Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland Part 35

RUNE XLV.

BIRTH OF THE NINE DISEASES.

Louhi, hostess of the Northland, Heard the word in Sariola, Heard the Dews with ears of envy, That Wainola lives and prospers, That Osmoinen's wealth increases, Through the ruins of the Sampo, Ruins of the lid in colors.

Thereupon her wrath she kindled, Well considered, long reflected, How she might prepare destruction For the people of Wainola, For the tribes of Kalevala.

With this prayer she turns to Ukko, Thus entreats the G.o.d of thunder: "Ukko, thou who art in heaven, Help me slay Wainola's people With thine iron-hail of justice, With thine arrows tipped with lightning, Or from sickness let them perish, Let them die the death deserving; Let the men die in the forest, And the women in the hurdles!"

The blind daughter of Tuoni, Old and wicked witch, Lowyatar, Worst of all the Death-land women, Ugliest of Mana's children, Source of all the host of evils, All the ills and plagues of Northland, Black in heart, and soul, and visage, Evil genius of Lappala, Made her couch along the wayside, On the fields of sin and sorrow; Turned her back upon the East-wind, To the source of stormy weather, To the chilling winds of morning.

When the winds arose at evening, Heavy-laden grew Lowyatar, Through the east-wind's impregnation, On the sand-plains, vast and barren.

Long she bore her weight of trouble, Many morns she suffered anguish, Till at last she leaves the desert, Makes her couch within the forest, On a rock upon the mountain; Labors long to leave her burden By the mountain-springs and fountains, By the crystal waters flowing, By the sacred stream and whirlpool, By the cataract and fire-stream; But her burden does not lighten.

Blind Lowyatar, old and ugly, Knew not where to look for succor, How to lose her weight of sorrow, Where to lay her evil children.

Spake the Highest from the heavens, These, the words of mighty Ukko: "Is a triangle in Swamp-field, Near the border of the ocean, In the never-pleasant Northland, In the dismal Sariola; Thither go and lay thy burden, In Pohyola leave thine offspring; There the Laplanders await thee, There will bid thy children welcome."

Thereupon the blind Lowyatar, Blackest daughter of Tuoni, Mana's old and ugly maiden, Hastened on her journey northward, To the chambers of Pohyola, To the ancient halls of Louhi, There to lay her heavy burdens, There to leave her evil offspring.

Louhi, hostess of the Northland, Old and toothless witch of Pohya, Takes Lowyatar to her mansion; Silently she leads the stranger To the bath-rooms of her chamber, Pours the foaming beer of barley, Lubricates the bolts and hinges, That their movements may be secret, Speaks these measures to Lowyatar: "Faithful daughter of Creation, Thou most beautiful of women, First and last of ancient mothers, Hasten on thy feet to ocean, To the ocean's centre hasten, Take the sea-foam from the waters, Take the honey of the mermaids, And anoint thy sacred members, That thy labors may be lightened.

"Should all this be unavailing, Ukko, thou who art in heaven, Hasten hither, thou art needed, Come thou to thy child in trouble, Help the helpless and afflicted.

Take thy golden-colored sceptre, Charm away opposing forces, Strike the pillars of the stronghold, Open all resisting portals, That the great and small may wander From their ancient hiding-places, Through the courts and halls of freedom."

Finally the blind Lowyatar, Wicked witch of Tuonela, Was delivered of her burden, Laid her offspring in the cradle, Underneath the golden covers.

Thus at last were born nine children, In an evening of the summer, From Lowyatar, blind and ancient, Ugly daughter of Tuoni.

Faithfully the virgin-mother Guards her children in affection, As an artist loves and nurses What his skillful hands have fashioned.

Thus Lowyatar named her offspring, Colic, Pleurisy, and Fever, Ulcer, Plague, and dread Consumption, Gout, Sterility, and Cancer.

And the worst of these nine children Blind Lowyatar quickly banished, Drove away as an enchanter, To bewitch the lowland people, To engender strife and envy.

Louhi, hostess of Pohyola, Banished all the other children To the fog-point in the ocean, To the island forest-covered; Banished all the fatal creatures, Gave these wicked sons of evil To the people of Wainola, To the youth of Kalevala, For the Kalew-tribe's destruction.

Quick Wainola's maidens sicken, Young and aged, men and heroes, With the worst of all diseases, With diseases new and nameless; Sick and dying is Wainola.

Thereupon old Wainamoinen, Wise and wonderful enchanter, Hastens to his people's rescue, Hastens to a war with Mana, To a conflict with Tuoni, To destroy the evil children Of the evil maid, Lowyatar.

