Kalevala, The Land Of The Heroes Volume I Part 35

"When the evening bath is wanted, Fetch the water and the bath-whisks, Have the bath-whisks warm and ready, Fill thou full with steam the bathroom.

Do not take too long about it, Do not loiter in the bathroom, Lest thy father-in-law should fancy, Or thy mother-in-law imagine, You were lying on the bath-boards, On the bench your head reclining. 360

"When the room again you enter, Then announce the bath is ready: 'O my father-in-law beloved, Now the bath is fully ready: Water brought, and likewise bath-whisks, All the boards are cleanly scoured.

Go and bathe thee at thy pleasure, Wash thou there as it shall please thee, I myself will mind the steaming, Standing underneath the boarding.' 370

"When the time has come for spinning, And the time has come for weaving, In the village seek not counsel, Do not cross the ditch for teaching, Seek it not in other households, Nor the weaver's comb from strangers.

"Spin thyself the yarn thou needest, With thy fingers do thou spin it, Let the yarn be loosely twisted, But the flaxen thread more closely. 380 Closely in a ball then wind it, On the winch securely twist it, Fix it then upon the warp-beam, And upon the loom secure it, Then the shuttle fling thou sharply, But the yarn do thou draw gently.

Weave the thickest woollen garments, Woollen gowns construct thou likewise, From a single fleece prepare them, From a winter fleece construct them, 390 From the wool of lamb of springtime, And the fleece of ewe of summer.

"Listen now to what I tell thee, And to what again I tell thee.

Thou must brew the ale of barley, From the malt the sweet drink fashion, From a single grain of barley, And by burning half a tree-trunk.

When the malt begins to sweeten, Take thou up the malt and taste it. 400 With the rake disturb it never, Do not use a stick to turn it, Always use your hands to stir it, And your open hands to turn it.

Go thou often to the malthouse, Do not let the sprout be injured, Let the cat not sit upon it, Or the tomcat sleep upon it.

Of the wolves have thou no terror, Fear thou not the forest monsters, 410 When thou goest to the bath-house, Or at midnight forth must wander.

"When a stranger pays a visit, Be not angry with the stranger, For a well-appointed household, Always has for guests provision: Sc.r.a.ps of meat that are not needed, Cakes of bread the very nicest.

"Ask the guest to sit and rest him, With the guest converse in friendship, 420 With thy talk amuse the stranger, Till the dinner shall be ready.

"When the house the stranger's leaving, And he's taking his departure, Do not thou go with the stranger Any further than the housedoor, Lest the husband should be angry, And thy darling should be gloomy.

"If you e'er feel inclination To the village forth to wander, 430 Ask permission ere thou goest, There to gossip with the strangers.

In the time that you are absent, Speak thy words with heedful caution, Do not grumble at your household, Nor thy mother-in-law abuse thou.

"If the village girls should ask you, Any of the village women, 'Does your mother-in-law give b.u.t.ter, As at home your mother gave you?' 440 Never do thou make the answer, 'No, she does not give me b.u.t.ter;'

Tell thou always that she gives it, Gives it to you by the spoonful, Though 'twas only once in summer, And another time in winter.

"List again to what I tell thee, And again impress upon thee.

When at length this house thou leavest, And thou comest to the other, 450 Do thou not forget thy mother, Or despise thy dearest mother, For it was thy mother reared thee, And her beauteous b.r.e.a.s.t.s that nursed thee, From her own delightful body, From her form of perfect whiteness.

Many nights has she lain sleepless, Many meals has she forgotten, While she rocked thee in thy cradle, Watching fondly o'er her infant. 460

"She who should forget her mother, Or despise her dearest mother, Ne'er to Ma.n.a.la should travel, Nor to Tuonela go cheerful.

There in Ma.n.a.la is anguish, Hard in Tuonela the reckoning, If she has forgot her mother, Or despised her dearest mother.

