The Homecoming

Canto VII is the homecoming and the reckoning. Having killed the Finnish smith's son and received the smith's curse upon his sword (Canto VI), Kalevipoeg wakes on a hilltop with no clear memory of his crimes. The death of the smith's son causes him no remorse. He walks three days to the coast, finds the dead sorcerer's boat in chains (from Canto V), and rows homeward toward Viru, singing a sea-song of golden oars and maiden-ships.

But the sea holds its dead close. At midnight, passing the island where he had seduced and destroyed the maiden (Canto IV), her ghost rises from the waves and sings the longest lament in the epic — accusing her "blood-hungry brother, love-astray boy" of a double blood-debt, one for the maiden herself and one for the smith's son. She asks when her brother too will be laid to rest from his long suffering. At dawn, Kalevipoeg reaches Iru Hill, where the wisdom of Taara's followers had turned his mother Linda into rock (Canto III). Linda's spirit-shadow sings from the wind, warning the eagle-son that his iron talons have spilled innocent blood: "Blood craves blood's payment!" The rock-mother can say no more.

Home at last, Kalevipoeg finds his brothers. On the second evening they share their quest-songs for the vanished mother. The elder brother journeyed through the lands of metal maidens — tin, copper, silver, and gold — each progressively closer to speech, until a gold maiden directs him to a flesh-and-blood girl who invites him to woo. The second brother wandered through a forest, meeting an empty sauna with only a black cat, a grinning wolf, a mumbling bear, and finally a golden cuckoo who directs him to a farm of four maidens. Both brothers refuse the maidens — they seek only their mother. The youngest tells of Finland but conceals the murder, the maiden's ghost, and the mother's warning.

The brothers agree to cast lots for kingship, as their father commanded before his death. At dusk, Kalevipoeg goes alone to his father Kalev's barrow and speaks with the dead. The father cannot rise — broken at the neckbone, grass on his earth, moss on his stone, bluebells on his eyes, meadowsweet on his feet — but he counsels: "Do not grieve, little son. The lost father's shadow watches over his good child." The son replies with the canto's most famous lines: "The wind's love is for hours, the day's love is for days, Taara's love is for a lifetime, a father's love is forever." The father's last words: "The unwitting wrong you did — try to repair it again."

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.

Evening and Awakening

The sun shone in the treetops,
Evening dangled on its shoulder,
Tired shadows stretched
The silence-veil over the grass,
Peace's robe across the forests;
From the mourning birch's leafy embrace,
From the sorrow-aspen's lap,
From the spruce's golden cap
A lonely songbird called
The story of the day's end,
Called in the evening's chill,
Showing praise to the setting sun,
Giving thanks to the wisest Father.

Kalevipoeg, the mighty man,
When he had escaped sleep's bonds,
The fetters of weariness,
Began clearing his eyes,
Softening his eyelids,
Sorting through his thoughts,
Wanting to recall,
To remember what had passed,
Which like a faded dream,
A pallid little figure,
Flickered in his memory.

The footsteps of recent times
Had not left clear traces.
In an autumn haze of drowsiness,
In a drought-dry cloud of smoke
Stood yesterday's events:
Whether he had held long revels
In Finland or on the island,
Whether trouble came from Turkey,
Fighting along Tuura's road —
Of this he had no clear knowledge.

The killing of the smith's son,
The spilling of innocent blood,
Made no sorrow's impression
Nor brought a burden of remorse.

The Sorcerer's Boat

Dear son of Kalev
Hurried again to push on,
To wander in eager haste,
Until he reached the hill
That he had passed on the way.
He walked a day, walked two,
Across the wide open lands,
Along rivers, over hills,
Then went through the broad forest,
Walked part of a third day
With long strides toward the shore.

On the seashore, in rocky bonds,
In firm chains of iron,
Stood the wind-wizard's boat,
The old sorcerer's vessel.
The son of Kalev took
The death-frozen sorcerer's
Little boat as inheritance,
Took the vessel as consolation
Since he had not found his mother.

Kalev's dearest son
Freed the little boat
From its fetters of chains;
Sat himself in the skiff,
Took the oars in his strong hands,
Began rowing swiftly,
Striving toward home,
Set the sails to swell,
Hung the sheets in the wind.
The wind's gust pushed from behind,
The wave shoved merrily,
Rolling toward Viru.
On the water's surface the oar played,
Hastened by the rower's force,
The other hand held the rudder,
So the boat would not stray from its course.

The son of Kalev does not tire;
His chest is of rowan,
His shoulders of apple-wood,
His arms of maple,
His elbows of elm,
His finger-joints of currant-wood,
His fingernails of honeysuckle,
Iron strength in all his body.

The wind's gust pushed from behind,
The wave shoved merrily,
Rolling toward Viru.

