Chapter 18

"Then my voice was loud and tuneful, And its tones were most melodious, Like the flowing of a river, Or the murmur of a streamlet, 340 Gliding as o'er snow the snowshoes, Like a yacht across the billows; But 'tis hard for me to tell you How my wisdom has departed, How my voice so strong has failed me, And its sweetness has departed. Now it flows no more like river, Rising like the tossing billows, But it halts like rake in stubble, Like the hoe among the pine-roots, 350 Like a sledge in sand embedded, Or a boat on rocks when stranded."

Then the aged Väinämöinen In such words as these expressed him: "If no other bard comes forward To accompany my singing, Then alone my songs I'll carol, And will now commence my singing, For to sing was I created, As an orator was fashioned; 360 How, I ask not in the village, Nor I learn my songs from strangers."

Then the aged Väinämöinen Of the song the lifelong pillar, Set him to the pleasant labour, Girt him for the toil of singing, Loud he sang his songs so pleasing, Loud he spoke his words of wisdom.

Sang the aged Väinämöinen, Sang by turns, and spoke his wisdom, 370 Nor did words that suited fall him, Neither were his songs exhausted, Sooner stones in rocks were missing, Or a pond lacked water-lilies.

Therefore thus sang Väinämöinen Through the evening for their pleasure, And the women all were laughing, And the men in high good-humour, While they listened and they wondered At the chants of Väinämöinen, 380 For amazement filled the hearers, Wonder those who heard him singing.

Said the aged Väinämöinen, When at length his song he ended, "This is what I have accomplished As a singer and magician, Little can I thus accomplish, And my efforts lead me nowhere: But, If sang the great Creator, Speaking with his mouth of sweetness, 390 He would sing his songs unto you, As a singer and magician.

"He would sing the sea to honey, And to peas would sing the gravel, And to malt would sing the seasand, And to salt would sing the gravel, Forest broad would sing to cornland, And the wastes would sing to wheatfields, Into cakes would sing the mountains, And to hens' eggs change the mountains. 400

"As a singer and magician, He would speak, and he would order, And would sing unto this homestead, Cowsheds ever filled with cattle, Lanes o'erfilled with beauteous blossoms, And the plains o'erfilled with milch-kine, Full a hundred horned cattle, And with udders full, a thousand.

"As a singer and magician, He would speak and he would order 410 For our host a coat of lynxskin, For our mistress cloth-wrought dresses, For her daughters boots with laces, And her sons with red shirts furnish.

"Grant, O Jumala, thy blessing, Evermore, O great Creator, Unto those we see around us, And again in all their doings, Here, at Pohjola's great banquet, This carouse at Sariola held, 420 That the ale may stream in rivers, And the mead may flow in torrents, Here in Pohjola's great household, In the halls at Sariola built, That by day we may be singing, And may still rejoice at evening Long as our good host is living, In the lifetime of our hostess.

"Jumala, do thou grant thy blessing, O Creator, shed thy blessing, 430 On our host at head of table, On our hostess in her storehouse, On their sons, the nets when casting, On their daughters at their weaving. May they have no cause for trouble, Nor lament the year that follows, After their protracted banquet, This carousal at the mansion!"

RUNO XXII.--THE TORMENTING OF THE BRIDE

_Argument_

The bride is prepared for her journey and is reminded of her past life and of the altered life that now lies before her (1-124). She becomes very sorrowful (125-184). They bring her to weeping (185-382). She weeps (383-448). They comfort her (449-522).

When the drinking-bout was ended, And the feast at length was over, At the festival at Pohja, Bridal feast held at Pimentola, Then said Pohjola's old Mistress, To the bridegroom, Ilmarinen, "Wherefore sit'st thou, highly-born one, Waitest thou, O pride of country? Sit'st thou here to please the father, Or for love of mother waitest, 10 Or our dwelling to illumine, Or the wedding guests to honour?

