The Abduction of Linda

The third canto of the Kalevipoeg carries the epic's central catastrophe. While the three sons of Kalev hunt in the forest with their three dogs — Irmi, Armi, and Mustukene — a Finnish sorcerer (Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka) who has long watched from the shadows seizes Linda, their widowed mother, from the homestead by force. She fights — fists, nails, teeth — but his sorcery overpowers her. Her cries fly on the wind but cannot reach the sons. At the last moment, Uku the sky-father sends Thunder to strike the sorcerer on Iru hill. The guardian spirits free Linda by transforming her into a great stone pillar — the Iru Grandmother — releasing her from grief but also from life. The stone still stands near Tallinn; folk tradition says that whoever rolls it downhill at night finds it back in its old place by morning.

Returning home, the brothers find the gate open, the fire dead, and no smoke rising. They call three times into the evening — "Call back, dear mother!" — but only cliffs, forests, waves, and wind answer. Their voices are so powerful that where the sound flies, cliffs break and forests fall. Three brothers search three directions; only the youngest finds traces at the shore. While the two elder brothers choose sleep and dreams, the youngest goes to his father's grave. Kalev speaks from the earth — he cannot rise, for rock presses on his chest and the flowers Linda planted (the same buttercups, blue flowers, and red flowers of Canto II) now cover his face permanently. He can only counsel: "Let the winds guide your road, let the stars give you wisdom."

The canto closes with Kalevipoeg standing alone on the cliff-edge, gazing over the twilit sea for any trace of the kidnapper. The waves roll on indifferently. The stars watch but have no tongue. The grave cannot speak. The moon cannot tell. No answer comes. It is one of the great meditations on grief and the silence of the natural world in European literature.

This is a Good Works Translation by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, translated from the Estonian text of the 1857 first edition as preserved in Project Gutenberg. The parallelism and rhythm of Estonian regivaerss are preserved in the line structure. No existing English translation was consulted as a source.

Kalevipoeg by the Sea

In the sunshine of a dry day
Sat at the edge of the seashore
Kalev's youngest son,
Watched the merry play of waves,
The rolling of the water-bed
At the turning of a light wind.

With sudden threats
A dark cloud burst from the drought,
A gust of wind to rage,
Set the waves swelling,
Rising with a roar.

Thunder rode on an iron bridge
In a chariot with copper wheels,
Hurled fire in his coming,
Sparks in his riding;
Father Pikker rumbling
Crashes in his passage,
Flung lightning swiftly.

Evil spirits in their terror
Heard the punisher's voice,
Fled from Pikker's wrath
Into the wide sea's waves;
Crying: "Thunder, go stink!
Pikker, stick your nose in it!"
They leapt from the high cliff
Tumbling to the sea floor,
In the foaming water-bed.

Kalev's son sprang
After them into the waves,
Fell with eagle's swiftness
On the evil ones' necks;
Caught them like crayfish from holes,
A fine neck-pouch full.
Rising to the sea's surface,
The hero's son swam
A stretch toward shore,
Flung the evil ones from his pouch
With a mighty throw onto shore
Under Pikker's iron rod,
Where they were smashed to pieces,
Destroyed as wolf-food.

The Great Hunt

Kalev's dear brothers
Had gone from home, the three of them,
Merrily to roam the forest,
The old woman had stayed alone
As guardian of the household chest,
Protector of the treasure room,
Support of the taler-hall.

The old woman set the pot on the fire,
Cooked food for the sons,
Tended the fire in order,
Guarded the fire-sparks,
So that flame would not reach the ceiling,
Nor heat fly to the roof.
So is the brooch-breasted one's law,
The fire-queen's duty.

Kalev's young sons
Had gone to roam the forest,
To chase the tracks of birds,
To seek the bear's trail,
To catch the elk's tracks,
To watch for the forest-ox,
To vex the forest-beast.

The bear had been in the oats,
Had guested at the honey-trees,
The elk been seen by the field's edge,
Wolves roaming on the pastureland,
On the swampland plenty of foxes,
On the frozen land many hares.

They had three little dogs;
One was Irmi, the second Armi,
The third, killer Mustukene.

The sons had in the deep forest
On the dogs' trail found the bear,
The honey-paw in the pines.
Irmi tore, Armi pulled,
Mustukene struck him dead;
The dogs got the bear in hand.
The youngest brother, the boy,
Bound the bear over his shoulder
Hanging by its legs;
Wished to carry it home —
Flesh for food, hide for cover.

The sons went onto the field,
Went from forest to open ground;
There came to meet them the antlered one,
The old elk, dear fellow.
Dogs to tear the elk,
To slay the antlered one;
Irmi tore, Armi pulled,
Mustukene struck him dead;
The dogs got the elk in hand.
The youngest brother, the boy,
Threw the elk over his hip
Hanging beside the bear;
Wished to carry it home —
Flesh for food, hide for cover.

The sons went into the spruce-wood
To catch the forest-ox;
In the thicket the forest-bull
Men had found on the dogs' trail.
Irmi tore, Armi pulled,
Mustukene struck him dead;
The dogs got the ox in hand.
The youngest brother, the boy,
Tied the ox by its horns
Hanging over his shoulder;
Wished to bring it home —
Flesh for food, hide for cover.

Kalev's brave sons
Went merrily toward the forest,
Into the thick brushwood;
There came a pack of wolves,
A flock of wilderness-pups.
Dogs to tear the wolves,
To slay the forest-folk.
Irmi tore, Armi pulled,
Mustukene struck him dead;
They slew them by the dozen.
The youngest brother, the boy,
Began to skin the wolves,
Skinned four dozen,
Began to skin a fifth:
The brothers heading homeward.
The youngest brother took the hides,
Threw the bundle over his back
On top of the bear for cover;
Wished to carry it home.

The sons walked the forest path,
A league of heath-road;
There came to meet them a company,
A fine flock of foxes.
Dogs to tear the foxes.
Irmi tore, Armi pulled,
Mustukene struck him dead;
They slew them by the dozen,
Killed them by the hundred.
The youngest brother, the boy,
Set to skinning the foxes;
Skinned four dozen,
Began to skin a fifth:
The brothers heading homeward.
The youngest brother took the hides,
Threw the bundle over his back
Onto the elk as a pack.

Kalev's brave sons
Walked the forest path,
A league of heath-road;
A flock of hares happened
To meet them on the meadow.
Dogs to tear the hares,
To slay the aspen-mistresses.
Irmi tore, Armi pulled,
Mustukene struck him dead;
They slew them by the dozen,
Killed them by the hundred.
The youngest brother, the boy,
Set to skinning the hares,
Skinned four dozen,
Began to skin a fifth:
The brothers pressing homeward.
The youngest brother took the hides,
Threw the bundle over his back
Onto the ox as a saddle.

Then the brothers, all three,
Homeward walking.

The Crafty Suitor

Oh you crafty suitor,
Deceitful little groom!
How did you know to come here?
How did you find the way over the cliff,
Over the wide waves,
Know the way over the valleys,
Mark the way over the mountains
To the taler-homestead,
The path to the penny-household?