Tuoni's daughters come reproaching, Mana's maidens all come mocking: 470 'Why hast thou forgot thy mother, Or despised thy dearest mother?

Great the sufferings of thy mother, Great her sufferings when she bore thee, Lying groaning in the bathroom, On a couch of straw extended, When she gave thee thy existence, Giving birth to thee, the vile one!'"

On the ground there sat an old crone, Sat an old dame 'neath her mantle, 480 Wanderer o'er the village threshold, Wanderer through the country's footpaths, And she spoke the words which follow, And in words like these expressed her: "To his mate the c.o.c.k was singing, Sang the hen's child to his fair one, And in March the crow was croaking, And in days of spring was chattering; Rather let my singing fail me, Let me rather check my singing, 490 Chattering in a house all golden, Always near to one who loves me; But no love nor house is left me, And all love departed from me.

"Hear, O sister, what I tell thee, When thy husband's house thou seekest, Follow not thy husband's notions, As was done by me unhappy.

Larks have tongues, and husbands notions; But a lover's heart is greater. 500

"I was as a flower that flourished, As a wild rose in the thicket, And I grew as grows a sapling, Grew into a slender maiden.

I was beauteous as a berry, Rustling in its golden beauty; In my father's yard a duckling, On my mother's floor a gosling, Water-bird unto my brother, And a goldfinch to my sister. 510 Flowerlike walked I on the pathway, As upon the plain the raspberry, Skipping on the sandy lakesh.o.r.e, Dancing on the flower-clad hillocks, Singing loud in every valley, Carolling on every hill-top, Sporting in the leafy forests, In the charming woods rejoicing.

"As the trap the fox-mouth seizes, And the tongue entraps the ermine, 520 Towards a man inclines a maiden, And the ways of other households.

So created is the maiden, That the daughter's inclination Leads her married, as step-daughter, As the slave of husband's mother.

As a berry grows in marshland, And in other waters, cherry.

Like a cranberry sought I sorrow, Like a strawberry exhortation. 530 Every tree appeared to bite me, Every alder seemed to tear me, Every birch appeared to scold me, Every aspen to devour me.

"As my husband's bride they brought me, To my mother-in-law they led me.

Here there were, as they had told me, Waiting for the wedded maiden, Six large rooms of pine constructed, And of bedrooms twice as many. 540 Barns along the forest-borders, By the roadside flowery gardens, By the ditches fields of barley, And along the heaths were oatfields, Chests of corn threshed out already, Other chests awaiting threshing, Hundred coins received already, And a hundred more expected.

"Foolishly had I gone thither, Recklessly my hand had given, 550 For six props the house supported, Seven small poles the house supported, And the woods were filled with harshness, And with lovelessness the forests, By the roadsides dreary deserts, In the woodlands thoughts of evil, Chests containing spoilt provisions, Other chests beside them spoiling; And a hundred words reproachful, And a hundred more to look for. 560

"But I let it not distress me, Hoping there to live in quiet, Wishing there to dwell in honour, And a peaceful life to live there; But when first the room I entered, Over chips of wood I stumbled.

On the door I knocked my forehead, And my head against the doorposts.

At the door were eyes of strangers: Darksome eyes were at the entrance, 570 Squinting eyes in midst of chamber, In the background eyes most evil.

From the mouths the fire was flashing, From beneath the tongues shot firebrands, From the old man's mouth malicious, From beneath his tongue unfriendly.

"But I let it not distress me, In the house I dwelt unheeding, Hoping still to live in favour, And I bore myself with meekness, 580 And with legs of hare went skipping, With the step of ermine hurried, Very late to rest retired, Very early rose to suffering.

But, unhappy, won no honour, Mildness brought me only sorrow, Had I tossed away the torrents, Or the rocks in twain had cloven.

"Vainly did I grind coa.r.s.e flour, And with pain I crushed its hardness, 590 That my mother-in-law should eat it, And her ravenous throat devour it, At the table-end while sitting, From a dish with golden borders.

