Chapter 21

Now the hapless girl was sighing, Sighing much, and sobbing sadly; Presently she broke out weeping, And she spoke the words which follow: 300 "Soon most now depart the others, And the time is fast approaching, But my own departure's nearer, Swiftly comes my time for parting. Mournful is indeed my going, Sad the hour of my departure, From this far-renowned village, And this ever-charming homestead, Where my face was ever joyful, And I grew to perfect stature, 310 All the days that I was growing, While my childhood's years were passing.

"Until now I never pondered, Nor believed in all my lifetime, Never thought on my departure, Realized my separation, From the precincts of this castle, From the hill where it is builded. Now I feel I am departing, And I know that I am going. 320 Empty are the parting goblets, And the ale of parting finished, And the sledges all are waiting, Front to fields, and back to homestead, With one side towards the stables, And the other to the cowhouse.

"Whence comes now my separation, Whence my sadness at departure, How my mother's milk repay her. Or the goodness of my father, 330 Or my brother's love repay him, Or my sister's fond affection?

"Thanks to thee, my dearest father, For my former life so joyful, For the food of days passed over, For the best of all the dainties Thanks to thee, my dearest mother, For my childhood's cradle-rocking, For thy tending of the infant, Whom thou at thy breast hast nurtured. 340

"Also thanks, my dearest brother, Dearest brother, dearest sister, Happiness to all the household, All companions of my childhood, Those with whom I lived and sported, And who grew from childhood with me.

"May thou not, O noble father, May thou not, O tender mother, Or my other noble kindred, Or my race, the most illustrious, 350 Ever fall into affliction, Or oppressed by grievous trouble, That I thus desert my country, That I wander to a distance. Shines the sun of the Creator, Beams the moon of the Creator, And the stars of heaven are shining, And the Great Bear is extended Ever in the distant heavens, Evermore in other regions, 360 Not alone at father's homestead, In the home where passed my childhood.

"Truly must I now be parted From the home I loved so dearly, From my father's halls be carried, From among my mother's cellars, Leave the swamps and fields behind me, Leave behind me all the meadows, Leave behind the sparkling waters, Leave the sandy shore behind me, 370 Where the village women bathe them, And the shepherd-boys are splashing.

"I must leave the quaking marshes, And the wide-extending lowlands, And the peaceful alder-thickets, And the tramping through the heather, And the strolling past the hedgerows, And the loitering on the pathways, And my dancing through the farmyards, And my standing by the house-walls, 380 And the cleaning of the planking, And the scrubbing of the flooring, Leave the fields where leap the reindeer, And the woods where run the lynxes, And the wastes where flock the wild geese, And the woods where birds are perching.

"Now indeed I am departing, All the rest I leave behind me; In the folds of nights of autumn, On the thin ice of the springtime, 390 On the ice I leave no traces, On the slippery ice no footprints, From my dress no thread upon it, Nor in snow my skirt's impression.

"If I should return in future, And again my home revisit, Mother hears my voice no longer, Nor my father heeds my weeping, Though I'm sobbing in the corner, Or above their heads am speaking, 400 For the young grass springs already And the juniper is sprouting O'er the sweet face of my mother, And the cheeks of her who bore me.

"If I should return in future To the wide-extended homestead, I shall be no more remembered, Only by two little objects. At the lowest hedge are hedge-bands, At the furthest field are hedge-stakes, 410 These I fixed when I was little, As a girl with twigs I bound them.

"But my mother's barren heifer, Unto which I carried water, And which as a calf I tended, She will low to greet my coming, From the dunghill of the farmyard, Or the wintry fields around it; She will know me, when returning, As the daughter of the household. 420

"Then my father's splendid stallion, Which I fed when I was little, Which as girl I often foddered, He will neigh to greet my coming, From the dunghill of the farmyard, Or the wintry fields around it; He will know me, when returning, As the daughter of the household.

"Then the dog, my brother's favourite Which as child I fed so often, 430 Which I trained when in my girlhood, He will bark to greet my coming, From the dunghill of the farmyard, Or the wintry fields around it; He will know me, when returning, As the daughter of the household.

"But the others will not know me, To my former home returning, Though my boats are still the old ones, As when here I lived aforetime, 440 By the shores where swim the powans, And the nets are spread as usual.

"Now farewell, thou room beloved, Thou my room, with roof of boarding; Good it were for me returning, That I once again should scrub thee.

"Now farewell, thou hall beloved, Thou my hall, with floor of boarding; Good it were for me returning, That I once again should scrub thee. 450

"Now farewell, thou yard beloved, With my lovely mountain-ashtree; Good it were for me returning, Once again to wander round thee.

