The Finnish Smith

Canto VI is the arming and the fall — the hero gets his sword and the sword gets its curse. Having woken from the dream of his dead mother (Canto V), Kalevipoeg decides to seek the famous Finnish smith to forge him a weapon worthy of his strength. He wanders three days in a dark forest, sleeps under a spruce and laments his orphaned state — father dead, mother vanished, brothers far away in Viru. On the second morning, birds call him westward and an old woman on the road gives him directions to the smith's hidden forge in a mountain valley.

At the forge, the smith recognizes Kalevipoeg as Kalev's son. Two rounds of swords shatter or bend under the hero's grip. Then the smith brings out the king of swords — forged for seven years from seven kinds of steel, hardened in seven Estonian waters from the Viru Sea to rainwater, with a hilt of white silver and a grip of pure gold. Old Kalev himself had ordered it, but died before it was finished. Kalevipoeg tests it on the anvil and the anvil splits in two. The sword is unblemished. He promises a fabulous price on credit — horses, cattle, grain, thalers, a third of a kingdom.

At the seven-day feast, the hop-spirit creeps into the ale and Kalevipoeg, drunk, boasts about his night with the island maiden (Canto IV). The smith's eldest son leaps up in fury — and Kalevipoeg kills him with the new sword. The smith pronounces the curse that will determine the hero's fate: "Rise, iron, to become a slayer! Grow, to be a neck-cutter!" This curse will be fulfilled in Canto XX when Kalevipoeg's own sword, sunk in a river, cuts off his legs. Drunk and blind, Kalevipoeg staggers away without seeing the father's grief or the mother's tears.

The canto closes with an interpolated folk tale — the Song of the Great Oak — in which a cosmic oak grows to cover the entire sky until a thumb-sized man, found under a haycock, grows to full stature and fells it. From the trunk is built the famous Finnish Bridge across the sea; from the crown, ships and towns; from the scraps, a poor man's sauna, a shelter for orphans, and a singer's chamber where the moon is the door and the stars dance in the room.

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 regivärss are preserved in the line structure. No existing English translation was consulted as a source.

Grief and Resolution

Kalevipoeg, the mighty man,
Stood a day in sorrow's bonds,
Two days in grief's fetters,
Mourning for his widowed mother;
On the third, before the dawn,
Early before the light,
He began to go homeward,
To wander toward the shore.

There came drifting on the wind
More pleasant little thoughts,
Awakened from the air
Cleverer considerations.

In Finland lived a famous smith,
A birth-giver of war-tools,
A maker of battle-weapons,
A master of the finest swords.

Kalevipoeg began to speak:
"Before going home
I should get myself a sword,
Fit a war-blade
Against my enemies."

Lost in the Forest

In the blink of an eye,
Setting himself upon another road,
He went across the open land,
Crossed the heatherland,
Strode through the mossy marsh,
Wandered through a stretch of bog.
There came against him a great forest,
A vast wildwood.

Strong Kalev's son
Got lost in the pine forest,
Lost a day, lost two,
Lost the third day
Searching for the right road.
Night came long and dark,
The sky starless and dim;
The man searched by luck alone,
Felt for the road by hand.

Kalev's dearest son
Fell beneath a broad spruce
At full length upon the grass,
Speaking in a bitter mood:

"All the golden ones go home now,
The silvery ones into their houses,
Others to a familiar farm;
My home is the grim forest,
My chamber amid the spruces,
The wide wildwood is my room,
In the wind is my fireplace,
In the rain my bathing-place,
In the mist my sleeping-place.

My father left the world already
Before I reached the day's light,
My mother fell to her deathbed
Escorted by secret rowers,
Without my eyes seeing,
Left me poor behind;
Brothers far away in Viru,
Others on the roads of Turkey.

I was left like a goose on the waves,
A duckling at the raft's edge,
An eagle on a high cliff,
Alone to live in the world."

The Birds and the Old Woman

At the second day's rising
Kalevipoeg went walking,
By good fortune's teaching
Searching again for the road.

A thrush called from the thicket,
A cuckoo called from the spruce-top,
A little bird from the alder grove:
"Turn toward the day's decline,
Roll toward the twilight!"

"Be well, you wise beaks,
Feathered advisors!"
Spoke Kalevipoeg.

He set his steps rowing
At the western turn to fly,
To tread on the evening wind.

Hurrying hastily
He escaped the forest's thicket,
Reached the wide open land.
Along the hilly country,
Along the rocky road
Kalev walked farther on.

There came toward him an old woman,
Came toward him with a limping foot,
Walking with a crutch's support.

The old woman began to throw words,
To row her words thus:
"Where are you going in such haste,
Dear son of Kalev?"

Kalev's dearest son
Understood at once, answered back:
"A pleasant thought came to my mind,
A good plan to my brain:
I wished to befriend the famous soot-face,
The Finnish smith,
I wished to bargain for a sword,
To go buy something precious.
Show me the way, good mother,
Tell me, dear old one,
Where I may find the smith's road,
The iron-hand's paths?"

The old woman understood at once,
Understood at once, answered back:
"Easily you can, dear lad,
Find the tracks without a guide.
Go through the wide wildwood,
Through the midst of a fine spruce grove,
Hasten to the river bank.
Walk a day, walk two,
Walk perhaps a third day yet;
Turn then toward the west,
You will find a hill on the open land,
A high knoll beside the road;
Go along the hill's edge,
Turn left from the knoll,
Then a river will meet you
On the right side of the road.
Walk along the river bank,
Where three waterfalls tumble;
Pass the waterfalls,
And at once you will see a fine valley.
In the midst of the fine valley,
In the hidden shade of trees,
Standing at the edge of a high mountain
In the cliff-gorge's cave —
The famous Finnish smith's house."

The Hidden Forge

Strong Kalev's son,
Hurrying the journey
By the old woman's guidance,
Passed through the wide wildwood,
Through the midst of a fine spruce grove,
Hastened to the river bank;
Walked a day, walked two,
Walked a stretch of the third day,
Turned directly westward,
Found the hill on the open land,
A high knoll beside the road,
Marched along the hill's edge,
Turned left from the knoll,
Hastening to the river bank;
Walked along the river bank,
Where three waterfalls tumbled.
The leagues shrank
Under the long stride's rowing.

At last a fine valley rolled
Into his traveling eyes.
Hurrying farther on,
The puff of bellows,
The heavy tremor of hammers
Clanking on anvils
Reached Kalev's ears from afar.

By the ear's hearing guided
Kalev's son stepped
With swifter strides
To befriend the Finnish smith.

In the midst of the fine valley,
In the hidden shade of trees,
Standing at the edge of a high mountain —
The famous Finnish smith's house.
Smoke gave secret signs,
Sparks gave clear tokens,
The bellows' puff speaking the word,
The iron's clatter saying even more:
That here smithwork was being done,
Hammer-work was being made.

The old famous Finnish smith,
The soot-black old fellow,
Strove with his three sons' company
To fashion smithwork,
To birth secret things.
The smith's sons, the journeymen,
Sooty as the old father,
Put blows upon the iron,
Swinging the hammers.

A bright-red sword blade —
Foreshadowing blood to come —
Groaned at times on the anvil
Under the hammers' pain,
Under the heavy hand's pressing,
In the clenching tongs' torment.
Therefore fire was pressed into it,
Forced into the bellows' mouth,
Softened, stretched,
Softened in the fire's glow,
Stretched to finer,
Hammered to stronger,
Tempered to harder,
Tested between quenchings,
Bent between the vise —
Whether from this a good sword would be born,
A useful blade-tool.

The Smith and the Hero

Kalevipoeg, the hero,
Stepped beneath the smith's threshold,
Called from the yard over the door,
Over the threshold with a clatter:

"Greetings, smith! Taara help you
In the doing of wise works,
In the birthing of secret things!"

"God's greeting, brother!"
Answered the Finnish iron-hand,
Lifting his cap from his crown.