But I ate, unhappy daughter, Flour sc.r.a.ped up, to handmill cleaving, With my ladle from the hearthstone, With my spoon from off the pestle.

"Oft I brought, O me unhappy, I, the son's wife, to his dwelling, 600 Mosses from the swampy places, And as bread for me I baked it.

Water from the well I carried, And I drank it up in mouthfuls.

Fish I ate, O me unhappy, Smelts I ate, O me unhappy, As above the net I leaned me, In the boat as I was swaying, For no fish received I ever From my mother-in-law neglectful, 610 Neither in a day of plenty, Nor a day of double plenty.

"Fodder gathered I in summer, Winter worked I with the pitchfork, Even as a labourer toiling, Even as a hired servant, And my mother-in-law for ever, Evermore for me selected, Worst of all the flails for threshing, Heaviest mallet from the bathroom, 620 From the beach the heaviest mallet, In the stall the largest pitchfork.

Never did they think me weary, Nor my weakness e'er considered, Though my work had wearied heroes, Or the strength of foals exhausted.

"Thus did I, a girl unhappy, Work at proper time for working, And my shoulders stooped with weakness; And at other times they ordered 630 That the fire should now be kindled, With my hands that I should stir it.

"To their hearts' desire they scolded, With their tongues they heaped reproaches On my spotless reputation, On my character, though stainless.

Evil words they heaped upon me, And abuse they showered upon me, Like the sparks from furious fire, Or a very hail of iron. 640

"Until then despaired I never, And had spent my life as erstwhile There to aid the harsh old woman, To her fiery tongue submitting: But 'twas this that brought me evil, This that caused me greatest anguish, When to wolf was changed my husband, To a growling bear converted, Turned his side to me when eating, Turned his back asleep or working. 650

"I myself broke out in weeping, And I pondered in the storehouse, And my former life remembering, And my life in former seasons, In the homestead of my father, In my sweetest mother's dwelling.

"Then in words I spoke my feelings, And I spoke the words which follow: 'Well indeed my dearest mother Understood to rear her apple, 660 And the tender shoot to cherish, But she knew not where to plant it, For the tender shoot is planted In a very evil station, In a very bad position, 'Mid the hard roots of a birch-tree, There to weep while life remaineth, And to spend the months lamenting.

"'Surely, surely, I am worthy Of a home than this much better, 670 Worthy of a larger homestead, And a floor more wide-extended, Worthy of a better partner, And a husband far more handsome.

With a birchbark shoe I'm fitted, With a slipshod shoe of birchbark, Like a very crow's his body, With a beak like any raven, And his mouth like wolf's is greedy, And his form a bear resembles. 680

"'Such a one I might have found me, If I'd wandered to the mountains, Picked from off the road a pine-stump, From the wood a stump of alder, For his face the turf resembles, And his beard the moss from tree-trunks, Head of clay, and mouth all stony, And his eyes like coals of fire, k.n.o.bs of birch his ears resemble, And his legs are forking willows.' 690

"While my song I thus was singing, Sighing in my grievous trouble, He, my husband, chanced to hear it, At the wall as he was standing.

When I heard him then approaching, At the storehouse gate when standing, I was conscious of his coming, For I recognized his footstep.

And his hair in wind was tossing, And his hair was all disordered, 700 And his gums with rage were grinning, And his eyes with fury staring, In his hand a stick of cherry, 'Neath his arm a club he carried, And he hurried to attack me, And upon the head he struck me.

"When the evening came thereafter, And there came the time for sleeping, At his side a rod he carried, Took from nail a whip of leather, 710 Not designed to flay another, But alas, for me, unhappy.

"Then when I myself retired, To my resting-place at evening, By my husband's side I stretched me, By my side my husband rested, When he seized me by the elbows, With his wicked hands he grasped me, And with willow rods he beat me, And the haft of bone of walrus. 720

"From his cold side then I raised me, And I left the bed of coldness, But behind me ran my husband, From the door came wildly rushing.