The Sea-Song

The son of Kalev sang:
"I went to play upon the sea,
To sing upon the waves,
Golden oars in my hands,
Silver oar-shafts.
What came to meet me?
A flock of ducks came toward me,
Under the waves a flock of geese,
Upon the waves a flock of swans,
From the midst a fine flock of wild geese.

"I went to play upon the sea,
To sing upon the waves,
Golden oars in my hands,
Silver oar-shafts.
What came to meet me?

"Three ships came toward me:
One was a ship of young wives,
The second a ship of wise women,
The third of young maidens,
A little boat of fair girls.
There were many maidens there,
Currant-eyed sisters,
Girls by the dozen;
Golden gloves on their hands,
Silver rings on their fingers,
Silk shirts on their backs,
Mist-patterns on their sleeves,
Precious thalers around their necks,
Great brooches on their breasts,
Garlands on their heads with sunlight-patterns.

"Proud maidens all at once
Began to love me,
To press their love upon me fiercely.
I answered them:
'Be quiet, little hens!
Leave off weeping, mournful birds!
Soon enough the lucky evening comes,
A better sun will shine,
Where your happiness will bloom,
Mates will rise to meet you,
Husbands will grow for you,
Where your fortunes have been allotted,
Where your lots have been cast;
From Kalev no husband grows,
This boy is not for your part.'"

The wind's gust pushed from behind,
The wave shoved merrily,
Rolling toward Viru;
On the water's surface the oar played,
Hastened by the rower's force,
The other hand held the rudder,
So the boat would not stray from its course.

The Bloodstains

The brisk sea-breezes
Carried the boat toward Viru,
The skiff toward the south.
The brisk sea-breezes
Freed his head from ale's excess,
From the hop-anger's madness;
Yet clear understanding
Of the last hostile feast,
Of the quarrel risen at the smith's forge,
The hero could not gain.
What told the tale here
Were the familiar bloodstains,
Blood-traces on the sword's side,
Blood-marks on his tunic.

The wind's gust pushed from behind,
The wave shoved merrily,
Rolling toward Viru.

The Drowned Maiden's Song

Already midnight's cover
Had hidden the sea's surface,
Already the Sieve stood on edge,
The Pleiades against the light,
When a rising little figure
Swelled up from the sea's surface.

Kalevipoeg, the mighty man,
Recognized the famous island's shore,
Where on his way, unwittingly,
He had befriended the island maiden,
Rocked her in love's embrace.
The girl's songs, the girl's love,
The girl's screaming cries,
The terrible falling into the sea,
The drowning in the waves
Came back to the hero's mind,
Muddled his thoughts into darkness,
Broke his spirit into sorrows.

Kalev's dearest son
Wanted, rowing softly,
To sail past the island's shore,
Fearing to sadden the father,
To frighten the gentle mother,
Who still mourned their flower,
Still wept for the young maiden.

Listen, listen — what sounds from there,
What sings there at the waves' edge?
Is it not a maiden's voice,
A young virgin's song,
The vanished hen's crowing,
That rises from the waves,
That swells from the silent water-bed?

Kalevipoeg stopped his rowing,
Laid the oars at the side,
Set them to rest on the boat's edge,
And began to listen.

The maiden's ghost from the water's hiding
Gleamed upon the waves,
Whistled like a waterbird,
Spoke like a little duck:

"The maiden went to swing upon the sea,
To sing upon the waves,
The child went to ease her mind,
To forget the wrong done to her,
To quench her sorrows.
Brother sails on the water's edge,
Sails on the wide waves,
Sister sleeps in a secret bed
In a hiding-chamber's depths.
What gleams there in the waves,
What flashes on the water's surface?
A sword gleams in the waves,
Blood flashes on the water's surface,
Setting the waves to blaze,
The maiden's cheeks to blush.
Oh you blood-hungry brother,
You love-astray boy!
Why did you in rage
Go to spill innocent blood?
Why your own home-hen,
Your own father's dove,
Did you crush upon the grass?

"I went to swing upon the sea,
To sing upon the waves,
The child went to ease her mind,
To forget the wrong done,
To quench her sorrows.
What gleamed from the waves?
Blood gleamed from the waves.
Brother sailed on the water's surface,
A murder-sword gleaming at his hip,
Blood flashing on the sword's side,
Setting the waves to blaze,
The maiden's cheeks to blush,
The withered flower to bloom again.

"Sister sleeps in a secret bed
Under the cold water's blanket,
Rocked in the cradle of waves.
Oh you blood-hungry brother,
You love-astray boy!
Why did you in rage
Go to spill innocent blood?
Why your own home-hen,
Your own father's dove,
Did you crush upon the grass,
Ruin the young one's peace,
Force your sister
To drift into death's bed?
A double blood-debt
Breaks the brother's peace.