Then he tried with the eye's sight
To recognize the newcomer,
With the mind's measure the man
To discern by his kin.
He watched the stranger from beneath his brow,
With squinting eye mockingly,
Watched from crown to toe,
From nape to heel,
Measured in his mind the man's size,
The lad's leg-length,
Estimated the shoulder-blades' breadth;

Then the iron-hand spoke:
"To one who greets in Taara's name,
Who speaks the help-word,
A place is given everywhere,
A resting-place in every household.
From afar you are, young eagle,
Come here on strong wings?
Surely you grew in a famous village,
Swelled in a fine nest,
A seedling of a wise farm,
A foster-child of the Kalev household?"

Kalev's son understood,
Cleverly answered back:
"Kin does not stray from its stock,
A shoot does not roll from its stump;
Every bird has its own song,
Its feather-coat by its kind:
The woodpecker speckled, the jackdaw black,
The grouse-chick red-crested,
The rooster-chick spurred,
Even the fish its kind's scales,
The crayfish its dark mud-coat.

Listen, smith, iron-hand,
Soot-black old fellow!
Have you a good sword to sell,
A sturdier blade-tool,
One that will not break in a man's hand?
Give me goods to test,
That I may measure the sword's strength,
Try out its sharpness!"

The Finnish smith answered:
"A buyer has the right to demand proof,
The right to test the goods.
Pig-trade doesn't happen in a sack,
Bride-trade not from behind the door,
Nor from pitch-darkness's hiding —
Like lame-horse trading,
Blind-eye exchanges.
Let the eye be clear in examining,
The hand nimble in testing,
Wisdom managing the matter:
Then no harm comes from the trade,
No danger ever in buying."

The Trial of the Blades

The Finnish smith, iron-hand,
At once commanded a journeyman,
Ordered the youngest son
To bring from the chamber for trial
Some of the finer swords.

The son fulfilled the father's command,
Hurried to bring goods from the chamber.
Then he brought swords by the armful,
Blade-tools by the lapful
For Kalevipoeg to test.

Kalev's dear son
Measured the sword's length,
Tested the blade's strength,
Tried the handle;
He tried to bend the blade —
Whether, when curved, it springs back
In a blink to straight again.

He took the handle in his fist,
Let the blade fly,
Whipping at the wind's speed,
Twirl a couple of times,
Then struck with a crack
The sword against a rock-block.
From the hard stone sparks flew,
Embers sizzling;
The blade crumbled to pieces,
Shards sprang far away,
The handle stayed in his fist.

"Tohu, tohu! What a strong hand!"
Cried the smith in wonder.

Strong Kalev's son
Answered with bared teeth:
"From trash you don't get a strong tool,
A shield against enemies!"

He took quickly a second sword,
Took a third in hand,
Let the blade fly,
Twirl a couple of times;
Then struck with a crack,
The precious iron in defiance,
The sword against the rock-block:
From the hard stone sparks flew,
Embers sizzling,
The blade crumbled to pieces,
Shards sprang far away,
The handle stayed in his fist.

The Finnish smith, iron-hand,
The soot-father spoke:
"Enough of that sport for now,
Enough testing!
I cannot bear to waste precious iron,
Finished battle-weapons,
Using them up as test-goods,
Giving a strong hand its playthings.

Go, son, light-foot!
Go quickly to the chamber,
Bring us swords more sturdy,
More solid for testing,
From which a strong man's hand
May find a worthy match."

The second son hurried swiftly
To fulfill the father's command;
He carried from the secret chamber
An armful of precious swords,
A lapful of war-tools
Of sturdier blade
For Kalev's son to test.

Kalev's dear son
Took the mightiest sword,
The sturdiest blade-tool
For his strong hand's play,
Let the blade fly,
Twirl a couple of times,
Then struck with a crack
The sword against the anvil.

The blade sank deep,
An inch thick into the anvil,
The sword itself stayed unbroken,
The blade unsplit,
But the blade showed dull,
Bent twice over.

The King of Swords

The Finnish smith began to speak,
With a smile thus saying:
"Wait, wait, lad,
Give it time, dear boy!
I shall find a sword from the chest,
A war-blade from the secret chamber
To match a great strength,
Worthy of a mighty force —
If you have gold aplenty in your pouch,
Silver for the ransom-price,
Riches equal to the sword's worth,
Gold gathered in the purse,
Thalers in the pockets,
Pennies in the bags.

This is a sword that costs much,
The most precious goods.
The sword costs among the men-folk:
Nine good horses,
Eight mares,
Ten pairs of oxen,
Twenty milk cows,
Fifty fine calves,
A hundred stores of wheat,
One and a half boatloads of barley,
A full ship of rye,
A thousand old thalers,
A hundred pairs of beads,
Two hundred gold coins,
An armful of brooches,
A third of a kingdom,
The dowry of five maidens."

Then there was brought from the innermost chamber,
From the finest innermost chest,
From behind seven locks' fastening,
From behind nine clasps —
Brought out into the light,
Into the sun's shining:
The finest king of swords,
The lord of war-blades,
The Finnish smith's tormenting anguish,
The iron-hand's exhaustion,
The mightiest power's affliction,
The bitterest drainer of hands —
What his daily sweat
For seven years had fed.

The famous king of swords
Some years before
Old Kalev himself
Had commissioned for his own use,
To be crafted with flowing care,
Fashioned with wise skill.
The old man's life-days,
His mortal steps,
By Taara's will reached
Early at the evening's edge
The rock-knoll of rest,
The cold bed of sleep —
Before the Finnish smith
Had finished the sword-work,
Had birthed the war-blade.

The smith had for seven years
With his sons' help hammered it,
Forged and smoothed it,
Polished it smoother,
Sharpened it keener,
Stretched it finer,
From seven kinds of iron-ore
Welded the sword's blade together;
Sung for each day's work
At the doing of the wiser craft
Seven kinds of words,
The fittest strength-words,
The most flowing power-words
For the famous sword-king.

The master had tempered
The sword-blade harder
In seven kinds of water's flowing,
In the moisture of dewy drops:
One was water from the Viru Sea,
Moisture from the broad Finnish Sea;
The second, water from Lake Peipsi,
Moisture from the lands of Pskov;
The third, water from Lake Vortsjarv,
Moisture from the ancient lake's trace;
The fourth was maiden-water,
Moisture from the Mother's spring;
The fifth, water from the Koiva River,
Moisture from the Latvian meadows;
The sixth, water from the Vohandu,
Moisture from the holy borders;
The seventh, clear rainwater,
Moisture from the cloud's swelling,
Which the thaw had birthed,
The dew-drops had raised.

The blade from seven steels,
From Swedish iron-ingots;
The shaft was of white silver,
The grip of the purest gold,
The pommel of Kungla-land stone;
The bindings of seven-colored ore,
The buckle of heavy coin,
The other of sturdy thaler,
The clasp-fittings of seal-stone,
The ring-stone of gravel-gems.

Kalev's dearest son
Took the elder of swords,
The famous king of irons,
Took it in hand to test,
Let the blade fly
At the wind's speed whipping,
Twirl a couple of times:

There arose a mighty roar,
An awesome whirring awoke,
A strange-sounding whooshing,
As if a gust were rising,
The whine of a rain-wind,
The shrieking of a hail-wind,
The roaring of a storm-wind
Heralding foul weather,
Spawning heavy rainfall,
Tossing the sea-waves,
Scattering the treetops,
Tearing at the rooftops,
Sending the sand-dunes flying,
Sifting the gravel.

Strong Kalev's son,
Scion of victors,
Letting his strong fist fall,
Struck the sword with a crack
Against the heavy anvil!
The mighty hand, victorious,
Split the iron anvil,
Split the base-block to pieces,
In two halves down the middle;
On the sword not a mark remained,
Not a scratch anywhere.

The Price of the Sword

Kalev's dear son
With joyful face speaking:

"This is a sword, a man's tool,
Made as a strong man's support,
This is a sword of golden worth,
Of silver's preciousness,
This is a born war-tool
For the strongest man's hand.