Wainamoinen heats the bath-rooms, Heats the blocks of healing-sandstone With the magic wood of Northland, Gathered by the sacred river; Water brings in covered buckets From the cataract and whirlpool; Brooms he brings enwrapped with ermine, Well the bath the healer cleanses, Softens well the brooms of birch-wood; Then a honey-heat be wakens, Fills the rooms with healing vapors, From the virtue of the pebbles Glowing in the heat of magic, Thus he speaks in supplication: "Come, O Ukko, to my rescue, G.o.d of mercy, lend thy presence, Give these vapor-baths new virtues, Grant to them the powers of healing, And restore my dying people; Drive away these fell diseases, Banish them to the unworthy, Let the holy sparks enkindle, Keep this heat in healing limits, That it may not harm thy children, May not injure the afflicted.

When I pour the sacred waters On the heated blocks of sandstone, May the water turn to honey Laden with the balm of healing.

Let the stream of magic virtues Ceaseless flow to all my children, From this bath enrolled in sea-moss, That the guiltless may not suffer, That my tribe-folk may not perish, Till the Master gives permission, Until Ukko sends his minions, Sends diseases of his choosing, To destroy my trusting people.

Let the hostess of Pohyola, Wicked witch that sent these troubles, Suffer from a gnawing conscience, Suffer for her evil doings.

Should the Master of Wainola Lose his magic skill and weaken, Should he prove of little service To deliver from misfortune, To deliver from these evils, Then may Ukko be our healer, Be our strength and wise Physician.

"Omnipresent G.o.d of mercy, Thou who livest in the heavens, Hasten hither, thou art needed, Hasten to thine ailing children, To observe their cruel tortures, To dispel these fell diseases, Drive destruction from our borders.

Bring with thee thy mighty fire-sword, Bring to me thy blade of lightning, That I may subdue these evils, That these monsters I may banish, Send these pains, and ills, and tortures, To the empire of Tuoni, To the kingdom of the east-winds, To the islands of the wicked, To the caverns of the demons, To the rocks within the mountains, To the hidden beds of iron, That the rocks may fall and sicken, And the beds of iron perish.

Rocks and metals do not murmur At the hands of the invader.

"Torture-daughter of Tuoni, Sitting on the mount of anguish, At the junction of three rivers, Turning rocks of pain and torture, Turn away these fell diseases Through the virtues of the blue-stone; Lead them to the water-channels, Sink them in the deeps of ocean, Where the winds can never find them, Where the sunlight never enters.

"Should this prayer prove unavailing, O, Health-virgin, maid of beauty Come and heal my dying people, Still their agonies and anguish, Give them consciousness and comfort, Give them healthful rest and slumber; These diseases take and banish, Take them in thy copper vessel, To thy eaves within the mountains, To the summit of the Pain-rock, Hurl them to thy boiling caldrons.

In the mountain is a touch-stone, Lucky-stone of ancient story, With a hole bored through the centre, Through this pour these pains and tortures, Wretched feelings, thoughts of evil, Human ailments, days unlucky, Tribulations, and misfortunes, That they may not rise at evening, May not see the light of morning."

Ending thus, old Wainamoinen, The eternal, wise enchanter, Rubbed his sufferers with balsams, Rubbed the tissues, red and painful, With the balm of healing flowers, Balsams made of herbs enchanted, Sprinkled all with healing vapors, Spake these words in supplication.

"Ukko, thou who art in heaven, G.o.d of justice, and of mercy, Send us from the east a rain-cloud, Send a dark cloud from the North-west, From the north let fall a third one, Send us mingled rain and honey, Balsam from the great Physician, To remove this plague of Northland.

What I know of healing measures, Only comes from my Creator; Lend me, therefore, of thy wisdom, That I may relieve my people, Save them from the fell destroyer, If my hands should fall in virtue, Let the hands of Ukko follow, G.o.d alone can save from trouble.

Come to us with thine enchantment, Speak the magic words of healing, That my people may not perish; Give to all alleviation From their sicknesses and sorrows; In the morning, in the evening, Let their wasting ailments vanish; Drive the Death-child from Wainola, Nevermore to visit Northland, Never in the course of ages, Never while the moonlight glimmers O'er the lakes of Kalevala."

Wainamoinen, the enchanter, The eternal wisdom-singer, Thus expelled the nine diseases, Evil children or Lowyatar, Healed the tribes of Kalevala, Saved his people from destruction.

RUNE XLVI.

OTSO THE HONEY-EATER.

Came the tidings to Pohyola, To the village of the Northland, That Wainola had recovered From her troubles and misfortunes, From her sicknesses and sorrows.