"Not for father's pleasure wait'st thou, Nor for love thou bear'st the mother, Nor the dwelling to illumine, Nor the wedding guests to honour; Here thou sit'st for maiden's pleasure, For a young girl's love delaying, For the fair one whom thou long'st for, Fair one with unbraided tresses. 20

"Bridegroom, dearest of my brothers, Wait a week, and yet another; For thy loved one is not ready, And her toilet is not finished. Only half her hair is plaited, And a half is still unplaited.

"Bridegroom, dearest of my brothers, Wait a week, and yet another, For thy loved one is not ready, And her toilet is not finished; 30 One sleeve only is adjusted, And unfitted still the other.

"Bridegroom, dearest of my brothers, Wait a week, and yet another, For thy loved one is not ready, And her toilet is not finished. For one foot is shod already, But unshod remains the other.

"Bridegroom, dearest of my brothers, Wait a week, and yet another, 40 For thy loved one is not ready, And her toilet is not finished. For one hand is gloved already, And ungloved is still the other.

"Bridegroom, dearest of my brothers, Thou hast waited long unwearied; For thy love at length is ready, And thy duck has made her toilet.

"Go thou forth. O plighted maiden, Follow thou, O dove new-purchased! 50 Near to thee is now thy union, Nearer still is thy departure, He who leads thee forth is with thee, At the door is thy conductor, And his horse the bit is champing, And his sledge awaits the maiden.

"Thou wast fond of bridegroom's money Reaching forth thy hands most greedy Glad to take the chain he offered, And to fit the rings upon thee. 60 Now the longed-for sledge is ready, Eager mount the sledge so gaudy, Travel quickly to the village, Quickly speeding on thy journey.

"Hast thou never, youthful maiden, On both sides surveyed the question, Looked beyond the present moment, When the bargain was concluded? All thy life must thou be weeping, And for many years lamenting, 70 How thou left'st thy father's household, And thy native land abandoned, From beside thy tender mother, From the home of she who bore thee.

"O the happy life thou leddest, In this household of thy father! Like a wayside flower thou grewest, Or upon the heath a strawberry, Waking up to feast on butter, Milk, when from thy bed arising, 80 Wheaten-bread, from couch upstanding, From thy straw, the fresh-made butter, Or, if thou could eat no butter, Strips of pork thou then could'st cut thee.

"Never yet wast thou in trouble, Never hadst thou cause to worry, To the fir-trees tossed thou trouble, Worry to the stumps abandoned, Care to pine-trees in the marshlands, And upon the heaths the birch-trees. 90 Like a leaflet thou wast fluttering, As a butterfly wast fluttering, Berry-like in native soil, Or on open ground a raspberry.

"But thy home thou now art leaving, To another home thou goest, To another mother's orders, To the household of a stranger. Different there from here thou'lt find it In another house 'tis different; 100 Other tunes the horns are blowing, Other doors thou hearest jarring, Other gates thou hearest creaking, Other voices at the fishlines.

"There the doors thou hardly findest, Strange unto thee are the gateways, Not like household daughter art thou, May not dare to blow the fire, Nor the stove canst rightly heaten, So that thou canst please the master. 110

"Didst thou think, O youthful maiden, Didst thou think, or didst imagine, Only for a night to wander, In the morn again returning? 'Tis not for one night thou goest, Not for one night, not for two nights, For a longer time thou goest. Thou for months and days hast vanished, Lifelong from thy father's dwelling, For the lifetime of thy mother, 120 And the yard will then be longer, And the threshold lifted higher, If again thou ever earnest, To thy former home returning."

Now the hapless girl was sighing, Piteously she sighed and panted, And her heart was filled with trouble, In her eyes the tears were standing, And at length she spoke as follows: "Thus I thought, and thus imagined, 130 And throughout my life imagined, Said throughout my years of childhood, Thou art not as maid a lady In the wardship of thy parents, In the meadows of thy father, In thy aged mother's dwelling. Thou wilt only be a lady When thy husband's home thou seekest, Resting one foot on the threshold, In his sledge the other placing, 140 Then thy head thou liftest higher, And thy ears thou liftest higher.