I promise you without fail
To pay the sword's price in full,
I pledge the ransom-loan
To pay without haggling:
Nine good horses,
Eight mares,
Ten pairs of oxen,
Twenty milk cows,
Fifty fine calves,
A hundred stores of wheat,
One and a half boatloads of barley,
A full ship of rye,
A thousand old thalers,
A hundred pairs of beads,
Two hundred gold coins,
An armful of brooches,
A third of a kingdom,
The dowry of five maidens.

The sword is mine, the price is yours —
Come to Viru to collect,
To Harju to claim your wages,
To Laane to redeem the price!"

The Finnish smith, iron-hand,
Understood at once, answered back:

"A debt has always been another's,
From a loan you don't get a stocking-sole,
From deceit not even a mitten-palm;
A just man pays another's due,
Pays a debt without balking.

Let the Harju ships carry,
The Viru boats roll
The sword's price to our land,
Payment to our farm.

The guild-loads will carry
Grain to our barns,
Row seeds to our storehouses;
Bring horses beneath the yard,
Drive oxen to the meadow,
Lead calves to the field,
Pack-carriers to the paddock,
Milk cows to the meadows.

Our yards are beautiful,
Our lanes are level,
Our barn-walls are bridges,
Our yard-fences of apple-wood,
Our field-fences of cherry-wood,
Our lanes of oak-wood,
Our partition-fences of maple;
In the paddock cuckoos call,
In the field thrushes whistle,
In the meadow small birds sing,
In the lane others dance.

We have geldings in harness,
Bald-faced geldings in glitter,
Bay horses in bearskins,
Blacks in silver livery,
Dun geldings in victory-dress,
Roans in silk saddles;
We have cows in the alder-grove,
Calves on the raspberry-hill,
Oxen in the hay-meadow:
From there the herds find company,
The horned ones kin-friends."

The Seven-Day Feast

A feast was prepared,
Long drinks, broad pleasures,
Broad merry movements
For the famous sword-king.
The feast lasted seven days,
Seven days the bellows rested,
The hammer rested, the base-block;
The iron tongs rested,
The smith's sons, the journeymen,
The old Finnish smith rested.

The Hop, proud on its bush,
The Cone, handsome on its stump,
Was the feast's master,
The broad pleasure's merry-maker:
Had crept into the barrels,
Snuck into the half-ales;
From there leaped into the tankards,
The wretch crept into the beakers.

Ale was drunk excessively,
The proud Hop spilled into heads,
Took the sense from men's heads,
Half the sense from boys' heads,
The headscarf from wise women's heads,
The wreath from maidens' brows.

The ale was running wild,
The mead was raging on the grass:
Women danced without their headscarves,
Men brawled without their caps,
Boys with half their trousers,
Maidens on all fours,
Leaping, crawling.

The ale, the wretch, running wild,
Made wisdom a fool,
Clear eyes cloudy,
Turned reason round,
Made men senseless.

The Boast and the Killing

Kalev's dearest son
Began to boast in defiance,
To swagger with a foolish head,
Babbling and lying,
How the matter on the Finnish voyage
On the island had amusingly happened,
How the island old man's hen,
The household maiden, slender,
Had cried out in embrace,
From the waist a little buckled,
From the hipbones crackled,
The mother's tenderly-guarded treasure
Had unknowingly been lost.

Before yet the telling
Had been scattered further,
The matter concluded,
The smith's eldest son leaped,
The iron-hand's wisest support,
With burning eyes from behind the table
Upon Kalevipoeg.

The Finnish smith's eldest son
With blazing eyes speaking:

"Babble on with your blabber-mouth,
Babble whatever pleasures your mind;
Leave the maiden unblamed,
The young daughter unshamed!
Do not come to slander the child,
To mock the maiden,
To soil her with a blabber-mouth:
Light-minded boasting,
Fool-minded swaggering
Shatters a maiden's fortunate life."

Strong Kalev's son
Answered so the walls shook,
The foundation-logs cracked,
The middle-logs swayed:

"What I boasted in defiance
I confirm plainly as truth.
The maiden's flowers I plucked,
The blossoms of joy I ruined,
The buds of fortune I broke:
The father came at the cry,
The mother at the daughter's voice."

The men went to brawling,
Raging with foolish heads,
Words birthed worse words,
Speech drove out crueler speech;
From word-abuse rose strife,
There arose a killing quarrel,
A blood-hungry feud rolled forth.

Sooner than was reckoned
Misfortune came from the quarrel,
From the curses a deed was born.
Kalev with a light hand drew
The sword from its sheath to rage.

With the murderer's sword-play
He scattered the head upon the floor;
Blood sprayed painfully
Into the brothers' eyes.

The Finnish smith, iron-hand,
Screaming and crying out!
The mother fell in shock
Beside her son upon the floor.

The old smith swearing,
After the oath speaking:

"Murderer, who the precious sword,
In the spilling of innocent blood,
In the killing without guilt,
Has eternally dishonored!
Shameless blood-dog,
You took support from old age,
Help from a wiser craft!

Sons, take the long tongs,
Take in hand the iron hammers!
Give the cudgel to the murderer,
Bloody wages to the enemy,
To the drainer of precious blood!"

The Smith's Curse

The sons went to fulfill the command,
To carry out the father's wish,
Took the heaviest hammers,
In their fists the longest tongs,
Heavy iron-bars,
To give Kalev the cudgel,
To crash blood-wages
Upon his skull.

Strong Kalev's son,
In the pride of hop-rage,
Rose to the middle of the room,
Brandishing the sword in fury,
Cried with a terrible voice:

"Ho there, sooty ghosts,
Blindest soot-eyes!
Is life so cheap to you?
Kalev has a mighty hand:
Where the blow falls,
There death is born.
The man is not yet come into the world,
His likeness not yet born,
Who could stand against me.
Come, if you want death!"

The Finnish smith speaking:

"Leave the robber unsmitten,
The blood-dog untormented!
Surely the gods' hand
In time will catch the robber,
Will measure out wages for the murderer,
Blood-wages for the blood-spiller.

Murderer, who the precious sword,
The lord of war-tools,
Has stained with innocent blood,
Soiled with guiltless death!
Surely the gods' court,
Taara's people's highest wisdom,
Will compel the sword to pay its debt,
To extinguish the evil deed!

Let it be, let it be, I curse:
Let the war-tool slay you,
The sharp iron kill you,
Let there come to you in secret
From the sword a murderer be born,
From the spilled blood an enemy!
Let you die in a swamp,
Rot on a tussock,
Decay in a thicket,
Moulder in a tangle!

Hear, sword, precious iron,
Hear, kingly one, the commands,
Heed what in my thoughts
With secret words I curse:
Rise, iron, to become a slayer,
Grow, to be a neck-cutter;
Pay the debt to the murderer,
Fulfill the maker's wish,
Where thoughts have not gone before,
Nor reckoning been dreamed!"

Strong Kalev's son,
Still half-mad from the hop,
Half still with head in rage's whip,
Stormed groggily from the room,
Stepped dazedly into the yard;
Therefore he did not heed the curses
More wisely,
Nor saw the father's slump,
The poor mother's grief-bow,
The unhappy sisters' sighing,
The household's sorrow
Over the withered son's death,
Over the brother's painful blood.

With staggering steps rushing,
Kalev swayed through the gate,
Swayed across the wide field,
Reeled from the field to the paddock,
Then went at last to the open land.

Strong Kalev's son
Tramped staggering along the road,
Wandered the hard path,
Until a river met him
On the left side of the road;
Walked along the riverbank,
Where three waterfalls tumbled,
Casting foam wide.

Kalev's weary son,
When he had passed the waterfalls,
Was overcome by weariness,
By the body's exhaustion,
Found a resting-place on a hill,
Cast himself down to sleep,
To shake loose the ale's fog,
To mend his thick head,
To air the anguish from his mind.

Kalev's son rested;
His snoring bent the meadows,
Rocked the cliffs
To tremble and sway,
Forced the sand to shift,
The gravel to sift.
Birds in fright left off their song,
Forest beasts their play.
But the folk began to say:
Is war riding forth,
The battle-wagon rolling?

The Song of the Great Oak

Let us set the song-ship sailing,
The storyteller's little boat,
The merry-bearer's barge
To rest at the island shore,
To rest at the raft's edge.