"Brother sails on the water's surface,
Sister sleeps in her secret bed,
Under the cold water's blanket,
Rocked in the cradle of waves.
The brother faces hard struggles,
Hard repayment of the debt
To silence the innocent blood,
To quench the wrong,
To atone for excesses,
That he once unwittingly,
And a second time unknowingly,
Has rolled up as a burden of debt.
Oh you wretched little brother,
Long is your age of debts!

"I went, young maiden,
To the seashore to play,
To sing upon the waves,
To scatter my dark moods:
There I, a hen, vanished,
There I died, little bird,
There, young one, I weakened,
There, little flower, I withered!

"Do not weep, dear mother!
Do not grieve, dear father!
I have my home upon the sea,
Under the waves my secret room,
My little chamber in the fish-spawn,
My little nest in the sea-mist,
I have my bed in the cold,
A fine cradle in the waves;
The Kalevs rock me,
The Sulevs lull me to sleep.

"Oh you wretched little brother,
Long is your age of debts!
Oh you wretched one on the water's edge:
When will you too be laid to bed,
Be rocked to peace-rest,
To rest from long suffering?"

Grief Upon the Waters

The withered maiden's mourning songs,
The dear ghost's lamentations,
The wise words from the wave-bed,
The sayings from the sea-bottom
Saddened Kalevipoeg,
Cast the young man into sorrow.
In the mourning mind, reflections
Bred longings,
Grew into remorse.
The flight of time gone by,
The Finnish smith's son's death,
Which like a dream-figure
Spinning at dawn
Suddenly vanished —
Kalev could not make firm,
Could not make what happened unhappen.

He took the oars in hand,
Began rowing anew,
Rowing toward home.
The wind's gust pushed from behind,
The wave shoved merrily,
Rolling toward Viru;
On the water's surface the oar played,
Hastened by the rower's force,
The other hand held the rudder,
So the boat would not stray from its course.

The son of Kalev sang:
"Where are the mourning's alder groves,
The anguish's aspen groves,
The sorrow's spruce forests,
The remorse's birch groves?

"Where I mourn, an alder grove grows,
Where I anguish, an aspen grove,
Where I grieve, a spruce forest grows,
A birch grove shelters the one who repents.

"Oh my gentle dear mother,
Who raised me with love,
Who rocked me in your hands,
Who lulled me at your lips:
You had to die alone,
To wither unseen!
Who pressed your eyes shut,
Who closed your brows together?
The bluebell closed your eyes,
The dew-grass covered your brows.
Oh my gentle dear mother!
The bluebell has hidden thorns,
The dew-grass has rough hairs.

"Oh my gentle dear mother!
How you raised me,
Raised me, held me close,
Lifted me up, bounced me,
Set me down, played with me,
Lulled me at your lips,
Rocked me with both hands!
You thought I would be your support,
Believed I would step forth as your help,
Hoped at life's end
To have one to lower you gently to rest,
To have one to close your eyes."

The wind's gust pushed from behind,
The wave shoved merrily,
Rolling toward Viru.

The Mother's Ghost

Already the dawn was rising,
The sun's blade near the ascent,
When he turned the boat just then
Toward the home shore.

Kalev's dearest son
Let the skiff drift to shore,
Tied the chain-fetters
Of the little boat to the raft's edge;
Sprang himself onto the shore,
Wanted at once toward home
To set his steps,
To go see his brothers,
Whether perhaps the brothers on Viru's road
Had found their mother's traces.

Kalevipoeg, the mighty man,
Reached the ridge of Iru Hill,
Where the wisdom of Taara's followers
Had hardened his mother into rock.

Hush, hush, valiant man!
Hold still, little son!
Do you hear something strange,
What sounds from far away?
What gleams on the evening's hem,
What whistles in the wind?
Like a created little song,
A human little voice
Sounds from the wind's murmur.
Kalevipoeg, the mighty man,
Turns his ears toward the sound,
Where those voices awaken.
An unseen song-spirit,
A young daughter of the wind-mother,
Sent a song flowing smoothly,
Falling into the listener's ear:

"From home flew the crooked-beak,
From the nest the eagle's better son,
Flew mourning like a swan,
Sorrowing like a cuckoo;
The dear eagle's son flew
To wander a righteous road,
To seek his mother's traces;
Strong the wings upon the bird,
Sharp the talons on the eagle.
Fair, he flew from home,
Bright, from his father's yard,
As a teardrop rolls from a cloud,
Snow falls upon the open land,
As the pea sheds its flower,
As the bean sheds its own,
The lilac loosens its leaves,
The rowan shakes down its clusters,
And beyond the field the bird-cherry branches.
So the bird flew from home,
A grouse to other waters,
A goose to other springs.