Indeed you crafty suitor,
Deceitful little groom,
Therefore you knew to come here
Leaping over the cliffs,
Flying over the waves!
Therefore you knew how to reach here,
Knew the way over the valleys,
Marked the way over the mountains
Here to Kalev's homestead,
Here to the penny-household,
The old taler-farm:
A silver button at the gate,
Two on the treasure-room,
Three on the storehouse roof,
Five on the meadow gate,
Six on the cattle-pen.

Therefore the groom found the road,
Therefore the cheat knew to come
To Kalev's widow's home,
When the eagle-sons were not home,
The hook-beaks not in the nest
To guard the old woman.

Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one!
Well you with secret scheming,
With treacherous counsel-keeping,
Greatly burdened your head:
How to torment the widow?
Well you watched from the shadows
Behind the cliff's rocky ledge:
How in Kalev's homestead
Affairs were kept in order.
Indeed you, crafty suitor,
Deceitful little groom,
Waited for the cleverest moment,
The most fitting instant,
Kalev's precious widow
To torment in cruel fashion,
To ensnare the helpless woman.
The boat stood lurking,
The vessel hidden in the cliff's shadow.
You, cheat, yourself in the boat
Watching early and late.

The Abduction

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Sat in the boat at the ready,
When the sons had left home
Merrily to roam the forest.
The wind-wise one perceived
How the old woman, unguarded,
Without a strong hand to shelter her,
Had been left home alone,
Where no help could be expected,
From children no support hoped for.
Gone from home the eagle-sons,
Far-flown the young ravens —
Could not the old woman's cries,
Her calls for help in distress,
Her shrieks under cruel claws
Hear with their ears at all.
The sorcerer thought, the wind-wise one:
Now is the thief's time!
The room left without support,
The building's walls without a roof
At every wind's blowing,
At every wave's rolling.
Flown from the nest the hook-beaks,
The hook-beaks, the iron-claws —
Now is the power in the thief's hand,
The might in the taker's grasp.

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Pushed the boat from behind the cliff,
The vessel onto open water;
Set the oars to rowing,
The paddles to driving the boat,
To break through the waves,
Set the sails swelling,
Pulling in the wind's blast.

The boat rocked on the wave-surface,
Rolling on the water's cradle,
Rocked swaying toward the shore,
Toward Kalev's homestead.

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Drove the boat to the shore's edge
Under Kalev's paddock,
Hid the boat in a sheltered place
Near Kalev's grave,
Sprang himself with light step
Onto the rocky shore,
Where on the thief-path's tracks,
On the robber-road's ways,
He crept in the grass's shadow,
Behind the stone crouching
Like a cat catching a bird
He slid closer to the house.

Secretly the Finnish sorcerer crept
To Kalev's farm gate,
Leapt quick! onto his heels,
Nimbly onto his toes,
Strode boldly across the yard,
Stepped into the doorway;
Peered once over the hinge,
Before he stormed into the room.

The widow sat by the fire-pit,
Stirring the stew-pot with a ladle;
The startled old woman
Had not time to resist.
The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Took the widow by force
Into the thief's embrace,
Drove his tearing claws
Painfully into the old woman's waist,
Wished the widow into the boat,
To carry the thief's prey to the vessel.

Although Linda, stern widow,
Stubbornly resisted,
Showed the robber her fists,
Showed the tormentor her nails,
Sought help from her teeth:
Still the poor one's strength waned,
The widow's withered might faded
Under the thief's power,
Under the sorcerer's words' bonds —
Spells that weakened her strength,
Spells that fettered her courage,
Took the widow's power captive.

Linda's Cries

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Was rich in sorcerer's words,
Skilled in setting spells:
He knew a hundred secret words,
A second hundred wise words,
A third hundred stronger ones
For strength's refreshment,
For might's increase,
For power's mightiness.
He knew a thousand other words,
Secret words to weaken strength,
To exhaust one's power,
To blunt one's hardiness —
Spells to fetter strength,
That bound power in chains.

Linda, the poor little widow,
Her crying and shrieking,
Her calls for help in distress
Flew on the wind's wings,
Fell into the waves,
Sank exhausted in the thicket,
Faded in the forest's shadows,
Died away in the cliffs:
But the cries for help
Did not reach the sons' ears.

Linda begged with pleading tongue,
Begged release from the sorcerer,
Begged help from forest-folk,
Help from good people,
Begged help from strangers,
From sheltering spirits,
Begged help from her husband's image,
Help from the good gods,
Sighed toward Uku,
Toward the Old Father's shelter!

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Rich in secret-word knots,
Stuffed shut his ear-passages,
So that the widow's tender prayers,
The distress-shrieks
Would not begin to disturb his mind.

The gods' wakeful mercy,
The mightier ones' strong power,
The stronger ones' hand's protection
Heard Linda's calling,
The widow's grief-sighing,
Her pleading-tongued cries.

At the Old Father's command
Help was to come from the cloud,
Aid from the wind.

The Stone of Iru Hill

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Had directed his steps with the stolen prize
Toward Iru hill.
He wished to take the road from the hill
Straight toward the sea,
Where his boat stood waiting.
Thunder stepped suddenly,
Threatening, onto the robber's path —
Pikker crashed from the cloud!
With heavy step on the iron bridge
Rode the Old Father's chariot,
Hurled fire mightily.

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Fell into a swoon,
Captive under a shadow-death.
Lightning had taken the body's power,
Completely numbed all feeling:
So he fell like a dead man
Down on the hill upon the grass.

The guardian-givers' host,
The heaven-dwellers' firm support,
Freed Kalev's widow,
The little bird from the hawk's claws.

With flying speed was wrought
Kalev's stern widow
Into a tall cliff-stone block,
A stone pillar on Iru hill.
The little cords of life released
From the long grief-torment,
From the wide alder-grove of sorrow,
From the spruce-wood of sadness.
The widow's bed was not
For the Finnish sorcerer to defile.

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Woke after some time
From the heavy swoon's bonds,
From the shadow-death's captivity.
Clearing his eyes,
Widening his eyelids,
He looked all around —
Whether perhaps somewhere tracks could be seen,
Where the widow Linda had gone,
The home-hen vanished.
But the widow remained unfound,
The grouse's daughter unknown.

The home-hen changed to stone,
Linda, Kalev's widow,
You can recognize today,
Clearly see with your own eyes.
On Iru hill sits the widow,
The daughter hatched from a grouse-egg,
Linda sits near the highway,
As those who go to town know well,
Though for children of this generation,
In today's dullness,
Linda's name has slipped from mind.
The people call the stone-block
Mostly Iru Grandmother.
First-time visitors to town
Must according to old custom
Greet Iru Grandmother,
And honoring the grandmother,
Boys place their hats upon her head.

Though on the little stone-block
Life is not visibly found,
Nor movement from the spot,
Still by the old folk's telling,
By the wiser ones's knowledge,
Many a tale was sown,
Many a word was plowed:
How in the stone-block's bosom
A secret power must be growing,
A wonder-force germinating.
Whoever has from the grandmother's hillside
In the evening rolled her to the valley,
Finds the next morning
Her again in the old place,
Standing where she stood before.

