and before thou workedst,Work to-day with equal vigour.Forge me now a rake of iron,Let the teeth be close together,Close the teeth, and long the handleThat I rake among the billows,And may rake the waves together,And may rake among the lake-reeds,With the rake rake all the margins,And my instrument recover,And the kantele recover,From the devious paths of fishes,From the rocky caves of salmon."

Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,He the great primeval craftsman,Forged for him a rake of iron,Furnished with a copper handle,Teeth in length a hundred fathoms,And the handle full five hundred.

Then the aged VäinämöinenTook the mighty rake of iron,And a little way he wandered,Made a very little journey,Till he reached the quay, steel-fitted,And the landing-stage of copper.There he found a boat, found two boats,Both the boats were waiting readyOn the quay, with steel all fitted,On the landing-stage of copper,And the first boat was a new one,And the second was an old one.

Said the aged Väinämöinen,To the new boat firstly speaking:"Go, thou boat, into the water,To the waves, O vessel, rush thou,Even though no arm should turn thee,Even though no thumbs should touch thee."

Sped the boat into the water,Rushed amid the waves the vessel.Old and steadfast Väinämöinen,In the stern made haste to seat him,And he went to sweep the water,And to sweep among the billows.Scattered leaves of water-lilies,Raked he up among the shore-drift,All the rubbish raked together,All the rubbish, bits of rushes,Every scrap he raked together,All the shoals with care raked over,But he found not, nor discovered,Where his pike-bone harp was hidden,And this joy was gone for ever,With the kantele was sunken.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,Then returned unto his dwelling,Head bowed down, and sadly grieving,And his cap awry adjusted,And he said the words which follow:"Unto me is lost for everPleasure from the harp of pike-teeth,From the harp I made of fish-bone."

As he wandered through the country,On the borders of the woodlands,There he heard a birch-tree weeping,And a speckled tree lamenting,And in that direction hastened,Walking till he reached the birch-tree.

Thereupon he spoke and asked it,"Wherefore weep'st thou, beauteous birch-tree,Shedding tears, O green-leaved birch-tree,By thy belt of white conspicuous?To the war thou art not taken,Longest not for battle-struggle."

Answer made the leaning birch-tree,And the green-leaved tree responded:"There is much that I could speak of,Many things I might reflect on,How I best might live in pleasure,And I might rejoice for pleasure.I am wretched in my sorrow,And can but rejoice in trouble,Living with my life o'erclouded,And lamenting in my sorrow.

"And I weep my utter weakness,And my worthlessness lament for,I am poor, and all unaided,Wholly wretched, void of succour,Here in such an evil station,On a plain among the willows.

"Perfect happiness and pleasureOthers always are expecting,When arrives the beauteous summer,In the warm days of the summer.But my fate is different, wretched,Nought but wretchedness awaits me;And my bark is peeling from me,Down are hewed my leafy branches.

"Often unto me defencelessOft to me, unhappy creature,In the short spring come the children,Quickly to the spot they hurry,And with sharpened knives they score me,Draw my sap from out my body,And in summer wicked herdsmen,Strip from me my white bark-girdle,Cups and plates therefrom constructing,Baskets too, for holding berries.

"Often unto me defenceless,Oft to me, unhappy creature,Come the girls beneath my branches,Come beneath, and dance around me.From my crown they cut the branches,And they bind them into besoms.

"Often too, am I, defenceless,Oft am I, unhappy creature,Hewed away to make a clearing,Cut to pieces into faggots.Thrice already in this summer,In the warm days of the summer,Unto me have come the woodmen,And have hewed me with their axes,Hewed the crown from me unhappy,And my weak life has departed.

"This has been my joy in summer,In the warm days of the summer,But no better was the winter,Nor the time of snow more pleasant.

"And in former times already,Has my face been changed by trouble,And my head has drooped with sadness,And my cheeks have paled with sorrow,Thinking o'er the days of evil,Pondering o'er the times of evil.

"And the wind brought ills upon me,And the frost brought bitter sorrows.Tore the wind my green cloak from me,Frost my pretty dress from off me.Thus am I of all the poorest,And a most unhappy birch-tree,Standing stripped of all my clothing,As a naked trunk I stand here,And in cold I shake and tremble,And in frost I stand lamenting."

Said the aged Väinämöinen,"Weep no more, O verdant birch-tree!Leafy sapling, weep no longer,Thou, equipped with whitest girdle,For a pleasant future waits thee,New and charming joys await thee.Soon shalt thou with joy be weeping,Shortly shalt thou sing for pleasure."

Then the aged VäinämöinenCarved into a harp the birch-tree,On a summer day he carved it,To a kantele he shaped it,At the end of cloudy headland,And upon the shady island,And the harp-frame he constructed,From the trunk he formed new pleasure,And the frame of toughest birchwood;From the mottled trunk he formed it.