"This throughout my life I wished for, All my youthful days I hoped for, And throughout the year I wished it, Like the coming of the summer. Now my hope has found fulfilment; Near the time of my departure; One foot resting on the threshold, In my husband's sledge the other, 150 But I do not yet know rightly, If my mind has not been altered. Not with joyful thoughts I wander Nor do I depart with pleasure From the golden home beloved, Where I passed my life in childhood, Where I passed my days of girlhood, Where my father lived before me. Sadly I depart in sorrow, Forth I go, most sadly longing, 160 As into the night of autumn, As on slippery ice in springtime, When on ice no track remaineth, On its smoothness rests no footprint.

"What may be the thoughts of others, And of other brides the feelings? Do not other brides encounter, Bear within their hearts the trouble, Such as I, unhappy, carry? Blackest trouble rests upon me, 170 Black as coal my heart within me, Coal-black trouble weighs upon me.

"Such the feelings of the blessed, Such the feelings of the happy; As the spring day at its dawning, Or the sunny spring-day morning; But what thoughts do now torment me, And what thoughts arise within me? Like unto a pond's flat margin, Or of clouds the murky border; 180 Like the gloomy nights of autumn, Or the dusky day of winter, Or, as I might better say it, Darker than the nights of autumn!"

Then an old crone of the household, In the house for long abiding, Answered in the words which follow: "Quiet, quiet, youthful maiden! Dost remember, how I told thee, And a hundred times repeated, 190 Take no pleasure in a lover, In a lover's mouth rejoice not, Do not let his eyes bewitch thee, Nor his handsome feet admire? Though his mouth speaks charming converse, And his eyes are fair to gaze on, Yet upon his chin is Lempo; In his mouth there lurks destruction.

"Thus I always counsel maidens, And to all their kind I counsel, 200 Though great people come as suitors, Mighty men should come as wooers, Yet return them all this answer; And on thy side speak unto them, In such words as these address them, And in thiswise speak unto them: 'Not the least would it beseem me, Not beseem me, or become me, As a daughter-in-law to yield me, As a slave to yield my freedom. 210 Such a pretty girl as I am, Suits it not to live as slave-girl, To depart consent I never, To submit to rule of others. If another word you utter, I will give you two in answer, If you by my hair would pull me, And you by my locks would drag me, From my hair I'd quickly shake you, From my locks dishevelled drive you.' 220

"But to this thou hast not hearkened, To my words thou hast not listened, Wilfully thou sought'st the fire, In the boiling tar hast cast thee. Now the fox's sledge awaits thee, To the bear's hug art thou going, And the fox's sledge will take thee, Far away the bear convey thee, Ever slave to other masters, Ever slave of husband's mother. 230

"From thy home to school thou goest, From thy father's house to suffering. Hard the school to which thou goest, Long the pain to which thou goest. Reins for thee are bought already, Iron fetters all in order, Not for others are they destined, But alas, for thee, unhappy.

"Shortly wilt thou feel their harshness, Helpless feel, and unprotected, 240 For the father's chin is wagging, And the mother's tongue is stormy; And the brother's words are coldness, And the sister's harsh reproaches.

"Hear, O maiden, what I tell thee, What I speak, and what I tell thee, In thy home thou wast a floweret, And the joy of father's household, And thy father called thee Moonlight, And thy mother called thee Sunshine, 250 And thy brother Sparkling Water, And thy sister called thee Blue-cloth. To another home thou goest, There to find a stranger mother. Never is a stranger mother Like the mother who has borne thee: Seldom does she give good counsel, Seldom gives the right instructions. Sprig the father shouts against thee, Slut the mother calls unto thee, 260 And the brother calls thee Doorstep, And the sister, Nasty Creature.