Let us go to the island's open land
To behold the old oak,
That was once brought from the sea,
Was found in the waves.

A handsome little oak rose,
Swelled in the day's light,
Stretched in the rain's flowing;
The oak thrust into the sky,
Long branches into the clouds,
Its crown near the sun.

The oak makes the sky dark,
Hides the light in darkness,
Covers the moon and covers the sun,
Shades the stars from shining,
Buries the land in black color
Into darkness's hiding.

The oak rose, the oak grew,
Grew, rose ever higher;
The oak strains to lift the sky,
Its branches to scatter the clouds.

The island father had ridden,
Had gone far to inquire,
Measured many lands by stride,
Ridden horseback to many shores
Searching for helpers,
Hiring day-laborers
Who would topple the oak,
Fell the enormous one,
Hew the wide branches from its sides;
Who would make the oak into useful wood,
Wide branches into ships,
Crown-pieces into towns.

The island father pleading,
Begging the hirelings:

"Come fell the oak,
Hew its wide branches,
Bring down its crown;
The oak is darkening the sky,
Hides the sunlight,
Covers the starlight,
Extinguishes the moon's glow."

The men understood, answered back:
"Cannot come, dear fellow!
The oak has grown to the sky,
Its crown parting the clouds;
The oak is stronger than us:
Its stump does not fear our axes,
Its trunk our choppers."

The island father came back,
Went home grieving.
The wife came to meet him in the yard,
Began to press for news.

The father understood, answered back:
"I went on a wind-errand in vain,
Cannot find oak-fellers,
Wide-branch hewers,
Who would bring the crown down,
Scatter the long branches."

The wife led the father indoors,
Told him to go to the chamber,
Where an eagle was in fetters,
A thumb-man in bonds.

The wife spoke thus:

"I went to gather hay,
To rake the scraps together,
A golden rake in hand,
A copper shaft behind,
Silver rake-teeth,
Golden rings on the sides.

I gathered a swathe, gathered two,
Began to gather a third.
What did I find beneath the swathe?
I found an eagle beneath the swathe;
This was a home-raised eagle,
Hatched by day, a son of day,
Hatched by night, a son of mother.

I brought the eagle home,
Put it in bonds in the chamber.
What was under the eagle's wing?
A man was under the eagle's wing.
The little man's height bore
The measure of two spans,
The length of a Kalev thumb.
What was in the man's arms?
An axe was in the man's arms."

The father asked the man,
The thumb-length one inquiring:

"Would you like, dear one,
To go fell the oak,
To hew its wide branches?"

The little man understood,
The thumb-length one spoke:

"Free me from my prisoner's bonds,
Tear the fetters from the hobble,
And then we shall make a deal!"

The little man was freed from his bonds,
The fetters torn from the hobble,
A deal was struck.
What was given him as wages,
Promised as payment?
A golden bowl was given as wages.

The little man went out into the yard,
Stepped closer to the oak;
Then he began to grow,
To rise beside the oak;
Grew an ell, grew two,
Then straightened many fathoms more.

The man who had risen from the little man
Began to fell the oak;
Felled a day, felled two,
Felled a stretch of the third day:
The oak began to sway,
To rock on its stump,
Its crown to fall.

The oak's trunk covered the island,
Its crown fell into the waves.

What was made from this oak?
From the trunk a strong bridge was made,
A fine pontoon was bent
On two branches across the sea.
One led from the island to the Viru shore,
The other branch to the Finnish shore —
That is the famous Finnish Bridge.

From the crown proud ships were made,
Precious trading ships,
From the middle guild-boats,
From the interstices small towns,
From branches came slave-ships,
From shavings children's boats.

What remains, leave it be:
From it comes a poor man's sauna,
A mourning-room for widows,
A shelter for orphans,
Where in the rain's rolling,
In the storm-wind's raging,
In the snowdrift they find shelter.

What remains, leave it be:
From it comes a fine song-room,
A merry-chamber for the singer,
Where the words are set in order,
Glued into song-thread.

Those who walked by there,
Traveled the Finnish Bridge,
Stopped and pondered:
Is this the Town of Flesh,
Or is this the Shore of Money,
Or is this Kungla's dwelling?

The singer heard, answered back:

"Oh you fools and simpletons,
Blessed with meager wit!
Were this the Town of Flesh,
Then it would be made of flesh;
Were this the Shore of Money,
Then it would be forged from coin;
Were this Kungla's dwelling,
Then it would be made of gold.

This is the singer's room,
A poor man's little chamber,
A poor man's little shelter.
The moon is the door before it,
The sun shines on the ceiling,
The stars dance in the room,
The rainbow as the awning's shade.

Here the songs were created,
The word-voyages were born,
The tongue-twistings were spun.
A spindle was in the middle of the poor chamber,
A tow-distaff in Taara's hall,
A thread-warp in the Creator's hands,
Another at the sun's gate,
A third in the dawn's schoolroom.

Beautiful was the taking for the taker,
The hank lovely for the spinner;
The sun spun the drought-thread,
The dawn wove the red thread,
The sky spun blue silks."

Colophon

Kalevipoeg — composed and compiled by Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald from Estonian folk songs and oral tradition, first published in verse form in Kuopio, 1857-1861. Canto VI is the arming canto and the catastrophe: the hero acquires the sword that will define his career and doom. The seven-fold forging — seven years, seven steels, seven waters, seven spell-words — is one of the great smithing set-pieces in European epic, rivaling the making of Gram in the Volsunga saga and Excalibur in the Arthurian cycle. The sword was commissioned by old Kalev himself, who died before it was finished; the son inherits the father's weapon and immediately bloodies it with innocent blood. The smith's curse — "Rise, iron, to become a slayer, / Grow, to be a neck-cutter" — is the Chekhov's gun of the entire epic, fulfilled in Canto XX when the cursed sword, sunk in a river, cuts off Kalevipoeg's legs as he wades across. The interpolated Song of the Great Oak is a self-contained folk tale of cosmological scale: a cosmic oak covers the sky until a thumb-sized man fells it and from the wood are made the Finnish Bridge, ships, towns, and the singer's chamber where the moon is the door and the stars dance.

Translated from 19th-century Estonian by the New Tianmu Anglican Church (Good Works Translation), 2026. Translated by Tuuli with Claude (Opus 4.6). No existing English translation was used as a source; the English is independently derived from the Estonian text. W.F. Kirby's 1895 English prose translation exists but was not consulted.

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

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Source Text: Kalevipoeg — Kuues Lugu

Estonian source text from Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald, "Kalevipoeg" (Kuopio, 1857). Digital text from Project Gutenberg. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.

