Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland – Volume 02. Неизвестный автор. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Неизвестный автор
Издательство: Public Domain
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Поэзия
Год издания: 0
isbn:
Скачать книгу
old Wainamoinen,

        The eternal wisdom-singer,

        Went again to Mana's empire,

        To the kingdom of Tuoni,

        Crossed the sable stream of Deathland,

        To the castles of Manala,

        Found the auger of Tuoni,

        Brought the instrument in safety.

        Straightway sings old Wainamoinen,

        Sings to life a purple forest,

        In the forest, slender birches,

        And beside them, mighty oak-trees,

        Shapes them into shafts and runners,

        Moulds them by his will and power,

        Makes anew his sledge of magic.

        On his steed he lays the harness,

        Binds him to his sledge securely,

        Seats himself upon the cross-bench,

        And the racer gallops homeward,

        To the manger filled and waiting,

        To the stable of his master;

        Brings the ancient Wainamoinen,

        Famous bard and wise enchanter,

        To the threshold of his dwelling,

        To his home in Kalevala.

      RUNE XXVI

      ORIGIN OF THE SERPENT

        Ahti, living on the island,

        Near the Kauko-point and harbor,

        Plowed his fields for rye and barley,

        Furrowed his extensive pastures,

        Heard with quickened ears an uproar,

        Heard the village in commotion,

        Heard a noise along the sea-shore,

        Heard the foot-steps on the ice-plain,

        Heard the rattle of the sledges;

        Quick his mind divined the reason,

        Knew it was Pohyola's wedding,

        Wedding of the Rainbow-virgin.

        Quick he stopped in disappointment,

        Shook his sable locks in envy,

        Turned his hero-head in anger,

        While the scarlet blood ceased flowing

        Through his pallid face and temples;

        Ceased his plowing and his sowing,

        On the field he left the furrows,

        On his steed he lightly mounted,

        Straightway galloped fleetly homeward

        To his well-beloved mother,

        To his mother old and golden,

        Gave his mother these directions,

        These the words of Lemminkainen:

        "My beloved, faithful mother,

        Quickly bring me beer and viands,

        Bring me food for I am hungry,

        Food and drink for me abundant,

        Have my bath-room quickly heated,

        Quickly set the room in order,

        That I may refresh my body,

        Dress myself in hero-raiment."

        Lemminkainen's aged mother

        Brings her hero food in plenty,

        Beer and viands for the hungry,

        For her thirsting son and hero;

        Quick she heats the ancient bath-room,

        Quickly sets his bath in order.

        Then the reckless Lemminkainen

        Ate his meat with beer inspiring,

        Hastened to his bath awaiting;

        Only was the bullfinch bathing,

        With the many-colored bunting;

        Quick the hero laved his temples,

        Laved himself to flaxen whiteness,

        Quick returning to his mother,

        Spake in haste the words that follow:

        "My beloved, helpful mother,

        Go at once to yonder mountain,

        To the store-house on the hill-top,

        Bring my vest of finest texture,

        Bring my hero-coat of purple,

        Bring my suit of magic colors,

        Thus to make me look attractive,

        Thus to robe myself in beauty."

        First the ancient mother asked him,

        Asked her son this simple question:

        "Whither dost thou go, my hero?

        Dost thou go to hunt the roebuck,

        Chase the lynx upon the mountains,

        Shoot the squirrel in the woodlands?"

        Spake the reckless Lemminkainen,

        Also known as Kaukomieli:

        "Worthy mother of my being,

        Go I not to hunt the roebuck,

        Chase the lynx upon the mountains,

        Shoot the squirrel on the tree-tops;

        I am going to Pohyola,

        To the feasting of her people.

        Bring at once my purple vestments,

        Straightway bring my nuptial outfit,

        Let me don it for the marriage

        Of the maiden of the Northland."

        But the ancient dame dissented,

        And the wife forebade the husband;

        Two of all the best of heroes,

        Three of nature's fairest daughters,

        Strongly urged wild Lemminkainen

        Not to go to Sariola,

        To Pohyola's great carousal,

        To the marriage-feast of Northland,

        "Since thou hast not been invited,

        Since they do not wish thy presence."

        Spake the reckless Lemminkainen.

        These the words of Kaukomieli:

        "Where the wicked are invited,

        There the good are always welcome,

        Herein lies my invitation;

        I am constantly reminded

        By this sword of sharpened edges,

        By this magic blade and scabbard,

        That Pohyola needs my presence."

        Lemminkainen's aged mother

        Sought again to stay her hero:

        "Do not go, my son beloved,

        To the feasting in Pohyola;

        Full