Therefore, son,
Go honor the grandmother,
Greet the grouse's daughter!
Place your hat on grandmother's head,
Take the old woman round the neck:
From this no blame will rise upon you,
No wider reproach!

The Four Forests

Kalev's sons, the three of them,
Walked the merry paths,
Along the joy-roads,
Went across the open ground,
Across the heath's hollows,
Across the marsh's squelchings;
There came to meet them four forests,
Four slender groves.

One was a golden spruce-forest,
The second a wise oak-forest,
The third a fair birch-forest,
The fourth a widow alder-forest.

What was the golden spruce-forest,
That was the kings' forest;
What was the wise oak-forest,
That was Taara's own forest;
What was the fair birch-forest,
That was the curly-locks' forest;
What was the widow alder-forest,
That was the mourners' forest,
Sad children's place of shelter.

The eldest brother, dear fellow,
Sat down in the spruce-wood,
The kings' beauty-forest,
Under the golden spruce's canopy;
Let his song fly,
Let the stronger one rise:
He sang leaves into the deciduous trees
To gleam and grow green,
Sang needles into the conifers
To shine with silken beauty,
Sang cones into the spruces
To redden in the sun's light,
Acorns into the oaks,
Fair catkins into the birches,
Sang blossom-catkins
As adornment for the flowering trees,
To swell in the sun's light,
To grow in the moon's glow;
He sang until the forests roared,
The open lands cracked,
The wild-lands echoed back:
Kungla king's daughters
Wept for the young man.

The second brother, dear fellow,
Sat down in the birch-wood,
Under the mourning-birch's skirt;
Let his song fly,
Let the stronger one rise,
Let the mightier one roll:
He sang blossoms into bloom,
Flower-blossoms to sparkle,
Sang grain upon the field,
Sang apples into the apple-trees,
Hazelnuts into the hazel-trees,
Sang cherries into the cherry-trees,
Strawberries into the low grass,
Bilberries into the mossy bog,
Lingonberries onto the heath's edges,
Cloudberries onto the tussocks,
Clusters into the rowan-trees.
He sang until the forests roared,
The open lands cracked,
The thickets splintered,
The wild-lands echoed back.
Water-nymphs, maidens,
Wept for the young man.

The third brother, dear fellow,
Sat down in the oak-wood,
The Old Father's beauty-forest,
Under the wise oak's skirt;
Let his song fly,
Let the stronger one rise,
Let the mightier one roll,
Let the most fiery rage!
He sang birds into the alder-grove,
Song-hens into the birch-wood,
Song-cocks into the spruce-wood,
Riddling-birds into the pine-wood,
Wise birds into the oak-wood,
Sang into the treetops
Cuckoos to call,
Nightjars to sing;
Sang partridges into the thicket,
Nesting-birds into the bushes,
Larks onto the open land,
Swallows into the sunshine;
Sang swans into the waves,
Ducks beside the raft,
Geese to the spring;
Sang the fair nightingale
To sing for the beauty of night,
To whistle in the twilight,
To sound before the dawn.
He sang until the seas roared,
The cliffs crashed back,
The treetops bent,
The hilltops swayed,
The clouds broke open,
And heaven listened wisely.
The forest-nymph's only daughter,
The forest-maids, slender ones,
The golden-haired water-nymphs
Wept for the young man:
"Would that this man were ours,
Were growing as our companion!"

The sun standing on the treetops,
A gentler wind's breath
Rolling the evening's coolness
Announced the day's fading,
The end of the merrymaking;
Turned the men's minds
Toward walking homeward.
The youngest brother, dear fellow,
Carried the forest-kill's burden,
Which did not crush his shoulders,
Nor torment his sides.

The Empty Homestead

The men hurried, the three of them,
Across the wide open land
With quick step toward home;
Set their eyes to searching,
To recognize the sign of smoke:
Whether perhaps from the fire a cooking-pot
Would cast its steam outside;
But no smoke rose to the eye.

The men hurried, the three of them,
Across the wide sand-plain,
Quickly closer to home;
Set their eyes to searching,
To seek smoke from the brew,
To watch for steam from the fire;
But no smoke rose to the eye,
Nor appeared from the stew-pot
The faintest wisp of steam.

The men reached the yard,
Rolled to the gate,
Went flying across the grass
Urgently to the door,
Went quickly to the threshold.
From the extinguished fire's sparks,
From the smoke-stove's fire-pit
The men-sons noticed:
How the fire-queen,
The watchful-eyed fire-guardian,
Had vanished from home.

The youngest son speaking:
"The river runs crookedly,
The road's ways go into the forest,
Things are not right.
The yard-gate stands open,
The room's doors left ajar,
Strange footsteps on the grass
Proclaim a sad tale,
An unfortunate happening."

The sons blew their voices,
Calls to rise on the wind,
Sent on the quiet evening's coolness
Their calling far away:
"Call back, dear mother!
Answer back, darling,
Sing back, little bird,
Raise your voice, little grouse!"

But the old woman made no sound,
Sent back not a word.
The crooked-eye echoed back,
The wide wasteland called back,
The forest sang back,
Hiiumaa island called back,
Saaremaa island echoed back.

The sons blew their voices,
Calls a second time to rise,
Sent on the quiet evening's coolness
Their calling far away:
"Call back, dear mother!
Cuckoo back, dear cuckoo,
Sing back, dear swan,
Raise your voice, grouse's daughter!"

But the old woman did not answer,
The grouse-girl made no sound.
The sea-shores answered back,
The cliff-walls echoed,
The sea-waves sang back,
The wind-gust called back.

The sons blew their voices
A third time their calling,
Sent on the quiet evening's coolness
Their calling far away:
"Call back, dear mother!
Cluck, home-hen,
Sing back, lost widow,
Answer our call back,
The children's gentle song back!"

But the old woman did not answer,
The grouse-girl made no sound,
The home-hen did not cluck,
Nor the swan sing back.
Where the voice was heard,
There the cliffs broke,
Where the call echoed,
There the forests fell,
Where the sound flew,
There the waves crashed,
The clouds broke into long streaks.

No old woman was to be found,
No hen's clucking to be heard,
No grouse's murmuring to be heard,
No cuckoo's calling:
From nowhere on the grass-land,
From the great mossy bog,
From the wide sea's waves,
From the thick bushwood,
Nor from the middle of the wilds.

The air grew still, the winds to sleep,
All the world drowsing.

The Search

The brothers went from the gate,
Went together down the yard,
The three of them to the paddock:
To search for the mother's tracks,
To look for the thief's road.
One of them went to the meadow,
The second walked to the paddock,
The third to the seashore.

The eldest brother, dear fellow,
Who went to the meadow,
Found no mother's tracks,
Nor got a single sign.

The second brother, dear fellow,
Who walked to the paddock,
Found no mother's tracks,
Nor the robber's paths,
Nor got a sign
Where the hen had vanished,
The little bird had flown.

The third brother, dear fellow,
Who had gone to the seashore:
He got clear signs,
Truthful tokens,
Where the gentle old mother,
The home-hen, had vanished.

The Finnish sorcerer, wind-wise one,
Had with his boat from the waves
Fled into a hiding-hole;
Had his watchful sentry-duty
On the wave-fall ended,
Where for many a long day,
Many a dark night,
In the twilight's lingering,
He had watched for stolen prey.