Kalevipoeg, kange meesi,
Seisis päeva mure paelus,
Kaksi kurvastuse kütkes
Lese eide leinamisel;
Kolmandamal enne koitu,
Vara enne valge′eda
Hakkas koju minemaie,
Ranna poole rändamaie.
        Tulid tuulest tuisatelles
Mõnusamad mõttekesed,
Ärkasivad õhukesest
Osavamad arvamised.
        Soomes elas kuulus s e p p a,
Sõjariista sünnitaja,
Vaenuriista valmistaja,
Mõnusama mõõga meister.
        Kalevipoeg pajatama:
"Enne kojuminekuda
Peaksin mõõga muretsema,
Sõjasaha sobitama
Vaenulaste vastaseksi."
        Silmapilgul sammusida
Teise teele seadidessa
Läks ta üle lagendiku,
Käis ta üle kanarbiku,
Sammus läbi samblasoosta,
Rändas tüki rabasooda.
Seal tuli vastu metsa suuri,
Vastu lausa laanemetsa.
Kalevite kange poega
Eksis mööda männimetsa,
Eksis päeva, eksis kaksi,
Kaotas kolmandama päeva
Õige tee otsimisel.
Öö tuli pikka ja pimeda,
Taevas täheta ja tume;
Otsis meesi õnnekaupa,
Katsus teeda käsikaudu.
        Kalevite kallim poega
Langes laia kuuse alla
Pikalisti muru peale
Pahal tujul pajatelles:
"Kõik nüüd kullad läevad koju,
Hõbedased hoonetesse,
Teised tutvasse talusse;
Minul kodu kole metsa,
Kamber keskel kuusikuda,
Laia laane minu tuba,
Tuules on mul tulease,
Vihmas vihtlemise paika,
Udus uinumise kohta.
Isa läks ju enne ilmast,
Kui sain päeva paistuselle,
Eite langes surmasängi
Salasõudikute saatel,
Ilma et mu silmad nägid,
Jättis mu vaeseks järele;
Vennad kaugella Virussa,
Teised Turgi radadella.
Jäin kui lagle lainetelle,
Pardipoega parve äärde,
Kotkas kõrgele kaljule,
Üksi ilma elamaie."
        Teise päeva tõusengulla
Kalevipoeg kõndimaie,
Hüva õnne õpetusel
Uuest teeda otsimaie.
Rästas hüüdis rägastikust,
Kägu kukkus kuuse otsast,
Linnukene lepikusta:
"Pööra päeva veeru poole,
Veere videviku vastu!" -
        "Olge terved, targad nokad,
Sulgilised soovitajad!"
Pajatas Kalevipoega.
Seadis sammud sõudevalle
Lääne käänul lendamaie,
Õhtutuulel tallamaie.
        Kiirelisti kihutelles
Pääses metsa paksustikust,
Sai ta laia lagedalle.
Mööda mägilista maada,
Kaljulista teeda mööda
Kõndis Kalev kaugemalle.
        Seal tuli vastu vanaeite,
Tuli vastu lomperjalga
Kargu toella kõndidessa.
Vanaeite viskamaie,
Sõnu nõnda sõudemaie:
"Kuhu lähed kiirel käigil,
Kallis Kalevite poega?"
        Kalevite kallim poega
Mõistis kohe, kostis vastu:
"Mul tuli mõnus mõte meelde,
Hüva arvus ajudesse:
Tahtsin kuulsat tahmasilma,
Soome seppa sõbrustada,
Tahtsin mõõka tingimaie,
Kallist minna kauplemaie.
Juhatele, eidekene,
Kuulutele, kulla moori,
Kust ma leian sepa teeda,
Raudakäpa radasida?"
        Vanaeite mõistis kohe,
Mõistis kohe, kostis vastu:
"Hõlpsalt võid sa, vennikene,
Juhtimata jälgi leida.
Mine laiast laanest läbi,
Keskelt kena kuusikusta
Kihutele jõe kalda,
Kõnni päeva, kõnni kaksi,
Kõnni ehk veel kolmat päeva;
Pöörad sa siis õhtu poole,
Leiad mäe lagedalta,
Kõrge künka tee kõrvas;
Mine mäe äärta mööda,
Kääna kurakätt künkasta,
Siis sul jõuab jõgi vastu
Paremal pool tee kõrvas.
Kõnni jõe kallast mööda,
Kus kukub kolme joada;
Jõuad jugadesta mööda,
Kohe näed sa kena orgu.
Kena oru keske′ella,
Peitelikus puie varjus
Seisab kõrge mäe ääres
Kaljukuristiku koopas
Kuulsa Soome sepa koda."
        Kalevite kange poega,
Kiirustelles teedekäiki
Vanaeide juhtimisel,
Laskis laiast laanest läbi,
Keskelt kena kuusikusta
Kihuteli jõe kalda;
Kõndis päeva, kõndis kaksi,
Kõndis tüki kolmat päeva,
Pööras otse õhtu poole,
Leidis mäe lagedalta,
Kõrge künka tee kõrvas,
Marssis mööda mäe äärta,
Käänas kurakätt künkasta
Kihutelles jõe kalda;
Kõndis jõe kallast mööda,
Kus kukkus kolme joada.
Penikoormad kahanesid
Pika sammu sõudemisel.
        Viimaks veeres kena orgu
Sõudevalle silmadesse.
Kaugemalle kihutelles
Puutus lõõtsumise puhin,
Vasarate raske värin
Alasilta kõlksutelles
Kaugelt Kaleville kõrva.
        Kõrvakuulu juhatusel
Astus Kalevite poega
Sõudsamailla sammudella
Soome seppa sõbrustama.
        Kena oru keske′ ella
Peitelikus puie varjus
Seisis kõrge mäe ääres
Kuulsa Soome sepa koda.
Suitsu andis salatähte,
Säde selget tunnismärki,
Lõõtsa puhin lausumada,
Raua ragin rohkemada,
Et siin sepilista tehti,
Vasaratööd valmistati.
        Vana kuulus Soome seppa,
Tahmamusta taadikene,
Püüdis kolme poja seltsis
Sepilista sobitada,
Salalista sünnitada.
Sepa pojad, sellikesed,
Tahmased kui vana taati,
Panid pauke raua pihta
Vasaraida virutelles.
         Helepuna mõõgatera -
Tulevat verd tähendades -
Oigas ajult alasilla
Vasarate valu alla,
Raske käe rõhutusel,
Pigistaval pihi piinal.
Sestap tulda topitie,
Lõõtsa suhu sunnitie,
Pehmitie, pinnitie,
Pehmitie tule paistel,
Pinnitie peenemaksi,
Taotie tugevamaks,
Karastati kõvemaksi,
Kaste vahel katsutie,
Pinni vahel painutati,
Kas sest sünnib mõõka hüva,
Tarbelikku terariista.
        Kalevipoeg, kangelane,
Astus sepa läve alla,
Hüüdis õuest üle ukse,
Üle läve lõksatille:
        "Tere, seppa! Taara appi
Targa tööde toimetusel,
Salaliku sünnitusel!" -
        "Tere jumalime, venda!"
Kostis Soome raudakäppa
Lotti lakalt kergitelles.
Siis ta püüdis silmasihil
Tulijada tunnistada,
Mõtte mõõdul mehepoega
Sugudelta seletada.
Vahtis võõrast alta kulmu,
Pilusilmal pilgelisti,
Vahtis otsast varba′ani,
Kuklast jalakandadeni,
Mõõtis mõttes mehe määra,
Poisikese koiva pikkust,
Arvas labaluie laiust;
Siisap sahkas raudakäppa:
"Taara nimel teretajal,
Abisõna avaldajal
Antaks igas kohas asu,
Igas peres puhkepaika.
Kaugelt oled, kotkas noori,
Tugevtiivul siia tulnud?
Küllap kasvid kuulsas külas,
Paisusid küll kenas pesas,
Targa talu taimekene,
Kalevi pere kasvandikku?"
        Kalevite poega mõistis,
Kavalasti vastu kostis:
"Ega sugu lahku soosta,
Võsu ei veere kännusta;
Igal linnul oma laulu,
Sugu mööda sulgiskuubi:
Rähnil kirju, kaarnal musta,
Tedrepojal punaharja,
Kukepojalla kannuksed,
Kalalgi sugu soomuksed,
Vähil musta mudakuube.
Kuule, seppa, raudakäppa,
Tahmamusta taadikene!
Kas teil hüva mõõka müüa,
Tugevamat terariista,
Mis ei murdu mehe käessa?
Andke kaupa katsutella,
Et ma mõõga kindlust mõõdan,
