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Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland – Volume 02


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Pohyola.

        With his whip he strikes his courser,

        With his birch-whip, pearl-enamelled;

        Straightway speeds the fiery charger,

        Noiselessly upon his journey,

        Gallops fast and gallops faster,

        Till the flying steed in terror

        Neighs again and ceases running.

        Lemminkainen, quickly rising,

        Cranes his neck and looks about him,

        Sees his mother's words were truthful,

        Sees her augury well-taken.

        Lo! before him yawned a fire-gulf,

        Stretching crosswise through his pathway;

        Far to east the gulf extending,

        To the west an endless distance,

        Filled with stones and burning pebbles,

        Running streams of burning matter.

        Little heeding, Lemminkainen

        Cries aloud in prayer to Ukko:

        "Ukko, thou O God above me,

        Dear Creator, omnipresent,

        From the north-west send a storm-cloud,

        From the east, dispatch a second,

        From the south send forth a third one;

        Let them gather from the south-west,

        Sew their edges well together,

        Fill thou well the interspaces,

        Send a snow-fall high as heaven,

        Let it fall from upper ether,

        Fall upon the flaming fire-pit,

        On the cataract and whirlpool!"

        Mighty Ukko, the Creator,

        Ukko, father omnipresent,

        Dwelling in the courts of heaven,

        Sent a storm-cloud from the north-west,

        From the east he sent a second,

        From the south despatched a third one,

        Let them gather from the south-west,

        Sewed their edges well together,

        Filled their many interspaces,

        Sent a snow-fall high as heaven,

        From the giddy heights of ether,

        Sent it seething to the fire-pit,

        On the streams of burning matter;

        From the snow-fall in the fire-pond,

        Grows a lake with rolling billows.

        Quick the hero, Lemminkainen,

        Conjures there of ice a passage

        From one border to the other,

        Thus escapes his second danger,

        Thus his second trouble passes.

        Then the reckless Lemminkainen

        Raised his pearl-enamelled birch-rod,

        Snapped his whip above his racer,

        And the steed flew onward swiftly,

        Galloped on his distant journey

        O'er the highway to Pohyola;

        Galloped fast and galloped faster,

        Galloped on a greater distance,

        When the stallion loudly neighing,

        Stopped and trembled on the highway,

        Then the lively Lemminkainen

        Raised himself upon the cross-bench,

        Looked to see what else had happened;

        Lo I a wolf stands at the portals,

        in the passage-way a black-bear,

        At the high-gate of Pohyola,

        At the ending of the journey.

        Thereupon young Lemminkainen,

        Handsome hero, Kaukomieli,

        Thrusts his fingers in his pockets,

        Seeks his magic pouch of leather,

        Pulls therefrom a lock of ewe-wool,

        Rubs it firmly in his fingers,

        In his hands it falls to powder;

        Breathes the breath of life upon it,

        When a flock of sheep arises,

        Goats and sheep of sable color;

        On the flock the black-wolf pounces,

        And the wild-bear aids the slaughter,

        While the reckless Lemminkainen

        Rushes by them on his journey;

        Gallops on a little distance,

        To the court of Sariola,

        Finds the fence of molten iron,

        And of steel the rods and pickets,

        In the earth a hundred fathoms,

        To the azure sky, a thousand,

        Double-pointed spears projecting;

        On each spear were serpents twisted,

        Adders coiled in countless numbers,

        Lizards mingled with the serpents,

        Tails entangled pointing earthward,

        While their heads were skyward whirling,

        Writhing, hissing mass of evil.

        Then the stout-heart, Kaukomieli,

        Deeply thought and long considered:

        "It is as my mother told me,

        This the wall that she predicted,

        Stretching from the earth to heaven;

        Downward deep are serpents creeping,

        Deeper still the rails extending;

        High as highest flight of eagles,

        Higher still the wall shoots upward."

        But the hero, Lemminkainen,

        Little cares, nor feels disheartened,

        Draws his broadsword from its scabbard,

        Draws his mighty blade ancestral,

        Hews the wall with might of magic,

        Breaks the palisade in pieces,

        Hews to atoms seven pickets,

        Chops the serpent-wall to fragments;

        Through the breach he quickly passes

        To the portals of Pohyola.

        In the way, a serpent lying,

        Lying crosswise in the entry,

        Longer than the longest rafters,

        Larger than the posts of oak-wood;

        Hundred-eyed, the heinous serpent,

        And a thousand tongues, the monster,

        Eyes as large as sifting vessels,

        Tongues as long as shafts of javelins,

        Teeth