"Now the best that could await thee, Best the fate that could await thee, If as fog thou wert dispersing, From the house like smoke departing, Blown like leaf away that flutters, As a spark away is drifted.

"But a bird that flies thou art not, Nor a leaf away that flutters, 270 Nor a spark in drafts that's drifting, Nor the smoke from house ascending.

"Lack-a-day, O maid, my sister! Changed hast thou, and what art changing! Thou hast changed thy much-loved father For a father-in-law, a bad one; Thou hast changed thy tender mother For a mother-in-law most stringent; Thou hast changed thy noble brother For a brother-in-law so crook-necked, 280 And exchanged thy gentle sister For a sister-in-law all cross-eyed; And hast changed thy couch of linen For a sooty hearth to rest on; And exchanged the clearest water For the muddy margin-water, And the sandy shore hast bartered For the black mud at the bottom; And thy pleasant meadow bartered For a dreary waste of heathland; 290 And thy hills of berries bartered For the hard stumps of a clearing.

"Didst thou think, O youthful maiden, Think, O dove, full-fledged at present, Care would end and toil be lessened, With the party of this evening, When to rest thou shalt betake thee, And to sleep thou art conducted?

"But to rest they will not lead thee, Nor to sleep will they conduct thee; 300 Nought awaits thee now but watching, Nought awaits thee now save trouble, Heavy thoughts will come upon thee, Saddened thoughts will overwhelm thee.

"Long as thou didst wear no head-dress, Wert thou also free from trouble; When no linen veil waved round thee, Thou wast also free from sorrow. Now the head-dress brings thee trouble, Heavy thoughts the linen fabric, 310 And the linen veil brings sorrow, And the flax brings endless trouble.

"How may live at home a maiden? Maid in father's house abiding; Like a monarch in his palace, Only that the sword is wanting, But a son's wife's fate is dismal! With her husband she is living As a prisoner lives in Russia, Only that the jailor's wanting. 320

"Work she must in working season, And her shoulders stoop with weakness, And her body faints with weakness, And with sweat her face is shining. Then there comes another hour When there's need to make the fire, And to put the hearth in order, She must force her hands to do it.

"Long must seek, this girl unhappy, Long the hapless one must seek for, 330 Salmon's mind, and tongue of perchling, And her thoughts from perch in fishpond, Mouth of bream, of chub the belly, And from water-hen learn wisdom.

"'Tis beyond my comprehension, Nine times can I not imagine, To the mother's much-loved daughters, Best beloved of all her treasures, Whence should come to them the spoiler, Where the greedy one was nurtured, 340 Eating flesh, and bones devouring, To the wind their hair abandoning, And their tresses wildly tossing, To the wind of springtime gives them.

"Weep thou, weep thou, youthful maiden, When thou weepest, weep thou sorely. Weep thyself of tears a handful, Fill thy fists with tears of longing, Drop them in thy father's dwelling, Pools of tears upon the flooring, 350 Till the room itself is flooded, And above the floor in billows! If thou weepest yet not freely Thou shalt weep when thou returnest, When to father's house thou comest, And shalt find thy aged father Suffocated in the bathroom, 'Neath his arm a dried-up bath-whisk.

"Weep thou, weep thou, youthful maiden, When thou weepest, weep thou sorely; 360 If thou weepest not yet freely, Thou shalt weep when thou returnest, When to mother's house thou comest, And thou find'st thy aged mother Suffocated in the cowshed, In her dying lap a straw-sheaf.

"Weep thou, weep thou, youthful maiden, When thou weepest, weep thou sorely. If thou weepest yet not freely, Thou shalt weep when thou returnest, 370 When to this same house thou comest, And thou find'st thy rosy brother Fallen in the porch before it, In the courtyard helpless fallen.

"Weep thou, weep thou, youthful maiden, When thou weepest, weep thou sorely. If thou weepest yet not freely, Thou shalt weep when thou returnest, When to this same house thou comest, And thou find'st thy gentle sister 380 Fallen down upon the pathway, And beneath her arm a mallet."