Teravusta tunnistelen!"
        Soome seppa kostis vastu:
"Ostjal luba otsust nõuda,
Luba kaupa katsutella.
Seakaup ei kotis sünni,
Mõrsjakaup ei ukse tagant,
Pilkaspimeduse peidust -
Kui see lonkru hobu kaupa,
Sõgesilma vahetused.
Silm olgu selge seletamas,
Käsi virka katsumassa,
Tarkus asja talitamas:
Siis ei sünni kaubal kahju,
Ohtu iial ostemisel."
        Soome seppa, raudakäppa,
Sundis kohe sellikesta,
Käskis nooremada poega
Kambrist tuua katsekaubaks
Mõne mõnusama mõõga.
        Poega täitis taadi käsku,
Tõttas kambrist kaupa tooma.
Tõi siis mõõku kaenlatäie,
Terariistu sületäie
Kaleville katsekaubaks.
        Kalevite kallis poega
Mõõga pikkust mõõtemaie,
Tera kindlust tunnistama,
Käsipidet katsumaie;
Püüdis tera painutada,
Kas, kui lookas, kargab kohe
Silmapilgul jälle sirgeks.
Võttis pideme pihusse,
Laskis tera lennuskille
Tuule kiirul tuisatelles
Paari korda keeritada,
Siisap rabas raksatelles
Mõõka vastu kaljupakku.
Kõvast kivist tuiskas tulda,
Sädemeida särisedes;
Tera pudenes tükkideks,
Killud kargasid kaugele,
Käepide jäi pihusse.
        "Tohu, tohu! tugevkäsi!"
Hüüdis seppa imetelles.
        Kalevite kange poega
Kostis vastu koerahambail:
"Tühjast ei saa tugiriista,
Vaenu vastu varjajada!"
Võttis varmalt teise mõõga,
Võttis kätte kolmandama,
Laskis tera lennuskille
Paari korda keeritada;
Siisap rabas raksatelles
Kiustekaupa kallist rauda,
Mõõka vastu kaljupakku:
Kõvast kivist tuiskas tulda,
Sädemeida särisedes,
Tera pudenes tükiksi,
Killud kargasid kaugele,
Käsipide jäi pihusse.
        Soome seppa, raudakäppa,
Tahmataat aga pajatas:
"Sest saab nalja selleks korraks,
Katsekaupa küllaltie!
Ma ei raatsi kallist rauda,
Valmistatud vaenuriista
Katsekaubaks kulutada,
Kangekäele mängiks anda.
Mine, poega, kergejalga!
Käi sa kiirest kamberisse,
Too meile mõõku tugevamaid,
Katseriistaks kindlamaida,
Millest kange mehe käsi
Võrralista vastast leiab."
        Teine poega tõttas kiirelt
Taadi käsku täitemaie;
Kandis salakamberista
Kaenlatäie kalleid mõõku,
Sületäie sõjariistu
Tugevama teradega
Kalevite poja katseks.
        Kalevite kallis poega
Võttis mõõga vägevama,
Terariista tugevama
Kange käe mängituseks,
Laskis tera lennuskille
Paari korda keeritada,
Siisap rabas raksatelles
Mõõga vastu alasida.
Tera tungis tugevasti
Tollipaksult alasisse,
Mõõk jäi ise murdemata,
Tera katki kildumata,
Aga tera näitas nüri,
Kahekorralisti keerdus.
        Soome seppa sahkamaie,
Pilkel nõnda pajatama:
"Oota, oota, poisikene,
Anna aega, vennikene!
Küllap leian mõõga kirstust,
Sõjasaha salakambrist
Suure rammu sarnaliseks,
Võimsa väe vääriliseks,
Kui sul rohkest kulda kotis,
Hõbe lunastusehinda,
Mõõga võrra varandusta,
Korja kulda kukkarussa,
Taalerida tasku′ ussa,
Penningida pungadessa.
See′p on mõõka, maksab palju,
Kallihinnalisem kaupa,
Maksab mõõka vende keskel
Üheksa hüva hobuda,
Kaheksa karimärada,
Kümme paari härgasida,
Kaksikümmend lüpsilehma,
Viiskümmend paremat vasikat,
Sada säilitist nisuda,
Poolteist paati odrateri,
Rohke laeva rukkisida,
Tuhat vana taalerida,
Sada paari paaterida,
Kakssada kuldarahada,
Sületäie sõlgesida,
Kuningriigi kolmandiku,
Viie neitsi kaasavara."
        Seal siis toodi isekambrist
Kenamast isekirstusta,
Seitsme luku sõlmitusest,
Üheksa taba taganta -
Toodi välja valge′elle,
Päikese paistuselle
Kenam mõõkade kuningas,
Sõjasahkade isanda,
Soome sepa pihapiin′ja,
Raudakäpa rammestaja,
Vägevam võimu vaevaja,
Kibedam käte kurnaja:
Mis ta higi igapäeva
Seitse aastat ala söönud.
Kuulsat mõõkade kuningat
Oli mõne aasta eesta
Vana Kalevite taati
Enda tarbeks käskind teha,
Voolsal hoolel valmistada,
Targal kombel toimetada.
Vanarauga elupäevad,
Põrmupõlve sammukesed
Jõudsid Taara tahtemisel
Varemini õhtu veerul
Kaljukünka puhkamaie,
Vilu sängi suikumaie:
Enne veel, kui Soome seppa
Mõõga tööda toimetanud,
Sõjasaha sünnitanud.
        Sepp oli mõõka seitse aastat
Poege abil painutanud,
Tagunud ja tasutanud,
Siledamaks silitanud,
Teravamaks teritanud,
Peenemaksi pinnitanud,
Seitset sugu rauakarrast
Mõõga tera kokku keetnud;
Laulnud iga päeva kohta
Targema töö toimetusel
Seitset sugu sõnasida,
Sündsamaida rammusõnu,
Voolsamaida võimusõnu
Kuulsa mõõgakuningalle.
Meister oli mõõgatera
Kõvemaksi karastanud
Seitset sugu vete volil,
Arumärgade hautusel:
Üks oli vesi Viru merest,
Märga lausa Soome merest,
Teine vesi Peipsi järvest,
Märga Pihkva radadelta;
Kolmas Võrtsujärve vesi,
Märga muistse järve jälilt;
Neljas oli neitsi vesi,
Märga Ema lättekesest;
Viies vesi Koiva jõesta,
Märga Läti luhtadelta;
Kuues vesi Võhandusta,
Märga püha piiridelta;
Seitsmes selge vihmavesi,
Märga pilve paisutusest,
Mis see sula sünnitanud,
Kastepiiska kasvatanud.
Tera seitsmest teraksesta,
Rootsi raua rahnudesta;
Vars oli valgesta hõbedast,
Käepide kallimast kullast,
Kupp Kunglamaa kivista;
Sidemed seitset karva karrast,
Pannal paksusta penningist,
Teine tugevam taalerist,
Pandlapidemed pitserkivist,
Sõrmuskivi sõmerasta.
        Kalevite kallim poega
Võttis mõõkade vanema,
Kuulsa raudade kuninga,
Võttis kätte katse′ eksi,
Laskis tera lennuskille
Tuule kiirul tuisatille
Paari korda keeritada:
Sealap tõusis kange kohin,
Ärkas imeline mühin,
Võõravääriline vuhin,
Nii kui tõuseks tuulehoogu,
Vihmatuule vingumine,
Rahetuule röökimine,
Marutuule möirgamine
Kurja ilma ilmutama,
Sadu rasket sigitama,
Merelaineid mängitama,
Puie latvu puistamaie,
Katukseida kiskumaie,
Liivikuida lennutama,
Sõmeraida sõelumaie.
        Kalevite kange poega,
Võidulaste võsukene,
Kanget käppa kukutelles
Rabas mõõka raksatelles
Vastu raske′ et alasit!
Vägev käsi, võidurikas,
Lõhkus raudase alasi,
Lõhkus tükkis aluspaku
Kahte osasse keskelta;
Mõõgale ei jäänud märki,
Krammikesta kusagille.
        Kalevite kallis poega
Rõõmsail palgeil pajatama:
"See on mõõka meheriista,
Tehtud tugeva toeksi,
See on mõõka kullakaupa,
Hõbedase hinnaline,
See on sündind sõjariista
Mehe kangema käele.
Tõotan sulle tõrkumata
Mõõga hinna välja maksta,
Luban lunastuse laenu
