Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland – Volume 02. Неизвестный автор

Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland – Volume 02 - Неизвестный автор


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of mighty Ahti,

        Overflow upon the shoulders

        Of the landlord of Pohyola.

        Spake the hero, Lemminkainen:

        "O thou son of Sariola,

        See! indeed thy neck is glowing

        Like the dawning of the morning,

        Like the rising Sun in ocean!"

        Quickly turned Pohyola's landlord,

        Thoughtless host of darksome Northland,

        To behold the fiery splendor

        Playing on his neck and shoulders.

        Quick as lightning, Lemminkainen,

        With his father's blade of battle,

        With a single blow of broadsword,

        With united skill and power,

        Lopped the head of Pohya's master;

        As one cleaves the stalks of turnips,

        As the ear falls from the corn-stalk,

        As one strikes the fins from salmon,

        Thus the head rolled from the shoulders

        Of the landlord of Pohyola,

        Like a ball it rolled and circled.

        In the yard were pickets standing,

        Hundreds were the sharpened pillars,

        And a head on every picket,

        Only one was left un-headed.

        Quick the victor, Lemminkainen,

        Took the head of Pohya's landlord,

        Spiked it on the empty picket.

        Then the Islander, rejoicing,

        Handsome hero, Kaukomieli,

        Quick returning to the chambers,

        Crave this order to the hostess:

        "Evil maiden, bring me water,

        Wherewithal to cleanse my fingers

        From the blood of Northland's master,

        Wicked host of Sariola."

        Ilpotar, the Northland hostess,

        Fired with anger, threatened vengeance,

        Conjured men with heavy broadswords,

        Heroes clad in copper-armor,

        Hundred warriors with their javelins,

        And a thousand bearing cross-bows,

        To destroy the Island-hero,

        For the death of Lemminkainen.

        Kaukomieli soon discovered

        That the time had come for leaving,

        That his presence was unwelcome

        At the feasting of Pohyola,

        At the banquet of her people.

      RUNE XXVIII

      THE MOTHER'S COUNSEL

        Ahti, hero of the Islands,

        Wild magician, Lemminkainen,

        Also known as Kaukomieli,

        Hastened from the great carousal,

        From the banquet-halls of Louhi,

        From the ever-darksome Northland,

        From the dismal Sariola.

        Stormful strode he from the mansion,

        Hastened like the smoke of battle,

        From the court-yard of Pohyola,

        Left his crimes and misdemeanors

        In the halls of ancient Louhi.

        Then he looked in all directions,

        Seeking for his tethered courser,

        Anxious looked in field and stable,

        But he did not find his racer;

        Found a black thing in the fallow,

        Proved to be a clump of willows.

        Who will well advise the hero,

        Who will give him wise directions,

        Guide the wizard out of trouble,

        Give his hero-locks protection,

        Keep his magic head from danger

        From the warriors of Northland?

        Noise is beard within the village,

        And a din from other homesteads,

        From the battle-hosts of Louhi,

        Streaming from the doors and window,

        Of the homesteads of Pohyola.

        Thereupon young Lemminkainen,

        Handsome Islander and hero,

        Changing both his form and features,

        Clad himself in other raiment,

        Changing to another body,

        Quick became a mighty eagle,

        Soared aloft on wings of magic,

        Tried to fly to highest heaven,

        But the moonlight burned his temples,

        And the sunshine singed his feathers.

        Then entreating, Lemminkainen,

        Island-hero, turned to Ukko,

        This the prayer that Ahti uttered:

        "Ukko, God of love and mercy,

        Thou the Wisdom of the heavens,

        Wise Director of the lightning,

        Thou the Author of the thunder,

        Thou the Guide of all the cloudlets,

        Give to me thy cloak of vapor,

        Throw a silver cloud around me,

        That I may in its protection

        Hasten to my native country,

        To my mother's Island-dwelling,

        Fly to her that waits my coming,

        With a mother's grave forebodings."

        Farther, farther, Lemminkainen

        Flew and soared on eagle-pinions,

        Looked about him, backwards, forwards,

        Spied a gray-hawk soaring near him,

        In his eyes the fire of splendor,

        Like the eyes of Pohyalanders,

        Like the eyes of Pohya's spearmen,

        And the gray-hawk thus addressed him:

        "Ho! There! hero, Lemminkainen,

        Art thou thinking of our combat

        With the hero-heads of Northland?"

        Thus the Islander made answer,

        These the words of Kaukomieli:

        "O thou gray-hawk, bird of beauty,

        Fly direct to Sariola,

        Fly as fast as wings can bear thee;

        When thou hast arrived in safety,

        On the plains


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