"Now farewell to all things round me, Berry-bearing fields and forests, And the flower-bearing roadsides, And the heaths o'ergrown with heather, And the lakes with hundred islands, And the depths where swim the powans, 460 And the fair hills with the fir-trees, And the swampy ground with birch-trees."

Then the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, In the sledge the maiden lifted, With his whip he lashed the coursers, And he spoke the words which follow: "Now farewell to all the lakeshores, Shores of lakes, and slopes of meadows, All the pine-trees on the hill-sides, And the tall trees in the firwoods, 470 And behind the house the alders, And the junipers by well-sides, In the plains, all berry-bushes, Berry-bushes, stalks of grasses, Willow-bushes, stumps of fir-trees, Alder-leaves, and bark of birch-trees!"

Thus at length, smith Ilmarinen Forth from Pohjola departed, With the children farewells singing, And they sang the words which follow: 480

"Hither flew a bird of blackness, Through the wood he speeded swiftly, Well he knew to lure our duckling, And entice from us our berry, And he took from us our apple, Drew the fish from out the water, Lured her with a little money, And enticed her with his silver. Who will fetch us now the water, Who will take us to the river? 490

"Now remain the buckets standing, And the yoke is idly rattling, And the floor unswept remaineth, And unswept remains the planking, Empty now are all the pitchers, And the jugs two-handled dirty."

But the smith, e'en Ilmarinen, With the young girl hastened homeward, Driving rattling on his journey, From the magic coast of Pohja, 500 By the shore of Sound of Sima. On he drove across the sandhills, Shingle crashed, and sand was shaking, Swayed the sledge, the pathway rattled, Loudly rang the iron runners, And the frame of birch resounded, And the curving laths were rattling, Shaking was the cherry collar, And the whiplash whistling loudly, And the rings of copper shaking, 510 As the noble horse sprang forward, As the White-front galloped onward.

Drove the smith one day, a second, Driving likewise on the third day; With one hand the horse he guided, And with one embraced the damsel, One foot on the sledge-side rested, Underneath the rug the other. Quick they sped, and fast they journeyed, And at length upon the third day 520 Just about the time of sunset, Hove in sight the smith's fair dwelling And they came to Ilma's homestead, And the smoke in streaks ascended, And the smoke rose thickly upward, From the house in wreaths arising, Up amid the clouds ascending.

RUNO XXV.--THE HOME-COMING OF THE BRIDE AND BRIDEGROOM

_Argument_

The bride, the bridegroom and their company are received at the home of Ilmarinen (1-382). The company are hospitably entertained with food and drink: and Väinämöinen sings the praises of the host, the hostess, the inviter, the bridesmaid, and the other wedding-guests (383-672). On the way back Väinämöinen's sledge breaks down, but he repairs it, and drives home (673-738).

Long already 'twas expected, Long expected and awaited, That the new bride soon would enter The abode of Ilmarinen; And the eyes with rheum were dripping Of the old folks at the windows, And the young folks' knees were failing As about the door they waited, And the children's feet were freezing, By the wall as they were standing, 10 Mid-aged folks their shoes were spoiling, As upon the beach they wandered.

And at length upon a morning, Just about the time of sunrise, From the wood they heard a rattling, As the sledge came rushing onward.

Lokka then the kindest hostess, Kaleva's most handsome matron, Uttered then the words which follow: "'Tis my son's sledge now approaching, 20 As from Pohjola he cometh, And he brings the youthful damsel. Straight he journeys to this country, To the homestead hastens onward, To the house his father gave him, Which his parents had constructed."

Therefore thus did Ilmarinen Hasten forward to the homestead, To the house his father gave him, Which his parents had constructed. 30

Hazel-grouse were twittering blithely On the collar formed of saplings, And the cuckoos all were calling, On the sledge's sides while sitting, And the squirrels leaped and frolicked On the shafts of maple fashioned.

Lokka then the kindest hostess, Kaleva's most beauteous matron, Uttered then the words which follow, And in words like these expressed her: 40

"For the new moon waits the village, And the young await the sunrise, Children search where grow the berries, And the water waits the tarred boat; For no half-moon have I waited, Nor the sun have I awaited, But I waited for my brother, For my brother and step-daughter, Gazed at morning, gazed at evening, Knew not what had happened to them, 50 If a child he had been rearing, Or a lean one he had fattened, That he came not any sooner, Though he faithfully had promised Soon to turn his footsteps homeward, Ere defaced had been his footprints.