Tingimiseta tasuda:
Üheksa hüva hobuda,
Kaheksa karimärada,
Kümme paari härgasida,
Kaksikümmend lüpsilehma,
Viiskümmend paremat vasikat,
Sada säilitist nisuda,
Poolteist paati odrateri,
Rohke laeva rukkisida,
Tuhat vana taalerida,
Sada paari paaterida,
Kakssada kuldarahada,
Sületäie sõlgesida,
Kuningriigi kolmandiku,
Viie neitsi kaasavara.
Mõõk on minu, hinda sinu, -
Tule Virust võttemaie,
Harjust palka pärimaie,
Läänest hinda lunastama!"
        Soome seppa, raudakäppa,
Mõistis kohe, kostis vastu:
"Võlg on vanast võõra oma,
Laenust ei saa sukalaba,
Petust kindapöialtagi;
Õige tasub teise oma,
Tasub võlga tõrkumata.
Lase kanda Harju laevad,
Veeretada Viru paadid
Mõõga hinda meie maale,
Tasudust meie talusse.
Küllap kandvad killakoormad
Vilja meie aitadesse,
Sõudvad teri salvedesse;
Toovad hobud alla õue,
Ajavad härjad arule,
Viivad vasikad vainule,
Krapikandjad koppelisse,
Lüpsilehmad luhtadelle.
        Meie õued on ilusad,
Meie tänavad tasased,
Laudaseinad meil sildad,
Õueaiad õunapuusta,
Vainuaiad visnapuusta,
Tänavad meil tammepuusta,
Vaheaiad vahterasta;
Koppelis käod kukuvad,
Vainul rästad vilistavad,
Luhal laulvad väiksed linnud,
Tänavas teised tantsivad.
Meil on ruunad rahadessa,
Laugud ruunad litterissa,
Kõrvid karunahkadessa,
Mustad hõbemunderissa,
Võigud ruunad võiduriides,
Sälud siidisadulassa;
Meil on lehmi lepikussa,
Vasikaid vaarikumäella,
Härgasid heinaarussa:
Sealtap saavad karjad seltsi,
Sarvikud sugult sõprasid."
        Võõruspidu valmistati,
Pikad joodud, laiad ilud,
Laiad lustilikud liigud
Kuulsa mõõga kuningalle.
Pidu kestis seitse päeva,
Seitse päeva puhkas lõõtsa,
Puhkas vasar, aluspakku;
Puhkasivad rauapihid,
Sepa pojad, sellikesed,
Puhkas vana Soome seppa.
        Humal uhke põõsa otsas,
Käbi kena kända′assa
Oli pidude peremees,
Laia ilu lustilooja:
Oli tükkind tünderisse,
Pugend õllepoolikusse;
Sealtap kargas kannudesse,
Puges kuri peekerisse.
Liiku joodi liialisti,
Humal uhke valgus pähe,
Võttis meele meeste peasta,
Poole meele poiste peasta,
Tanu targa naiste peasta,
Oidu tütarlaste otsast.
Õlut oli hullamassa,
Mõdu murul möllamassa:
Naised tantsisid tanuta,
Mehed mütsita mürasid,
Poisid pooliti püksata,
Neiud neljatöllakille,
Hüpakille, käpakille.
        Õlut, kuri hullamassa,
Tegi tarkuse tölbiksi,
Selged silmad segaseksi,
Pööras arud pööraseksi,
Tegi mehed meeletumaks.
        Kalevite kallim poega
Hakkas kiuste kiitlemaie,
Hullu peaga hooplemaie,
Lorisedes luiskamaie,
Kuidas lugu Soome sõudes
Saarel naljakas sündinud,
Kuidas Saare taadi kana,
Perepiiga peenikene
Kaisutelles kiljatanud,
Niudest vähe niksatanud,
Puusaluiest naksatanud,
Eide hella hoitud vara
Kogemata ära kaotand.
        Enne veel kui pajatusta
Pikemalta pillutanud,
Asjalugu lõpetanud,
Kargas sepa vanem poega,
Raudakäpa targem tugi
Tulisilmil laua tagant
Kalevipoja kallale.
        Soome sepa vanem poega
Põlevsilmil pajatama:
"Lorise sa lobasuuga,
Lorise, mis meelel lustid;
Jäta piiga laitemata,
Tütar noori teotamata!
Ära tule lasta laimamaie,
Neiukesta naeremaie,
Lobasuulla solkimaie:
Kergemeelne kiitlemine,
Hullumeelne hooplemine
Puistab piiga õnnepõlve."
        Kalevite kange poega
Kostis, et seinad kõikusid,
Aluspalgid paukusivad,
Vahepalgid vankusivad:
"Mis ma kiuste kiitelesin,
Tõeks selgesti tunnistan.
Neiu lilled ma noppisin,
Rõõmu õied ma raiskasin,
Õnne kaunad ma katkusin:
Tuli taati kisa peale,
Eite tütre heli peale."
        Mehed läksid mässamaie,
Hullu peaga undamaie,
Sõna halvemaid sünnitas,
Kõne kurjemaid kihutas;
Sõnasõimust sigis riidu,
Tõusis tappeline tüli,
Veeres vereahne vaenu.
        Varemalt kui arvatie
Tülist õnnetus tulema,
Sõimust tegu sündimaie,
Kiskus Kalev kerge käega
Mõõga tupesta möllama.
Mõrtsuka mõõga mängilla
Puistas pea põrmandalle;
Veri virtsas valusasti
Vastu silmi vendadelle.
        Soome seppa, raudakäppa,
Kiljatelles kisendama!
Eite langes ehmatelles
Poja kõrva põrmandalle.
        Vana seppa vandumaie,
Pärast vannet pajatama:
"Mõrtsukas, kes kallist mõõka
Vaga vere valamisel,
Ilmasüüta hukkamisel
Igavesti ära teotand!
Häbemata verekoera,
Võtsid tuge vanuselta,
Abi targema ametist!
        Poisid, võtke pikad pihid,
Võtke kätte raudvasarad!
Andke malka mõrtsukalle,
Verist palka vaenlaselle,
Kalli vere kurnajalle!"
        Pojad läksid käsku täitma,
Isa tahtmist toimetama,
Võtsid raskemad vasarad,
Pihusse pikemad pihid,
Rasked rauarahnukesed,
Miska Kaleville malka,
Mõrtsukalle verepalka
Kulmudelle kukutada.
        Kalevite kange poega
Humalaviha uhkuses
Tõusis keskele tubada,
Vihast mõõka vibutelles
Hüüdis koleda häälega:
        "Tohoh, tahmalased tondid,
Sõgedamad nõgisilmad!
Ons teil elu üsna odav?
Kalevil on vägev käsi:
Kuhu hoopi kukuteleb,
Sinna surma sigiteleb.
Mees veel alles ilmumata,
Sarnaline sündimata,
Kes see suudaks vastu seista.
Tulge, kui surma tahate!" -
        Soome seppa pajatama:
"Jätke röövel rookimata,
Verekoera kiusamata!
Küllap jumalate käsi
Tasudessa röövli tabab,
Mõrtsukalle palka mõõdab,
Verist verevalajalle.
Mõrtsukas, kes kalli mõõga,
Sõjariistade isanda,
Vaga verega värvinud,
Süüta surmaga solkinud!
Küllap jumalate kohus,
Taaralaste ülem tarkus
Mõõka sunnib võlga maksma,
Kurja tegu kustutama!
        Saagu, saagu, ma sajatan,
Saagu sind sõjariist surmama,
Terav raud sind tappemaie,
Saagu sulle salamahti
Mõõgast sündima mõrtsukas,
Valatud verest vaenlane!
Saagu sa sohu surema,
Mätta otsa mädanema,
Põõsastikku pendimaie,
Rägastikku raipenema!
        Kuule, mõõka, kallis rauda,
Kuule, kuninglik, käskusid,
Märka, mis ma mõtetessa
Salasõnulla sajatan:
Tõuse, rauda, tappejaksi,
Kasva kaela lõikajaksi;
Maksa võlga mõrtsukalle,
Täida sünnitaja soovi,
Kus ei mõtted enne käinud,
Arvamist ei unes olnud!"
        Kalevite kange poega,
Pool veel hullu humalasta,
Pool veel peada vihavimmas,
Tormas uimaselt toasta,
Astus umbselt õue peale;
Sest ei pannud sajatusi
Targemalta tähelegi
Ega näinud isa norgu,
Vaese ema leinavingu,
Õnnetu õdede ohkamist,
Kodurahva kurvastusi