Louhi, hostess of the Northland, Toothless dame of Sariola, Envy-laden, spake these measures: "Know I other means of trouble, I have many more resources; I will drive the bear before me, From the heather and the mountain, Drive him from the fen and forest, Drive great Otso from the glen-wood On the cattle of Wainola, On the flocks of Kalevala."

Thereupon the Northland hostess Drove the hungry bear of Pohya From his cavern to the meadows, To Wainola's plains and pastures.

Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, To his brother spake as follows: "O thou blacksmith, Ilmarinen, Forge a spear from magic metals, Forge a lancet triple-pointed, Forge the handle out of copper, That I may destroy great Otso, Slay the mighty bear of Northland, That he may not eat my horses, Nor destroy my herds of cattle, Nor the flocks upon my pastures."

Thereupon the skillful blacksmith Forged a spear from magic metals, Forged a lancet triple-pointed, Not the longest, nor the shortest, Forged the spear in wondrous beauty.

On one side a bear was sitting, Sat a wolf upon the other, On the blade an elk lay sleeping, On the shaft a colt was running, Near the hilt a roebuck bounding.

Snows had fallen from the heavens, Made the flocks as white as ermine Or the hare, in days of winter, And the minstrel sang these measures: "My desire impels me onward To the Metsola-dominions, To the homes of forest-maidens, To the courts of the white virgins; I will hasten to the forest, Labor with the woodland-forces.

"Ruler of the Tapio-forests, Make of me a conquering hero, Help me clear these boundless woodlands.

O Mielikki, forest-hostess, Tapio's wife, thou fair Tellervo, Call thy dogs and well enchain them, Set in readiness thy hunters, Let them wait within their kennels.

"Otso, thou O Forest-apple, Bear of honey-paws and fur-robes, Learn that Wainamoinen follows, That the singer comes to meet thee; Hide thy claws within thy mittens, Let thy teeth remain in darkness, That they may not harm the minstrel, May be powerless in battle.

Mighty Otso, much beloved, Honey-eater of the mountains, Settle on the rocks in slumber, On the turf and in thy caverns; Let the aspen wave above thee, Let the merry birch-tree rustle O'er thy head for thy protection.

Rest in peace, thou much-loved Otso, Turn about within thy thickets, Like the partridge at her brooding, In the spring-time like the wild-goose."

When the ancient Wainamoinen Heard his dog bark in the forest, Heard his hunter's call and echo, He addressed the words that follow: "Thought it was the cuckoo calling, Thought the pretty bird was singing; It was not the sacred cuckoo, Not the liquid notes of songsters, 'Twas my dog that called and murmured, 'Twas the echo of my hunter At the cavern-doors of Otso, On the border of the woodlands."

Wainamoinen, old and trusty, Finds the mighty bear in waiting, Lifts in joy the golden covers, Well inspects his shining fur-robes; Lifts his honey-paws in wonder, Then addresses his Creator: "Be thou praised, O mighty Ukko, As thou givest me great Otso, Givest me the Forest-apple, Thanks be paid to thee unending."

To the bear he spake these measures: "Otso, thou my well beloved, Honey-eater of the woodlands, Let not anger swell thy bosom; I have not the force to slay thee, Willingly thy life thou givest As a sacrifice to Northland.

Thou hast from the tree descended, Glided from the aspen branches, Slippery the trunks in autumn, In the fog-days, smooth the branches.

Golden friend of fen and forest, In thy fur-robes rich and beauteous, Pride of woodlands, famous Light-foot, Leave thy cold and cheerless dwelling, Leave thy home within the alders, Leave thy couch among the willows, Hasten in thy purple stockings, Hasten from thy walks restricted, Come among the haunts of heroes, Join thy friends in Kalevala.

We shall never treat thee evil, Thou shalt dwell in peace and plenty, Thou shalt feed on milk and honey, Honey is the food of strangers.

Haste away from this thy covert, From the couch of the unworthy, To a couch beneath the rafters Of Wainola's ancient dwellings.

Haste thee onward o'er the snow-plain, As a leaflet in the autumn; Skip beneath these birchen branches, As a squirrel in the summer, As a cuckoo in the spring-time."

Wainamoinen, the magician, The eternal wisdom-singer, O'er the snow-fields hastened homeward, Singing o'er the hills and mountains, With his guest, the ancient Otso, With his friend, the famous Light-foot, With the Honey-paw of Northland.

Far away was heard the singing, Heard the playing of the hunter, Heard the songs of Wainamoinen; All the people heard and wondered, Men and maidens, young and aged, From their cabins spake as follows: "Hear the echoes from the woodlands, Hear the bugle from the forest, Hear the flute-notes of the songsters, Hear the pipes of forest-maidens!"