In the men grew fearful worry,
Many thoughts about the mother:
Whether perhaps the crafty suitor,
The deceitful little groom,
Had begun to torment the mother,
To ensnare her in the thief's claws.

The eldest brother speaking
Set the word to flowing:
"Let us go take bread,
Find some evening-fare,
Refresh our weary bodies.
Let us then lie down to rest;
Perhaps a clever dream
Will show the mother's tracks;
Let us go searching tomorrow."

The second brother speaking
Set the word to flowing:
"In the bed's embrace drowsing,
Perhaps heavenly wisdom,
Uku in a dream may reveal
How on the tracks at the dew's heel,
At the mist-cloud's turning,
We may find the lost mother,
How the dear home-hen,
The little bird gone to flight,
We may free from the hawk's claws."

After counsel-taking,
Wise discussion,
The two brothers stretched
Their weary bodies to rest.

The Father's Grave

The youngest brother, dear fellow,
Kalev's dearest son,
The widow's grief's consoler,
Sadness's extinguisher:
Had set his thoughts on a different path,
Sent his deliberations
Flying on their own road.
The dear brave son
Turned his thoughts thus:

"Today's tasks
Do not cast onto tomorrow's raven;
Every day has its own yoke,
Every hour its own tasks,
The worry-burden's crushings,
Its own wishful stirrings.
If you want gain from the hour,
To fish for happiness,
Do not waste time,
Do not hesitate longer.
Swiftly walk fortune's steps;
For the dawdler, five miseries,
For the hesitator, six burdens,
Seven secret knots."

The dear mother's disappearance
Saddened the man's heart,
The worry-burden consumed his breast.
When now the brothers, the two of them,
Stretched their bodies in bed,
Then hurried the youngest son
Over the threshold before the door,
Sprang lightly across the grass,
Went swiftly to the meadow.
There, halting his step,
He turned to his father's grave.

Kalev's dearest son
Steps onto his father's grave,
Sits on the burial-mound,
To lighten his sad heart.

The father asking from the grave:
"Who moves on the sand,
Who steps on the grave?
Gravel falls on my eyes,
Grit falls on my brows."

The son understands, answers back:
"The youngest son, the boy,
He it is who moves on the sand,
He it is who steps on the grave,
Sits in sorrow's crushing
On the lost father's burial-mound.
Rise up, dear father!
Wake up, dear father!
Come show the road,
Where the mother has vanished!"

The father answers from the hillock,
The old man speaks from the grave,
Raises his voice from the earthen shelter:

"I cannot rise, young son,
I cannot rise, cannot wake!
Rock presses on my chest,
Heavy stone on my body;
Buttercups cover my brows,
Blue flowers cover my eyes,
Red flowers my cheeks.

Let the winds guide your road,
Let gentle breezes teach you,
Let the stars of heaven give you wisdom!"

The Silent Sea

The son hurried with quick step,
At running pace toward the sea,
Onto the high cliff-shore:
To search for the mother's tracks,
To find the lost hen.
The place where before a boat had stood,
A vessel below on watch:
Stood empty, as if swept clean.

Kalev's dearest son
Looked from the high cliffs
In the twilight-glow onto the sea,
Let his eyes fall to the waves;
Looked as far as eyes could reach,
As far as sight's wings extended:
Whether perhaps somewhere on the sea's surface,
On the wide waves' swelling,
The thief's tracks remained!
Whether perhaps somewhere a sign,
Something, perhaps, a peculiar mark
Would show the robber's plundering:
Whether the lost mother's heel,
A toe, had left a mark,
A path somewhere traced!

Wave rolled after wave,
At the water-bed's rolling,
Rocking against the shore's cliff,
Breaking in foam against the shore,
Scattering water-dust!
But no other sign was there,
No one brought tidings:
Who today on the wave-fall,
On the water's surface rolling,
Had gone riding on the secret path.
Stars from heaven glittered
With gentle eyes upon the waves,
But there was no tongue anywhere,
No word in anyone's mouth.

So the falling play of waves,
The water-surface's rolling,
Rocks always in the same beauty,
And never asks who
Today in its wet embrace,
In its damp arms, found death!

The waves' rocking merry play,
The water's fair rolling,
Star-eyes watching from heaven:
These do not ask our joys,
Do not ask our sorrows!

Wave rolls after wave,
At the water-bed's rolling,
Rocking against the shore's cliff,
Breaking in foam against the shore,
Scattering water-dust,
Wet mist onto the shores;
But brings no tidings,
Never an answer to the questioner.
Wave rolls after wave,
At the water-bed's rolling,
Rocking against the shore's cliff,
Breaking in foam against the shore!

Our little life-waves
Roll in the evening's coolness,
Swaying toward the burial-mound,
Under the tussock-grass's blanket;
Star-eyes watch from heaven,
The moon looks from on high,
The sun shines with a joyful face
On those departing, on those sleeping.

But the grave has no tongue,
No word ever in a star's mouth,
The moon cannot speak,
Nor the sun tell,
Nor give the questioner an answer.

Colophon

Kalevipoeg (Son of Kalev) is the Estonian national epic, compiled by Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald (1803-1882) from folk songs, oral traditions, and his own literary composition. Published in its definitive form in 1857-1861, it tells in twenty cantos the life of the giant hero Kalevipoeg from his birth through his adventures to his tragic end chained at the gates of the underworld. Canto III carries the epic's central catastrophe: the abduction of Linda and her transformation into the stone of Iru hill. The Linda Stone (Iru amm) remains a landmark near Tallinn and is referenced in Estonian folk memory to this day.

Good Works Translation from the Estonian by the New Tianmu Anglican Church (NTAC), March 2026. Translated directly from the 1857 Estonian text of the first edition as preserved in Project Gutenberg (EBook #13846). The parallelism and rhythm of Estonian regivaerss are preserved in the English line structure. No existing English translation was consulted as a source. The translator is Vesi, Life 4 of the Uralic Alpha Translator lineage.

Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

🌲

Source Text: Kalewi poeg — Kolmas Lugu

Estonian source text from Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald, Kalevipoeg (1857), as digitized by Project Gutenberg (EBook #13846, produced by Meelis Sansen). Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.