Närtsind poja surma pärast,
Venna valusa vere pärast.
        Tuikuvsammul tormatessa
Vankus Kalev väravasta,
Vankus üle laia vainu,
Kõikus vainult koppelisse,
Läks siis viimaks lagedalle.
        Kalevite kange poega
Tallas tuikel teeda mööda,
Rändas rasket rada mööda,
Kuni jõgi jõudis vastu
Kural poolel tee kõrvas;
Kõndis mööda jõekallast,
Kus kolm juga kukkumassa,
Vahtu laialt viskamassa.
        Kalevite väsind poega,
Kui ta joadest mööda käinud,
Võttis võimu väsimusel,
Keharammu kurnatusel
Puhkepaika künka peale,
Heitis maha magamaie,
Liigu umbust lahutama,
Paksu peada parandama,
Tuska meelest tuulutama.
        Kalevite poega puhkas;
Norin nõtkutas nurmesid,
Kõiguteli kaljusida
Vabisedes vankumaie,
Sundis liiva liikumaie,
Sõmeraida sõelumaie,
Linnud kohkel jätsid laulu,
Metsaliste pojad mängi.
Rahvas aga rääkimaie:
Kas on sõda sõitemassa,
Vaenuvanker veeremassa?
      Laskem laululaevukene,
Pajataja paadikene,
Lustikandja lodjakene
Saare randa seisemaie,
Parve äärde puhkamaie.
Lähme saare lagedalle
Vana tamme vaatamaie,
Mis seal enne toodud merest,
Lainetesta oli leitud.
        Kena tammekene kerkis,
Paisus päeva paistusella,
Venis vihma volidella;
Tammi tungis taeva′asse,
Pikad oksad pilvedesse,
Latva päikse ligidalle.
        Tamm teeb taeva tumedaksi,
Peidab valgust pimedasse,
Katab kuu ja katab päeva,
Varjab tähed valgustamast,
Matab maa musta karva
Pimeduse peitusesse.
        Tammi tõusis, tammi kasvas,
Kasvas, tõusis kõrgemaksi;
Tammi kipub taevast tõstma,
Oksad pilvi pillutama.
        Saare taati oli sõitnud,
Käinud kaugel kuulamassa,
Mõõtnud sammul mitu maada,
Ratsul sõitnud mitu randa
Abimehi otsimassa,
Päilisi palkamassa,
Kes see tamme kukuteleks,
Määratuma maha raiuks,
Laiad oksad laastaks küljest;
Kes teeks tamme tarbepuuksi,
Laiad oksad laevadeksi,
Ladvatükid linnadeksi.
        Saare taati sahatelles
Palgalisi palumaie:
"Tulge tamme raiumaie,
Laiu oksi laastamaie,
Latva maha langutama;
Tammi taevast tumendamas,
Peidab ära päevapaiste,
Varjab kinni tähevalge,
Kustutab kuu kumeduse."
        Mehed mõistsid, kostsid vastu:
"Või ei tulla, vennikene!
Tammi kasvand taeva′ani,
Latva pilvi lahutamas;
Tammi meista on tugevam:
Känd ei karda meie kirveid,
Tüvi meie tapperida."
        Saare taat tuli tagasi,
Käis siis kurtessa koduje.
Eit tuli vastu alla õue,
Hakkas otsust ajamaie.
Taat aga mõistis, kostis vastu:
"Tuulekäiki käisin tühja,
Saa ei tamme raiujaida,
Laia oksa laastajaida,
Kes see ladva langutaksi,
Pikad oksad pillutaksi."
        Eit viis taadi tubaje,
Käskis minna kamberie,
Kus see kotkas kütke′essa,
Pöigelmeesi paeladessa.
        Eit aga nõnda pajatama:
"Läksin loogu võttemaie,
Riismeid kokku riisumaie,
Reha kuldane käessa,
Varsi vaskine järella,
Hõbedased rehapulgad,
Võrud kuldased küljessa.
Võtsin kaare, võtsin kaksi,
Hakkasin kolmat võttemaie.
Mis ma leidsin kaare alta?
Leidsin kotka kaare alta;
See′ p see kodu kasvand kotkas,
Päeval hautud päevapoega,
Öösel hautud eidepoega.
Viisin kotka ma koduje,
Panin köide kamberie.
Mis seal kotka tiiva alla?
Mees oli kotka tiiva alla.
Mehikese kõrgus kandis
Kahe vaksa vääriliseks,
Kalevi pöigla pikkuseks.
Mis seal mehe kaendelassa?
Kirves mehe kaendelassa."
        Taati mehelta küsima,
Pöiglapikult pärimaie:
"Kas sa tahad, kullakene,
Tamme minna raiumaie,
Laiu oksi laastamaie?"
        Väike mehikene mõistis,
Pöiglapikku pajateli:
"Päästa mind vangipaelusta,
Kisu kütke kammitsasta,
Siisap kaupa sobitame!"
        Päästeti mehike paelusta,
Kisti kütke kammitsasta,
Hakati kaupa tegema.
Mis tal palgaks paisatie,
Lepituseks lubatie?
Kuldakaussi anti palgaks.
        Mehike läks õue peale,
Astus tamme ligemalle;
Sealap kerkis kasvamaie,
Tamme kõrvas tõusemaie;
Kasvas küünra, kasvas kaksi,
Sirgus siis veel mitu sülda.
        Mehikesest tõusnud meesi
Hakkas tamme raiumaie;
Raius päeva, raius kaksi,
Raius tüki kolmat päeva:
Tammi hakkas tuikumaie,
Kännu otsas kõikumaie,
Ladva otsa langemaie.
Tamme tüvi kattis saare,
Latva langes lainetesse.
        Mis sest tammest tehtanekse?
Tüvest tehti tugev silda,
Painutati kena parvi
Kahel haarul üle mere.
Üks viis saarelt Viru randa,
Teine haaru Soome randa,
See′ p see kuulus Soome silda.
        Ladvast tehti uhkeid laevu,
Tehti kalleid kaubalaevu,
Keskelt killapaatisida,
Vahelt väikseid linnakesi,
Oksadest sai orjalaevu,
Laastudesta lastelaevu.
        Mis jääb järel, jätke jälle:
Sealt saab kehva mehe sauna,
Leinatuba leskedelle,
Vaestelaste varjupaika,
Kus nad vihma veeretusel,
Marutuule möllamisel,
Lumetuisul varju leidvad.
        Mis jääb järel, jätke jälle:
Sealt saab kena laulutuba,
Laulijalle lustikamber,
Kus neid sõnu seadeldakse,
Laululõngaks liimitakse.
        Kes sealt mööda käidanesid,
Soome sillal sõitanesid,
Seisatasid, mõistatasid:
Kas see on Lihala linna,
Ehk on see Rahala randa,
Ehk on see Kungla kodada?
Laulik kuulis, kostis vastu:
"Oh teie hullud ja rumalad,
Ahtra aruga armetud!
Oleks see Lihala linna,
Siis oleks lihasta tehtud;
Oleks see Rahala randa,
Siis oleks rahasta taotud;
Oleks see Kungla kodada,
Siis oleks kullasta tehtud.
See on lauliku tubada,
Kehva mehe kambrikene,
Vaese mehe varjukene.
Kuu on uksena eessa,
Päike laella läikimassa,
Tähed toassa tantsimassa,
Vikerkaar vibuna varjuks.
        Siin need laululood loodi,
Sõnasõuded sünnitati,
Keelekeerud korrutati.
Ketr oli keskel kehva kambris,
Takukoonal Taara tares,
Lõngalõime Looja kätel,
Teine päikese väraval,
Kolmas koidu koolikojas.
Ilus oli võte võttijalla,
Heie kena ketrajalla;
Päike paistis põualõnga,
Eha punus punalõnga,
Taevas sinisiidisida."

Source Colophon

Estonian text from Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald, Kalevipoeg (Kuopio, 1857–1861). Digital text sourced from Project Gutenberg (public domain). The double-spacing of the digital edition has been removed; the verse lines are presented in their original sequence with stanza breaks preserved.

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