"Ever gazed I forth at morning, And throughout the day I pondered, If my brother was not coming, Nor his sledge was speeding onward 60 Swiftly to this little homestead, To this very narrow dwelling. Though the horse were but a straw one, And the sledge were but two runners, Yet a sledge I still would call it, And a sledge would still esteem it, If it homeward brought my brother, And another fair one with him.

"Thus throughout my life I wished it, This throughout the day I looked for, 70 Till my head bowed down with gazing, And my hair bulged up in ridges, And my bright eyes were contracted, Hoping for my brother's coming Swiftly to this little household, To this very narrow dwelling, And at length my son is coming, And in truth is coming swiftly, With a lovely form beside him, And a rose-cheeked girl beside him. 80

"Bridegroom, O my dearest brother, Now the white-front horse unharness, Do thou lead the noble courser To his own familiar pasture, To the oats but lately garnered; Then bestow thy greetings on us, Greet us here, and greet the others, All the people of the village.

"When thou hast bestowed thy greetings, Thou must tell us all thy story. 90 Did thy journey lack adventures, Hadst thou health upon thy journey, To thy mother-in-law when faring, To thy father-in-law's dear homestead, There to woo and win the maiden, Beating down the gates of battle, And the maiden's castle storming, Breaking down the walls uplifted, Stepping on her mother's threshold, Sitting at her father's table? 100

"But I see without my asking, And perceive without inquiry, He has prospered on his journey, With his journey well contented. He has wooed and won the gosling, Beaten down the gates of battle, Broken down the boarded castle, And the walls of linden shattered, When her mother's house he entered, And her father's home he entered. 110 In his care is now the duckling, In his arms behold the dovekin, At his side the modest damsel, Shining in her radiant beauty.

"Who has brought the lie unto us, And the ill report invented, That the bridegroom came back lonely, And his horse had sped for nothing? For the bridegroom comes not lonely, Nor his horse has sped for nothing; 120 Perhaps the horse has brought back something, For his white mane he is shaking, For the noble horse is sweating, And the foal with foam is whitened, From his journey with the dovekin, When he drew the blushing damsel.

"In the sledge stand up, O fair one, On its floor, O gift most noble, Do thou raise thyself unaided, And do thou arise unlifted, 130 If the young man tries to lift thee, And the proud one seeks to raise thee.

"From the sledge do thou upraise thee, From the sledge do thou release thee, Walk upon this flowery pathway, On the path of liver-colour, Which the swine have trod quite even, And the hogs have trampled level, Over which have passed the lambkins, And the horses' manes swept over. 140

"Step thou with the step of gosling, Strut thou with the feet of duckling, In the yard that's washed so cleanly, On the smooth and level grassplot, Where the father rules the household, And the mother holds dominion, To the workplace of the brother, And the sister's blue-flowered meadow.

"Set thy foot upon the threshold, Then upon the porch's flooring, 150 On the honeyed floor advance thou, Next the inner rooms to enter, Underneath these famous rafters, Underneath this roof so lovely.

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, Sang the floor composed of duckbones, That thyself should stand upon it, And the golden roof resounded That thou soon should'st walk beneath it, 160 And the windows were rejoicing, For thy sitting at the windows.

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, Often rattled the door-handles, For the ringed hands that should close them, And the stairs were likewise creaking For the fair one robed so grandly, And the doors stood always open, And their opener thus awaited. 170

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, That the room around has turned it, Unto those the room who dusted, And the hall has made it ready For the sweepers, when they swept it, And the very barns were chirping To the sweepers as they swept them.

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, 180 That the yard in secret turned it To the gatherer of the splinters, And the storehouses bowed downward, For the wanderer who should enter, Rafters bowed, and beams bent downward To receive the young wife's wardrobe.

"It was in this very winter, In the summer just passed over, That the pathways had been sighing For the sweeper of the pathways, 190 And the cowsheds nearer drawing To the cleanser of the cowsheds; Songs and dances were abandoned, Till should sing and dance our duckling.

"On this very day already, And upon the day before it, Early has the cow been lowing, And her morning hay expecting, And the foal has loud been neighing That his truss of hay be cast him, 200 And the lamb of spring has bleated, That its food its mistress bring it.