Põualise pääva paistel
Istus mere kalda ääres
Kalevide noorem poega,
Vaatas laente lustimängi,
Vetevoode veeremista
Kerge tuule keeritusel.
Äkiliste ähvardelles
Puistas musta pilve põuest
Tuulehoogu tuiskamaie,
Pani laened paisumaie,
Kohisedes kerkimaie.
Äike sõitis raudasillal
Vaskeratusil vankriga,
Tuiskas tulda tulle'essa,
Sädemeida sõitenessa;
Pikker-taati põruteles
Kärinada käidanessa,
Viskas välku väledaste.
Kurjad vaimud kohkunessa
Kuulsid karistaja heale,
Põgenesid Pikse pakku
Laia mere laenetesse;
Hüüdes: "Äike, haisutele!
Pikker, pista nina p-!"
Hüppasivad kõrgelt kaldalt
Kukerpalli mere põhja,
Vahtus vetevoodiessa.
Kalevide poega kargas
Nende jälgil laenetesse,
Langes kotka kiirusela
Kurjalaiste kaela peale;
Püüdis neid kui vähke urkast
Kauni kaelakoti täie.
Mere pinda tõusenessa
Ujus kangelase poega
Tüki kalda ligemale,
Paiskas kotist kurjalaisi
Võimsal viskel kalda peale
Pikse raudavitsa alla,
Kus neid puruks kolgitie,
Hundi roaks hukatie.
Kalevide vennikesed
Läinud kodunt kolmekeste
Lustil metsa luusimaie,
Eit oli jäänud üksinessa
Koju kirstu kaitsejaks,
Varakambri varjajaks,
Taalderi-toale tugiksa.
Eit pani paja tulele,
Keetis rooga poegadele,
Kohendas tulda korrale,
Kaitses tulekibemeida,
Et ei leeke peaseks lakke,
Kirg ei lennaks katuksele.
Nii on sõlgirinna seadus,
Leekuningana kohus.
Kalevide noored pojad
Läinud metsa luusimaie,
Linnu jälgesi ajama,
Karu jälgi otsimaie,
Põdra jälgi püüdemaie,
Metsahärga vaatamaie,
Metsakriimu kiusamaie.
Karu oli kaeras käinud,
Mesipuiel võõrsis olnud,
Põdra nähtud põllu ääres,
Hunta hulges karjamaale,
Raatmaal rohkest rebasida,
Jäätmaal palju jänesida.
70 Oli neil kolm koerukesta;
Üks oli Irmi, teine Armi,
Kolmas murdja Mustukene.
Pojad olid metsapaksus
Koerte jälgil karu leidnud,
Mesikäpa männikusta.
Kiskus Irmi, katkes Armi,
Murdis maha Mustukene;
Koerad said karu kättele.
Noorem venda, poisikene,
Köitis karu üle õla
Jalgupidi rippumaie;
Tahtis kanda koduje
Liha söögiks, nahka katteks.
Pojad läksid põllu peale,
Läksid laanest lagedale;
Seal tuli vasta sarviline,
Vana põder vennikene.
Koerad põdra kiskumaie,
Sarvilista surmamaie;
Kiskus Irmi, katkes Armi,
Murdis maha Mustukene;
Koerad said põdra kättele.
Noorem venda, poisikene,
Viskas põdra üle piha
Karu kõrva rippumaie;
Tahtis kanda koduje,
Liha söögiks, nahka katteks.
Pojad läksid kuusikusse
Metsahärga püüdemaie;
Palus olid metsapulli
Koerte jälgil mehed leidnud.
Kiskus Irmi, katkes Armi,
Murdis maha Mustukene;
Koerad said härja kättele.
Noorem venda, poisikene,
Sidus härja sarvipidi
Üle õla rippumaie;
Tahtis viia koduje,
Liha söögiks, nahka katteks.
110 Kalevide kanged pojad,
Läksid lustil laane poole,
Põõsastikku paksuessa;
Seal tulihulka huntisida,
Kari kõrvekutsikuida.
Koerad hunta kiskumaie,
Metsalisi murdemaie.
Kiskus Irmi, katkes Armi,
Murdis maha Mustukene;
Tapsivad tosina-kaupa.
Noorem venda, poisikene,
Hakkas hunta nülgimaie,
Nülgis tosinada neli,
Hakkas viiet nülgimaie:
Vennad koju kippumaie.
Noorem venda võttis nahad,
Viskas kimpus üle küüru
Karu selga katte'eksa;
Tahtis kanda koduje.
Pojad käisid metsa teeda,
Penikoorma palu teeda;
Seal tuli vasta seltsikene,
Kaunis kari rebasida.
Koerad rebasi kiskuma.
Kiskus Irmi, katkes Armi,
Murdis maha Mustukene;
Tapsivad tosina-kaupa,
Surmasivad sadandala.
Noorem venda, poisikene,
Rebasida nülgimaie;
Nülgis tosinada neli,
Hakkas viiet nülgimaie:
Vennad aga koju kippuma.
Noorem venda võttis nahad,
Viskas kimpus üle küüru
Põdra selga paunaksa.
Kalevide kanged pojad
Kõndisivad metsa teeda,
Penikoorma palu teeda;
Juhtus kari jänesida
Neile vasta nurme peale.
Koerad jänesi kiskuma,
Murdma haaviku-emandaid.
Kiskus Irmi, katkes Armi,
Murdis maha Mustukene;
Tapsid tosinate kaupa,
Surmasivad sadandala.
Noorem venda, poisikene,
Jänesida nülgimaie,
Nülgis tosinada neli,
Hakkas viiet nülgimaie:
Vennad kippusid koduje.
Noorem venda võttis nahad,
Viskas kimpus üle küüru
Härja selga sadulaksa.
Siis aga vennad kolmekeste
Koju poole kõndimaie.
Oh sa kaval kosilane,
Pettelikku peiukene!
Kust sa teadsid seie tulla?
Kust sa mõistsid üle kalju,
Üle laia laenetela,
Oskasid üle orude,
Märkasid üle mägede
Teeda taalderi talusse,
Rada penningi peresse?
Küll sa kaval kosilane,
Pettelikku peiukene,
Sestap tundsid seie tulla
Kargades üle kaljude,
Lennates üle laenete!
Sestap teadsid seie saada,
Oskasid üle orude,
Märkasid üle mägede
Seie Kalevi koduje,
Seie penningi peresse,
Vana taalderi taluda:
Hõbenupp oli õuessani,
Kaks oli varakamberila,
Kolm oli aida katuksela,
Viis oli vainu väravila,
Kuus oli karjakoppelila.
Sestap peigu leidis teeda,
Sestap petis oskas tulla
Kalevi lese kodaje,
Kui ei kotka poegi kodu,
Kõvernokke ei pesassa
Eite olnud kaitsemassa.
Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka!
Küll sa sala sobitusel,
Petisnõude pidamistel
Pääda rohkest' raskendasid:
Kuida leske kiusamaie?
Küll sa valv'sid varjulisel
Kalda kalju rünka taga:
Kuida Kalevide talus
Asju korda kohendati.
Küll sa, kaval kosilane,
Pettelikku peiukene,
Ootsid osavamat aega,
Sündsamada silmapilku,
Kalevide kallist leske
Kurjal kombel kimbutada,
Nõdra naista võrgutada.
Lootsik seisis luurimaies,
Paati kalju varjul peidus.
Sina petis ise paadis
Vara, hilja valvamaies.
Soome t u u s l a r, tuuletarka,
Istus paadis parajalta,