Said the aged VäinämöinenIn the very words which follow:"Now the frame I have constructed,From the trunk for lasting pleasure.Whence shall now the screws be fashioned,Whence shall come the pegs to suit me?"

In the yard there grew an oak-tree,By the farmyard it was standing,'Twas an oak with equal branches,And on every branch an acorn,In the acorns golden kernels,On each kernel sat a cuckoo.

When the cuckoos all were calling,In the call five tones were sounding,Gold from out their mouths was flowing,Silver too they scattered round them,On a hill the gold was flowing,On the ground there flowed the silver,And from this he made the harp-screws,And the pegs from that provided.

Said the aged VäinämöinenIn the very words which follow:"Now the harp-screws are constructed,And the harp-pegs are provided.Something even now is wanting,And five strings as yet are needed.How shall I provide the harp-strings,Which shall yield the notes in playing?"

Then he went to seek for harp-strings,And along the heath he wandered.On the heath there sat a maiden,Sat a damsel in the valley,And the maiden was not weeping,Neither was she very joyful.To herself she sang full softly,Sang, that soon might come the evening,Hoping for her lover's coming,For the dear one she had chosen.

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,Crept without his shoes towards her,Sprang to her without his stockings,And as soon as he approached her,He besought her hair to give him,And he spoke the words which follow:"Give thy hair to me, O maiden,Give me of thy hair, O fair one,Give me hair to form my harp-strings,For the tones of lasting pleasure."

Then her hair the maiden gave him,From her soft locks hair she gave him,And she gave him five and six hairs,Seven the hairs she gave unto him,That he thus might form his harp-strings,For the tones of lasting pleasure.

Now the harp at last was finished,And the aged VäinämöinenOn a rock his seat selected,Near the steps, upon a stone bench.

In his hands the harp then taking,Very near he felt his pleasure,And the frame he turned to heaven,On his knees the knob then propping,All the strings he put in order,Fit to make melodious music.When he had the strings adjusted,Then the instrument was ready;Underneath his hands he placed it,And across his knees he laid it,With his ten nails did he play it,And he let five active fingersDraw the tunes from out the harp-strings,Making most delightful music.

When the aged VäinämöinenThus upon his harp was playing,Fine his hands, his fingers tender,And his fingers curving outwards,Then rang out the wood so speckled,Sang the sapling green full loudly,Loudly called the golden cuckoo,And rejoiced the hair of maiden.

Thus played Väinämöinen's fingers,And the harp-strings loud resounded,Mountains shook and plains resounded,All the rocky hills resounded,In the waves the stones were rocking,In the water moved the gravel,And the pine-trees were rejoicing,On the heath the stumps were skipping.

All of Kaleva's step-daughters,All the fair ones flocked together,And in streams they rushed together,Like a river in its flowing.Merry laughed the younger women,And the mothers all were joyful,As they heard the music playing,And they wondered at their pleasure.

Likewise many men were present,In their hands their caps all holding,All the old dames in the partyTo their sides their hands were holding,And the maidens' eyes shed tear-drops,On the ground the boys were kneeling,To the kantele all listening,And they wondered at their pleasure.With one voice they all were singing,With one tongue they all repeated:"Never have we heard aforetime,Heard before such charming music,In the course of all our lifetime,When the brilliant moon was shining."

Far was heard the charming music,In six villages they heard it,There was not a single creatureBut it hurried forth to listen,And to hear the charming musicFrom the kantele resounding.

All the wild beasts of the forestUpright on their claws were restingTo the kantele to listen,And they wondered at their pleasure.

All the birds in air then flying,Perched upon the neighbouring branches,All the fish that swam the waters,To the margin hastened quickly,And the worms in earth then creeping,Up above the ground then hastened,And they turned themselves and listened,Listened to the charming music,In the kantele rejoicing,And in Väinämöinen's singing.

Then the aged VäinämöinenPlayed in his most charming manner,Most melodiously resounding;And he played one day, a second,Playing on, without cessation,Every morning after breakfast,Girded with the selfsame girdle,And the same shirt always wearing.

When he in his house was playing,In his house of fir constructed,All the roofs resounded loudly,And the boards resounded likewise,Ceilings sang, the doors were creaking,All the windows were rejoicing,And the hearthstones all were moving,Birchwood columns sang in answer.

When he walked among the pinewoods,And he wandered through the firwoods,All the pines bowed down before him,To the very ground the fir-trees;On the grass the cones rolled round him,On the roots the needles scattered.

When he hurried through the greenwood,Or across the heath was hastening,All the leaves called gaily to him,And the heath was all rejoicing,And the flowers breathed fragrance round him,And the young shoots bowed before him.