Then the poor girl broke out sobbing, And awhile she sobbed and panted, And she soon commenced her weeping, Pouring forth her tears in torrents.

Then she wept of tears a handful, Filled her fists with tears of longing, Wet she wept her father's dwelling, Pools of tears upon the flooring, 390 And she spoke the words which follow, And expressed herself in thiswise: "O my sisters, dearest to me, Of my life the dear companions, All companions of my childhood, Listen now to what I tell you. 'Tis beyond my comprehension Why I feel such deep oppression, Making now my life so heavy, Why this trouble weighs upon me, 400 Why this darkness rests upon me; How I should express my sorrow.

"Otherwise I thought and fancied, Wished it different, all my lifetime, Thought to go as goes the cuckoo, Crying 'Cuckoo' from the hill-tops, Now the day I have attained to, Come the time that I had wished for; But I go not like the cuckoo, Crying 'Cuckoo' from the hill-tops, 410 More as duck amid the billows, On the wide bay's open waters, Swimming in the freezing water, Shivering in the icy water.

"Woe, my father and my mother, Woe, alas, my aged parents! Whither would you now dismiss me, Drive a wretched maid to sorrow, Make me thus to weep for sorrow, Overburdened thus with trouble, 420 With distress so heavy-burdened, And with care so overloaded?

"Better, O unhappy mother, Better, dearest who hast borne me. O thou dear one, who hast suckled, Nurtured me throughout my lifetime, Hadst thou swaddled up a tree-stump, And hadst bathed a little pebble, Rather than have washed thy daughter, And have swaddled up thy darling, 430 For this time of great affliction, And of this so grievous sorrow.

"Many speak unto me elsewise, Many counsel me in thiswise: 'Do not, fool, give way to sorrow, Let not gloomy thoughts oppress thee.' Do not, O ye noble people, Do not speak to me in thiswise! Far more troubles weigh upon me, Than in a cascade are pebbles, 440 Than in swampy ground the willows, Or the heath upon the marshland. Never can a horse pull forward, And a shod horse struggle onward, And the sledge sway not behind him, And the collar shall not tremble. Even thus I feel my trouble, And oppressed by dark forebodings."

From the floor there sang an infant, From the hearth a growing infant. 450 "Wherefore dost thou weep, O maiden, Yielding to such grievous sorrow? Cast thy troubles to the horses, Sorrow to the sable gelding. Leave complaints to mouths of iron, Lamentations to the thick-heads, Better heads indeed have horses, Better heads, and bones much harder, For their arching necks are firmer, All their frame is greatly stronger. 460

"No, thou hast no cause for weeping, Nor to yield to grievous sorrow; To the marsh they do not lead thee, Push thee not into the ditches. Leavest thou these fertile cornfields, Yet to richer fields thou goest, Though they take thee from the brewery, 'Tis to where the ale's abundant.

"If around thee now thou gazest, Just beside thee where thou standest, 470 There thy bridegroom stands to guard thee, By thy side thy ruddy husband. Good thy husband, good his horses, All things needful fill his cellars, And the grouse are loudly chirping, On the sledge, as glides it onwards, And the thrushes make rejoicing, As they sing upon the traces, And six golden cuckoos likewise Flutter on the horse's collar, 480 Seven blue birds are also perching, On the sledge's frame, and singing.

"Do not yield thee thus to trouble, O thou darling of thy mother! For no evil fate awaits thee, But in better case thou comest, Sitting by thy farmer husband, Underneath the ploughman's mantle, 'Neath the chin of the bread-winner, In the arms of skilful fisher, 490 Warm from chasing elk on snowshoes, And from bathing after bear-hunt.

"Thou hast found the best of husbands, And hast won a mighty hero, For his bow is never idle, Neither on the pegs his quivers; And the dogs in house he leaves not, Nor in hay lets rest the puppies.