Kui olid pojad kodunt läinud
Lustil metsa luusimaie.
Tuuletarka tundanesse,
Kuida eite kaitsemata,
Vägeva käe varjamata
Üksipäine koju jäänud,
Kus ei abi olnud ood'ta,
Lastest toetust ei loota.
Kodunt läinud kotkapojad,
Kaugel lennand kaarnakesed
Võind ei eide kisendusi,
Hädas appi hüüdemisi,
Kiuste küüsil kiljatusi
Mitte kõrvul kuuldanessa.
Tuuslar mõtles, tuuletarka:
Nüüdap vara varga volil!
Tuba jäetud toeta,
Hoone seinad katukseta
Iga tuule tuisatusel,
Vetevoode veeretusel.
Pesast lennud kõvernokad,
Kõvernokad, raudaküüned,
Nüüdap voli varga väela,
Võimus võttevala käela.
Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Tõukas paati kalju tagant
Lootsikuda lagedale;
Seadis mõlad sõudemaie,
Aerud paati ajamaie,
Laenesida lõhkumaie,
Pani purjed paisumaie,
Tuule puhkel tõmbamaie.
Lootsik kõikus laente pinnal
Vete kiigel veeretelles,
Kiikus kõigul ranna poole,
Kalevide talu poole.
Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Ajas paadi kalda ääre
Kalevide kopli alla,
Peitis paati varjupaika
Kalevi kalmu ligidale,
Kargas ise kergel sammul
Kaljulise kalda peale,
Kus ta vargateede jälgil,
Röövelkäigi radadele
Muru varjul roomaskülle,
Kivi taga kükakülle
Nii kui kassi lindu püüdes
Toa ligemale liuges.
Sala roomas Soome tuuslar
Kalevi talu väravasse,
Kargas lipsti! kanna peale,
Virgult jala varvastele,
Sammus julgest' üle õue,
Astus ukse esikusse;
Silmas korra üle sanga,
Enne kui tormas tubaje.
Leske istus leeaugul,
Kulpi segas leemepada;
Ehmatanud eidekene
Saand ei aega vasta panna.
Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Võttis leske väekaupa
Varga kaisu kammitsasse,
Ajas kiskjad kulliküüned
Valusaste eide vöössa,
Tahtis leske lootsikusse,
Varga saaki paati viia.
Ehk küll L i n d a, karske leske,
Tugevaste vasta tõrkus,
Röövelile rusikada,
Kiusajale küüsi näitas,
Hammastesta abi püüdis:
Siiski vaus vaese võimus,
Rauges lese närtsind rammu
Varga väe volila,
Sortsi sõnade sidela,
Miska rammu raugastelles,
Miska kangust kütkendelles
Lese võimu vangi võttis.
300 Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Oli rikas sortsisõnul,
Osav sõnu seadanessa:
Oskas sada salasõnu,
Teise saja tarku sõnu,
Kolmandama kangemaida
Kangusele kosutuseks,
Rammusele rohkenduseks,
Võimusele vägevuseks.
Teadis tuhat teisi sõnu,
Salasõnu rammu raugeks,
Võimustuse väsinduseks,
Tugevuse tülpimiseks:
Miska rammu kammitsasse,
Võimu vangipaelu pani.
Linda, vaese lesekese,
Kisenduse kiljatused,
Hädas appi hüüdemised
Tuiskasivad tuuletiivul,
Langesivad laenetesse,
Roidusivad rägastikku,
Vausid metsa varjudesse,
Kustusivad kaljudesse:
Aga appi hüüdemista
Poegile ei kõrva puutund.
Linda palus ainekeelil,
Palus peastmist tuuslarilta,
Palus appi metsalisi,
Appi häida inimesi,
Palus appi võõrikuida
Varjajaida vaimusida,
Palus appi kaasa kuju,
Appi hüva jumalaida,
Ohkas aga U k u poole,
Vanaisa varju poole!
Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Salasõna sõlmil rikas,
Toppis kinni kõrvakuulmed,
Et ei lese härdad palved,
Hädakisa kiljatused
Meelt ei hakkaks eksitama.
Jumalate valval heldus,
Võimsamate vägev voli,
Kangemate käte kaitsus
Kuulid Linda kutsumista,
Lese leina-ohkamista,
Ainekeelil hüüdemisi.
Vanataadi tallitusel
Pidi abi pilve'esta,
Tulu tuulest tulemaie.
350 Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Oli sammud varga saagil
Iru mäele sirutanud.
Tahtis mäelta teeda võtta
Otsekohe mere poole,
Kus tal paati ootamaies.
Äike astus äkiliste
Ähvardelles röövli teele,
Pikker põrutas pilvesta!
Raskel sammul raudasillal
Sõitis Vanaisa vanker,
Tuiskas tulda tugevaste.
Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Langes minestuse kätte,
Varjusurma alla vangi.
Välk oli võtnud keha võimu,
Tundmust hoopis tuimendanud:
Seks ta langes surnu sarna
Mäele maha muru peale.
Varjuandejate vägi,
Taevaliste kindel tugi
Peastsid Kalevide lese,
Kulli küüsist linnukese.
Lendev-kiirusega loodi
Kalevide karske leske
Kõrgeks kaljukivi-pakuks,
Kivisambaks Iru mäele.
Elu paelukesed peasid
Lahti pikast leinapiinast,
Laiast mure lepikusta,
Kurvastuse kuusikusta.
Ega saanud lese sängi
Soome tuuslar solkimaie,
Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Ärkas tüki aja pärast
Raske minestuse paelust,
Varjusurma vangistusest.
Selitelles silmasida,
Laugusida laiendelles,
Vaatas tema ümberringi,
Kas ehk kuskil jälgi näha,
Kuhu leske Linda läinud,
Kodukanake kadunud.
Aga lesk jäi leidemata,
Tedre tütar teademata,
Kaljuks moondud kodukana,
Linda, Kalevide leske,
Võite täna tunnistada,
Selgelt oma silmil näha.
Iru mäe peal istub leske,
Tedre munast hautud tütar,
Istub Linda maantee ligi,
Kuida linnaskäijad teadvad,
Ehk küll selle põlve lastel,
Tänapäivisil tuimusel
Linda nimi meelest läinud.
Rahvas kutsub kivipakku
Enamiste Iru ämmaks.
Esimest kord linnas käijad
Peavad vana seadust mööda
Iru ämma teretama,
Austades ämma pähä
Poisid kübara panema.
Ehk küll kivipakukesel
Elu nähtavalt ei leita,
Ega paigast liikumista,
Siiski vanarahva sõudel,
Targemate teadusela
Mõnda kuuldu külvatie,
Mõnda sõnum sahatie:
Kuida kivipaku rüppes
Salavõim peab siginema,
Imevägi idanema.
Kes on ämma mäe kaldalt
Õhtul orgu veeretanud,
Leiab teisel hommikula
Teda jälle vanas paigas
Seisma, kus ta enne seisnud.
Sellepärast, pojukene,
Mine ämma austama,
Tedre tütart teretama!