"On this very day already, And upon the day before it, Sat the old folks at the windows, On the beach there ran the children, By the wall there stood the women, In the porch-door youths were waiting, Waiting for the youthful mistress, And the bride they all awaited. 210

"Hail to all within the household, Likewise hail to all the heroes, Hail, O barn, and all within thee, Barn, and all the guests within thee, Hail, O hall, and all within thee, Birchbark roof, and all thy people, Hail, O room, and all within thee, Hundred-boards, with all thy children! Hail, O moon, to thee, O monarch, And the bridal train so youthful! 220 Never was there here aforetime, Never yesterday nor ever, Was a bridal train so splendid: Never were such handsome people.

"Bridegroom, O my dearest brother, Let the red cloths now be loosened, Laid aside the veils all silken; Let us see thy cherished marten, Whom for five long years thou wooed'st, And for eight years thou hast longed for. 230

"Hast thou brought whom thou hast wished for, Hast thou brought with thee the cuckoo, From the land a fair one chosen, Or a rosy water-maiden?

"But I see without my asking, Comprehend without inquiry, Thou has really brought the cuckoo, Hast the blue duck in thy keeping; Greenest of the topmost branches, Thou hast brought from out the greenwood, 240 Freshest of the cherry-branches, From the freshest cherry-thickets."

On the floor there sat an infant, From the floor spoke out the infant:

"O my brother, what thou bringest, Is a tar-stump void of beauty, Half as long as a tar-barrel, And as tall as is a bobbin.

"Shame, O shame, unhappy bridegroom, All thy life thou hast desired, 250 Vowed to choose from hundred maidens, And among a thousand maidens, Bring the noblest of the hundred, From a thousand unattractive; From the swamp you bring a lapwing, From the hedge you bring a magpie, From the field you bring a scarecrow, From the fallow field a blackbird.

"What has she as yet accomplished, In the summer just passed over, 260 If the gloves she was not weaving, Nor begun to make the stockings? Empty to the house she cometh, To our household brings no presents, Mice are squeaking in the baskets, Long-eared mice are in the coppers."

Lokka, most accomplished hostess, Kaleva's most handsome matron, Heard these wondrous observations, And replied in words which follow: 270

"Wretched child, what art thou saying? To thy own disgrace thou speakest! Thou may'st wonders hear of others, Others may'st perchance disparage, But thou may'st not shame this damsel, Nor the people of this household.

"Bad the words that thou hast uttered, Bad the words that thou hast spoken, With the mouth of calf of night-time, With the head of day-old puppy. 280 Handsome is this noble damsel, Noblest she of all the country, Even like a ripening cranberry, Or a strawberry on the mountain, Like the cuckoo in the tree-top, Little bird in mountain-ashtree, In the birch a feathered songster, White-breast bird upon the maple.

"Ne'er from Saxony came ever, Nor in Viro could they fashion 290 Such a girl of perfect beauty, Such a duck without an equal, With a countenance so lovely, And so noble in her stature, And with arms of such a whiteness, And with slender neck so graceful.

"Neither comes the damsel dowerless, Furs enough she brought us hither, Blankets, too, as gifts she brought us, Cloths as well she carried with her. 300

"Much already has this damsel Wrought by working with her spindle, On her own reel has she wound it, With her fingers much has finished. Cloths of very brilliant lustre Has she folded up in winter, In the spring days has she bleached them, In the summer months has dried them; Splendid sheets the beds to spread on, Cushions soft for heads to rest on, 310 Silken neckcloths of the finest, Woollen mantles of the brightest.

"Noble damsel, fairest damsel, With thy beautiful complexion, In the house wilt thou be honoured, As in father's house the daughter, All thy life shalt thou be honoured, As in husband's house the mistress.

"Never will we cause thee trouble, Never trouble bring upon thee. 320 To the swamp thou wast not carried, Nor from the ditch-side they brought thee, From the cornfields rich they brought thee, But to better fields they led thee, And they took thee from the ale-house, To a home where ale is better.

"Noble girl, and fairest damsel, One thing only will I ask thee, Didst thou notice on thy journey Shocks of corn that stood uplifted, 330 Ears of rye in shocks uplifted, All belonging to this homestead, From the ploughing of thy husband? He has ploughed and he has sown it.

"Dearest girl, and youthful damsel, This is what I now will tell thee, Thou hast willed our house to enter: Be contented with the household. Here 'tis good to be the mistress, Good to be a fair-faced daughter, 340 Sitting here among the milk-pans, Butter-dishes at thy service.

"This is pleasant for a damsel, Pleasant for a fair-faced dovekin. Broad the planking of the bathroom, Broad within the rooms the benches, Here the master's like thy father, And the mistress like thy mother, And the sons are like thy brothers, And the daughters like thy sisters. 350