The Kalevala, Elias Lönnrot [easy novels to read TXT] 📗

Wainamoinen, old and artful,
Gives this answer to the maiden:
“I was brought here by Tuoni,
Mana raised me from the coffin.”
Speaks the maiden of Manala:
“This a tale of wretched liars;
Had Tuoni brought thee hither,
Mana raised thee from the coffin,
Then Tuoni would be with thee,
Manalainen too would lead thee,
With Tuoni’s hat upon thee,
On thy hands, the gloves of Mana;
Tell the truth now, Wainamoinen,
What has brought thee to Manala?”

Wainamoinen, artful hero,
Gives this answer, still finessing:
“Iron brought me to Manala,
To the kingdom of Tuoni.”

Speaks the virgin of the death-land,
Mana’s wise and tiny daughter:
“Well I know that this is falsehood,
Had the iron brought thee hither,
Brought thee to Tuoni’s kingdom,
Blood would trickle from thy vesture,
And the blood-drops, scarlet-colored.
Speak the truth now, Wainamoinen,
This the third time that I ask thee.”

Wainamoinen, little heeding,
Still finesses to the daughter:
“Water brought me to Manala,
To the kingdom of Tuoni.”
This the tiny maiden’s answer:
“Well I know thou speakest falsely;
If the waters of Manala,
If the cataract and whirlpool,
Or the waves had brought thee hither,
From thy robes the drops would trickle,
Water drip from all thy raiment.
Tell the truth and I will serve thee,
What has brought thee to Manala?”

Then the wilful Wainamoinen
Told this falsehood to the maiden:
“Fire has brought me to Manala,
To the kingdom of Tuoni.”
Spake again Tuoni’s daughter:
“Well I know the voice of falsehood.
If the fire had brought thee hither,
Brought thee to Tuoni’s empire,
Singed would be thy locks and eyebrows,
And thy beard be crisped and tangled.
O, thou foolish Wainamoinen,
If I row thee o’er the ferry,
Thou must speak the truth in answer,
This the last time I will ask thee;
Make an end of thy deception.
What has brought thee to Manala,
Still unharmed by pain or sickness,
Still untouched by Death’s dark angels?”
Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:
“At the first I spake, not truly,
Now I give thee rightful answer:
I a boat with ancient wisdom,
Fashioned with my powers of magic,
Sang one day and then a second,
Sang the third day until evening,
When I broke the magic main-spring,
Broke my magic sledge in pieces,
Of my song the fleetest runners;
Then I come to Mana’s kingdom,
Came to borrow here a hatchet,
Thus to mend my sledge of magic,
Thus to join the parts together.
Send the boat now quickly over,
Send me, quick, Tuoni’s row-boat,
Help me cross this fatal river,
Cross the channel of Manala.”

Spake the daughter of Tuoni,
Mana’s maiden thus replying:
“Thou art sure a stupid fellow,
Foresight wanting, judgment lacking,
Having neither wit nor wisdom,
Coming here without a reason,
Coming to Tuoni’s empire;
Better far if thou shouldst journey
To thy distant home and kindred;
May they that visit Mana,
Few return from Mana’s kingdom.”

Spake the good old Wainamoinen:
“Women old retreat from danger,
Not a man of any courage,
Not the weakest of the heroes.
Bring thy boat, Tuoni’s daughter,
Tiny maiden of Manala,
Come and row me o’er the ferry.”

Mana’s daughter does as bidden,
Brings her boat to Wainamoinen,
Quickly rows him through the channel,
O’er the black and fatal river,
To the kingdom of Manala,
Speaks these words to the magician:
“Woe to thee! O Wainamoinen!
Wonderful indeed, thy magic,
Since thou comest to Manala,
Comest neither dead nor dying.”

Tuonetar, the death-land hostess,
Ancient hostess of Tuoni,
Brings him pitchers filled with strong-beer,
Fills her massive golden goblets,
Speaks these measures to the stranger:
“Drink, thou ancient Wainamoinen,
Drink the beer of king Tuoni!”

Wainamoinen, wise and cautious,
Carefully inspects the liquor,
Looks a long time in the pitchers,
Sees the spawning of the black-frogs,
Sees the young of poison-serpents,
Lizards, worms, and writhing adders,
Thus addresses Tuonetar:
“Have not come with this intention,
Have not come to drink thy poisons,
Drink the beer of Tuonela;
Those that drink Tuoni’s liquors,
Those that sip the cups of Mana,
Court the Devil and destruction,
End their lives in want and ruin.”
Tuonetar makes this answer:
“Ancient minstrel, Wainamoinen,
Tell me what has brought thee hither,
Brought thee to the realm of Mana,
To the courts of Tuonela,
Ere Tuoni sent his angels
To thy home in Kalevala,
There to cut thy magic life-thread.”
Spake the singer, Wainamoinen:
“I was building me a vessel,
At my craft was working, singing,
Needed three words of the Master,
How to fasten in the ledges,
How the stern should be completed,
How complete the boat’s forecastle.
This the reason of my coming
To the empire of Tuoni,
To the castles of Manala:
Came to learn these magic sayings,
Learn the lost-words of the Master.”
Spake the hostess, Tuonetar:
“Mana never gives these sayings,
Canst not learn them from Tuoni,
Not the lost-words of the Master;
Thou shalt never leave this kingdom,
Never in thy magic lifetime,
Never go to Kalevala,
To Wainola’s peaceful meadows.
To thy distant home and country.”

Quick the hostess, Tuonetar,
Waves her magic wand of slumber
O’er the head of Wainamoinen,
Puts to rest the wisdom-hero,
Lays him on the couch of Mana,
In the robes of living heroes,
Deep the sleep that settles o’er him.

In Manala lived a woman,
In the kingdom of Tuoni,
Evil witch and toothless wizard,
Spinner of the threads of iron,
Moulder of the bands of copper,
Weaver of a hundred fish-nets,
Of a thousand nets of copper,
Spinning in the days of summer,
Weaving in the winter evenings,
Seated on a rock in water.

In the kingdom of Tuoni
Lived a man, a wicked wizard,
Three the fingers of the hero,
Spinner he of iron meshes,
Maker too of nets of copper,
Countless were his nets of metal,
Moulded on a rock in water,
Through the many days of summer.

Mana’s son with crooked fingers,
Iron-pointed, copper fingers,
Pulls of nets, at least a thousand,
Through the river of Tuoni,
Sets them lengthwise, sets them crosswise,
In the fatal, darksome river,
That the sleeping Wainamoinen,
Friend and brother of the waters,
May not leave the isle of Mana,
Never in the course of ages,
Never leave the death-land castles,
Never while the moonlight glimmers
On the empire of Tuoni.

Wainamoinen, wise and wary,
Rising from his couch of slumber,
Speaks these words as he is waking:
“Is there not some mischief brewing,
Am I not at last in danger,
In the chambers of Tuoni,
In the Manala home and household?”

Quick he changes his complexion,
Changes too his form and feature,
Slips into another body;
Like a serpent in a circle,
Rolls black-dyed upon the waters;
Like a snake among the willows,
Crawls he like a worm of magic,
Like an adder through the grasses,
Through the coal-black stream of death-land,
Through a thousand nets of copper
Interlaced with threads of