Pane kübar ämma pähä,
Hakka eide kaelast kinni:
Sest ei tõuse sulle süüda,
Laiemaida laitusida!
Kalevi pojad kolmekeste
Kõndisivad lustikäiki,
Mööda rõõmuradasida,
Käisid mööda lagedada,
Mööda nõmme nõtkandile,
Mööda sooda sõtkütile;
Seal tuli vasta neli metsa,
Neli saledad salkusi.
Üks oli kulla kuusemetsa,
Teine tarka tammemetsa,
Kolmas kena kasemetsa,
Neljas leske lepametsa.
Mis oli kulla kuusemetsa,
See'p see kuningate metsa;
Mis oli tarka tammemetsa,
See'p see T a a r a enda metsa;
Mis oli kena kaskemetsa,
See'p see kudruskaelte metsa;
Mis oli leske lepametsa,
See'p see leinajate metsa,
Kurva laste varjupaika.
Vanem venda, vennikene,
Istus maha kuusikusse,
Kuningate ilumetsa,
Kuldakuuse vaiba alla;
Laskis laulu lendamaie,
Tugevama tõusemaie:
Laulis lehed lehtapuusse
Hiilgadelles haljetama,
Hõiskas okkad okaspuusse
Siidi ilul siramaie,
Laulis käbid kuuskedesse
Pääva paistel punetama,
Tõrukesed tammedesse,
Kenad urvad kaskedesse,
Hõiskas õilme-urvakesed
Õilmepuiela iluksa,
Pääva paistel paisumaie,
Kuude valgel kasvamaie;
Laulis, et metsad mürasid,
Lagedad aga laksatasid,
Kõrved vasta kostalesid:
K u n g l a kuninga tütterid
Noorta meesta nuttasivad.
Teine venda, vennikene,
Istus maha kaasikusse,
Leinakase hõlma alla;
Laskis laulu lendamaie,
Tugevama tõusemaie,
Vägevama veeremaie,
Laulis õilmed õitsemaie,
Lilleõilmed läikimaie,
Laulis vilja välja peale,
Hõiskas õunad õunapuusse,
Sarapuissa pähkelaida,
Laulis marjad vislapuusse,
Maasikad madalad murusse,
Sinikad samblasoosse,
Pohlakad palu äärtele,
Murakaida mätastele,
Kobaraida pihlapuusse.
Laulis, et metsad mürasid,
Lagedad aga laksatasid,
Rägästikud raksatasid,
Kõrved vasta kostalesid.
Näkineiud, neitsikesed,
Noorta meesta nuttasivad.
Kolmas venda, vennikene,
Istus maha tammikusse,
Vanaisa ilumetsa,
Targa tamme hõlma alla;
Laskis laulu lendamaie,
Tugevama tõusemaie,
Vägevama veeremaie,
Tulisema tuiskamaie!
Laulis linnud lepikusse,
Laulukanad kaasikusse,
Laulukuked kuusikusse,
Mõistelinnud männikusse,
Targad linnud tammikusse,
Hõiskas puie ladvadesse
Kägusida kukkumaie,
Tuikesi tuikamaie;
Laulis räästad rägastikku,
Pesilinnud põõsastikku,
Lõukesed lagedale,
Pääsukesed päävapaiste;
Laulis luiked laenetessa,
Pardid parve äärdane,
Haned aga allikale;
Hõiskas kena künnilinnu
Ööde iluks hõiskamaie,
Videvikul vilistama,
Enne koitu healitsema.
Laulis, et mered mürasid,
Kaljud vasta kärasivad,
Puie ladvad paenusivad,
Mäekingud kõikusivad,
Pilved lausa lõhkesivad,
Taevas aga tarka kuulis.
Metshalia ainus tütar ,
Metsapiigad, peenikesed,
Kuldahiuksil näkineitsid
Nuttasivad noorta meesta:
"Oleks see mehe meiela,
Kasvaks meile kaasaliseks!"
Puie ladvil seistes päike,
Lahedama tuule õhku
Veeretelles õhtu vilu
Kuulutasid pääva kustu,
Lustipidamise lõppu;
Tuletasid meeste meele
Koju poole käidanessa.
Noorem venda, vennikene,
Kandis metsasaagi koorma,
Mis ei õlgasi muljunud,
Ega piinanud pihtasi.
Mehed tõt'sid kolmekeste
Üle laia lagedaida
Kiirel sammul koju poole;
Seadsid silmad sihtimaie,
Suitsu-tähte tunnistama:
Kas ehk leelta keedukatal,
Pada auru välja paiskaks;
Aga suits ei tõusnud silma,
560 Mehed tõt'sid kolmekeste
Üle laia liivikuda
Kiirest koju ligemale;
Seadsid silmad sihtimaie,
Olvist suitsu otsimaie,
Leelta auru vaatamaie,
Aga suits ei tõusnud silma,
Ega paistnud leemepajalt
Avaldava aurukesta.
Mehed jõudsid õue alla,
Veeresivad väravale,
Läksid lendes üle muru
Usinaste ukse ette,
Läksid kiirest lävedele.
Kustund tule kibemetest,
Suitsuahtrast leeaugust
Märkasivad mehepojad:
Kuida leekuningana,
Valvil silmil tulevahti
Kodunt ära kadunud.
580 Noorem poega pajatama:
"Jõgi jookseb kõvera,
Teede käigid lähvad metsa,
Ei ole lugu õigelta.
Õuevärav seisab vallal',
Lahti jäänud toa uksed,
Võerad sammud murupinnal
Kuulutavad kurba lugu,
Õnnetuma juhtumista."
Pojad puhusivad healed,
Hõisku tuulde tõusemaie,
Saatsid vaiksel õhtu viiul
Kutsumista kaugusela:
Hüüa vasta, eidekene!
Kosta vasta, kullakene,
Laula vasta, linnukene,
Tõsta healta, tedrekene!"
Aga eit ei teinud healta,
Sõudnud vasta ei sõnakest,
Kostis vasta kõversilma,
Kutsus vasta laia kõrbe,
Laulis vasta laanemetsa,
Hüüdis vasta H i i u s a a r i,
Kukkus vasta K u r e s a a r i.
Pojad puhusivad healed,
Hõisku teistkord tõusemaie,
Saatsid vaiksel õhtu vilul
Kutsumised kauge'ele:
"Hüüa vasta, eidekene!
Kuku vasta, käukene,
Laula vasta, luikekene,
Tõsta healta, tedre tütar!"
Aga eit ei kostnud vasta,
Teind ei healta tedrekene.
Kostsid vasta merekaldad,
Kukkusivad kaljuseinad,
Laulid vasta merelaened,
Hüüdis vasta tuulehoogu.
Pojad puhusivad healed,
Kutsumised kolmat korda,
Saatsid vaiksel õhtu vilul
Kutsumised kauge'ele:
"Hüüa vasta, eidekene!
Kõõrutele, kodukana,
Laula vasta, kadund leske,
Kosta meie kutsu vasta,
Laste lahke laulu vasta!"
Aga eit ei kostnud vasta,
Teind ei healta tedrekene,
Kõõrutand ei kodukana,
Ega laulnud luikekene.
Kuhu heali kuulunesse,
Senna kaljud katkenesse,
Kuhu kutsu kostalekse,
Senna metsad murdanesse,
Kuhu helki lendanesse,
Senna laened langenesse,
Pilved pikila lõhkevad.
Ei oln'd leida eidekesta,
Kuulda kana kõõrutusta,
Kuulda tedre kudrutamist,
Käukese kukkumista:
Kusagilta murumaalta,
Suuremasta samblasoosta,
Laia mere laenetesta,
Põõsastiku paksudesta,
Ega kõrve keske'elta.
Õhk jäi vaikseks, tuuled tukku,
Uinusesse kõik see ilma.