Wainamoinen, old and trusty, Soon appears within the court-yard.

Rush the people from their cabins, And the heroes ask these questions: "Has a mine of gold been opened, Hast thou found a vein of silver, Precious jewels in thy pathway?

Does the forest yield her treasures, Give to thee the Honey-eater?

Does the hostess of the woodlands, Give to thee the lynx and adder, Since thou comest home rejoicing, Playing, singing, on thy snow-shoes?"

Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel, Gave this answer to his people: "For his songs I caught the adder, Caught the serpent for his wisdom; Therefore do I come rejoicing, Singing, playing, on my snow-shoes.

Not the mountain lynx, nor serpent, Comes, however, to our dwellings; The Ill.u.s.trious is coming, Pride and beauty of the forest, 'Tis the Master comes among us, Covered with his friendly fur-robe.

Welcome, Otso, welcome, Light-foot, Welcome, Loved-one from the glenwood!

If the mountain guest is welcome, Open wide the gates of entry; If the bear is thought unworthy, Bar the doors against the stranger."

This the answer of the tribe-folk: "We salute thee, mighty Otso, Honey-paw, we bid thee welcome, Welcome to our courts and cabins, Welcome, Light-foot, to our tables Decorated for thy coming!

We have wished for thee for ages, Waiting since the days of childhood, For the notes of Tapio's bugle, For the singing of the wood-nymphs, For the coming of dear Otso, For the forest gold and silver, Waiting for the year of plenty, Longing for it as for summer, As the shoe waits for the snow-fields, As the sledge for beaten highways, As the maiden for her suitor, And the wife her husband's coming; Sat at evening by the windows, At the gates have, sat at morning, Sat for ages at the portals, Near the granaries in winter, Vanished, Till the snow-fields warmed and Till the sails unfurled in joyance, Till the earth grew green and blossomed, Thinking all the while as follows: "Where is our beloved Otso, Why delays our forest-treasure?

Has he gone to distant Ehstland, To the upper glens of Suomi?"

Spake the ancient Wainamoinen: "Whither shall I lead the stranger, Whither take the golden Light-foot?

Shall I lead him to the garner, To the house of straw conduct him?"

This the answer of his tribe-folk: "To the dining-hall lead Otso, Greatest hero of the Northland.

Famous Light-foot, Forest-apple, Pride and glory of the woodlands, Have no fear before these maidens, Fear not curly-headed virgins, Clad in silver-tinselled raiment Maidens hasten to their chambers When dear Otso joins their number, When the hero comes among them."

This the prayer of Wainamoinen: "Grant, O Ukko, peace and plenty Underneath these painted rafters, In this ornamented dweling; Thanks be paid to gracious Ukko!"

Spake again the ancient minstrel: "Whither shall we lead dear Otso, 'Whither take the fur-clad stranger?

This the answer of his people: "Hither let the fur-robed Light-foot Be saluted on his coming; Let the Honey-paw be welcomed To the hearth-stone of the penthouse, Welcomed to the boiling caldrons, That we may admire his fur-robe, May behold his cloak with joyance.

Have no care, thou much-loved Otso, Let not anger swell thy bosom As thy coat we view with pleasure; We thy fur shall never injure, Shall not make it into garments To protect unworthy people."

Thereupon wise Wainamoinen Pulled the sacred robe from Otso, Spread it in the open court-yard, Cut the members into fragments, Laid them in the heating caldrons, In the copper-bottomed vessels-- O'er the fire the crane was hanging, On the crane were hooks of copper, On the hooks the broiling-vessels Filled with bear-steak for the feasting, Seasoned with the salt of Dwina, From the Saxon-land imported, From the distant Dwina-waters, From the salt-sea brought in shallops.

Ready is the feast of Otso; From the fire are swung the kettles On the crane of polished iron; In the centers of the tables Is the bear displayed in dishes, Golden dishes, decorated; Of the fir-tree and the linden Were the tables newly fashioned; Drinking cups were forged from copper, Knives of gold and spoons of silver; Filled the vessels to their borders With the choicest bits of Light-foot, Fragments of the Forest-apple.

Spake the ancient Wainamoinen "Ancient one with bosom golden, Potent voice in Tapio's councils Metsola's most lovely hostess, Hostess of the glen and forest, Hero-son of Tapiola, Stalwart youth in cap of scarlet, Tapio's most beauteous virgin, Fair Tellervo of the woodlands, Metsola with all her people, Come, and welcome, to the feasting, To the marriage-feast of Otso!

All sufficient, the provisions, Food to eat and drink abundant, Plenty for the hosts a.s.sembled, Plenty more to give the village."