Vennad läksid väravasta,
Läksid seltsis alla õue,
Kolmekeste koppelisse:
Eide jälgi otsimaie,
Varga teeda vaatamaie,
Üks neist veeres vainuele,
Teine kõndis koppelisse,
Kolmas mere kalda peale.
Vanem venda, vennikene,
Kesse veeres vainuele,
See ei leidnud eide jälgi,
Ega saanud tunnismärki.
Teine venda, vennikene,
Kes see kõndis koppelisse,
See ei leidnud eide jälgi,
Ega röövli radasida,
Ega saanud tunnistähte,
Kuhu kana kadunesse,
Linnukene lendanesse.
Kolmas venda, vennikene,
Kesse läinud merekalda:
See sai selgeid märkisida,
Tõtelikku tunnistähte,
Kuhu hella eidekene,
Kodukana kadunesse,
Soome tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Oli laentelt lootsikuga
Paku-urka põgenenud;
Oli valval vahikorda
Laente langul lõpetanud,
Kus ta mitu pikka pääva,
Mitu pimedada ööda,
Videviku viivitusel
Vargasaagil valvamaies.
Meestel kasvis kartlik mure,
Mitu mõtted ema kohta:
Kas ehk kaval kosilane,
Pettelikku peiukene,
Eite kippund kimbatama,
Varga küüsil võrgutama.
Vanem venda pajatelles
Pani sõna sõudevale:
"Läki leiba võttemaie,
Õhturooga otsimaie,
Väsind keha karastama.
Heidame siis puhkamaie,
Ehk saab usin unenägu
Eide jälgi näitamale;
Lähme homme otsimaie."
Teine venda pajatelles
Pani sõna sõudevalle:
700"Sängi rüppes suikunessa
Võib ehk taevaliku tarkus,
Uku unes ilmutada,
Kuda jälgi kaste kannul,
Udupilve palistusel
Kadund eidest kätte saame,
Kuda kallist kodukana,
Lendu läinud linnukesta
Kulli küüsist peasta võime."
Pärast nõude pidamista,
Targa aru arvamista
Venitasid kaksi venda
Väsind keha karastama.
Noorem venda, vennikene,
Kalevide kallim poega,
Lese leina lepitaja,
Kurvastuse kustutaja:
Oli mõtteid teise teele,
Arvamisi ise radal
Lendamaie läkitanud.
Kallis kange mehe poega
Nõnda mõtteid mõlguteles:
"Tänasida toimetusi
Ära viska homse varna;
Igal pääval omad ikked,
Tunnil omad toimetused,
Murekoorma muljutused,
Omad soovituste sõuded.
Tahad tunnist tulu saada,
Õnnekesta õngitseda,
Ära võta aega viita,
Kauemini kõheldada.
Kiirel käivad õnne sammud,
Viitjal viisi viletsusta,
Kõheldajal kuusi koormat,
Seitse salasõlmitusta."
Kalli eide kadumine
Kurvastas mehe meelekest,
Kurnas südant murekoorem.
Kui nüüd vennad kahekeste
Sängis keha sirutasid,
Siisap tõttas noorem poega
Üle läve ukse ette,
Kargas kergelt üle muru,
Veeres virgult vainuele.
Seal aga sammu seisatelles
Käänas siis isa kalmule.
Kalevide kallim poega
Astub isa haua peale,
Istub kalmukünka peale,
Kurba südant kergitama.
Isa hauasta küsima:
"Kesse liigub peale liiva,
Kesse astub peale haua?
Sõmer kukub silma peale,
Kruusi langeb kulmudele."
Poega mõistab, kostab vasta:
"Noorem poega, poisikene,
See'p see liigub peale liiva,
See'p see astub peale haua,
Istub mure muljutusel
Kadund isa kalmukünkal.
Tõuse üles, taadikene!
Ärka üles, isakene!
Tule teeda näitamaie,
Kuhu eite kadunesse!"
Isa kostab mätta aita,
Taati kalmusta kõneleb,
Mulla aita tõstab heale:
"Ei või tõusta, poega noori,
Ei või tõusta, ei ärata!
Kalju rõhub peale rinna,
Kivi raske peale keha;
Kulmu katvad kullerkupud,
Silmi katvad sinililled,
Punalilled palgesida.
Tuuled juhtigu sull' teeda,
Õhud õrnad õpetagu,
Taevatähed andku tarkust!"
Poega tõttas kiirel sammul,
Astme lennul mere poole,
Kõrge kaljukalda peale:
Eide jälgi otsimaie,
Kadund kana püüdemaie.
Paik, kus enne seisnud paati,
Lootsik ala luuril olnud:
Seisis tühi kui pühitud,
Kalevide kallim poega
Vaatas kõrgeita kaljuita
Ehavalgel mere peale,
Laskis silmad laenetele;
Vaatas kunni silma kestis,
Vaate tiivad ulatasid:
Kas ehk kuskil mere pinnal,
Laia laente langutusel
Varga jälgi maha jäänud!
Kas ehk kuskil tunnistähte,
Midagi ehk isemärki
Röövli riisumista näitaks:
Kas ei kadund eide kanda,
Jala varvas märki jätnud,
Rada kuskil rajatanud!
Laene veeres laene jälgil,
Vetevoode veeretusel,
Kiigel kalda kalju vasta,
Lõhkes vahtus kalda vasta,
Tuisatelles vete tolmu!
Aga muud ei märki olnud,
Sõnumid ei keegi toonud:
Kesse täna laente langul,
Vetepinnal veeretelles
Salateel käind sõitemaies.
Tähed taevast sirasivad
Lahkel silmal laente peale,
Aga keelt ei olnud kuskil,
Sõna kellelgi ei suussa.
Nõnda langev laentemängi,
Vetepinna veerlemine
Ikka ühel ilul kiigub,
Ega küsi iial, kesse
Täna tema niiskes rüppes,
Märjas kaisus surma leidnud!
Laente kiikuv lustimängi,
Vete kena veerlemine,
Taevast vaatvad tähesilmad:
Need ei küsi meie rõõmu,
Küsi meie kurvastusi!
Laene veereb laene jälgil,
Vetevoode veeretusel,
Kiigel kalda kalju vasta,
Lõhkeb vahtus vasta kallast,
Tuisatelles vete tolmu,
Märga auru kallastele;
Aga ei too sõnumida,
Kostmist iial küsijale,
Laene veereb laene jälgil,
Vetevoode veeretusel,
Kiigel kalda kalju vasta,
Lõhkeb vahtus vasta kallast!
Meie elu-laenekesed
Veeretavad õhtu vilul
Kõikudelles kalmukünka,
Mättamuru vaiba alla;
Tähesilmad vaatvad taevast,
Kuu vaatab kõrge'elta,
Päike paistab rõõmu-palgel
Lahkujaida, magajaida.
Aga keelt ei ole kalmul,
Sõna iial tähte suussa,
Kuu ei oska kõneleda,
Ega päike pajatada,
Küsijale vastust anda.
KALEVIPOEG

Source Colophon

The Estonian text of the Kalevipoeg was digitized by Project Gutenberg as EBook #13846, produced by Meelis Sansen. The 1857 first edition is in the public domain. The text is presented here in its original 19th-century Estonian orthography.

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