"By Taara's wise will
The widow's days of mourning,
The long days of suffering,
Had happily reached their evening.

"Eagle's son, crooked-beak,
How does your road wander homeward?
Fair, you flew from home,
Bright, from your father's yard.
The eagle-son's iron talons
Spilled innocent blood,
Ruined a maiden's peace.
A double blood-debt
Torments the eagle's son,
Burdens the crooked-beak's heart.
A mother pushes her breast to his mouth,
But cannot push sense into his head!
Beware, eagle, crooked-beak,
Beware of the sword:
Blood craves blood's payment!
No longer can the rock-mother
Speak at greater length."

So sang upon the wind's wing
The dear mother's spirit-shadow.

The Brothers Meet

Kalev's dearest son
Understood from the song's riddle
How his dear mother
Had faded into her death-bed;
Understood from the song's riddle
How on his Finland journey
He had done wrong twice over:
Once erred unwittingly,
The second time unknowingly.
Kalevipoeg, the mighty man,
Hastened toward home;
Reached his father's yard,
Reached the pasture gate,
Dogs barking in the yard.
Brothers came to the gate,
Came to look at the stranger.
When they saw the youngest,
Whom they believed lost,
The brothers came wondering
To recognize the newcomer,
Who had a proud sword at his hip,
Golden spurs on his boots.

Who could possibly retell
All the questions in proper order,
That the three brothers here
Spoke among themselves?

On the second evening the three
Strong men sat together,
Shared their tidings,
How the search for their mother
Had gone for each of them.

The Elder Brother's Quest

The elder brother, speaking,
Set his song flying:
"I went to seek our mother,
To catch the vanished hen,
I went, I walked a stretch of road,
A stretch of road, much land,
I walked a stretch of empty land,
Seven versts of that land,
Ten versts of Kura land,
Half a verst of Polish land,
Five versts of Russian road,
A hundred versts of German land,
A thousand steps of Turja land.
What came to meet me from there?
A tin-maiden came to meet me,
A girl made of tin,
Tin mouth, tin eyes,
Tin neck and tin body,
Tin sleeves on her hands.
I asked the tin-one:
'Did you see my mother's traces,
The grouse-son's road?'
The tin did not understand the question
Nor know how to give an answer:
Tin dull as stone,
Could not move her mouth.

"I hurried quickly onward,
Let my steps fly
A stretch of road and much land,
Walked a stretch of empty land,
Seven versts of that land,
Over eight rocky mountains.
What came to meet me from there?
A copper-maiden came to meet me,
A girl cast from copper.
Copper mouth, copper eyes,
Copper neck and copper body,
Copper from head to toes,
A copper coat on the maiden's back,
Copper sleeves on the coat.
I asked the copper-one:
'Did you perhaps see the road
Where the home-hen has vanished,
The grouse-daughter gone into the storm?'
The copper did not understand the question
Nor know how to give an answer;
Copper dull as stone,
Could not move her mouth.

"I hurried quickly onward,
Let my steps fly
A stretch of road and much land;
Walked a stretch of empty land,
Over eight rocky mountains,
A hundred versts of mossy marsh.
What came to meet me from there?
A silver-maiden came to meet me,
A girl cast from silver,
Silver mouth, silver eyes,
Silver the whole body
From head to toes;
Silver coat, silver sleeves,
Silver patterns on the sleeves.
I asked the silver-one:
'Did you perhaps see the road
Where the home-hen has vanished,
The grouse-daughter gone into the storm?'
The silver did not understand the question
Nor know how to give an answer.
Silver cold as stone,
Could not move her mouth,
The silver tongue could not speak.

"I hurried quickly onward,
Let my steps fly
A stretch of road and much land;
Walked a stretch of empty land,
Seven versts of that land,
Over eight rocky mountains,
A hundred versts of mossy marsh.
What came to meet me from there?
A gold-maiden came to meet me,
A golden king's daughter.
Golden mouth, golden brows,
Golden neck, golden body,
Gold from head to toes.
Golden sleeves on her hands,
Golden patterns on the sleeves,
Golden coat, golden cap,
A golden crown upon the cap.
I asked the gold-one:
'Did you perhaps see the road
Where the home-hen has vanished,
The grouse-daughter gone into the storm?'
The gold understood, answered at once,
The golden beak called out:
'Go to the clearings' roads,
Hasten to the heatherland,
There you'll find a flesh-and-blood maiden,
One who speaks with a warm mouth.'

"I hurried quickly onward,
Let my steps fly,
My toes rolling.
Walked a stretch of empty land,
Seven versts of boggy marsh,
Eight cattle-meadows,
Ten versts of ploughed land;
There I reached the clearings' roads,
The midst of the heatherland.
What came to meet me from there?
A fair maiden came to meet me,
A girl born from a mother's lap,
With cheeks of rosy blush,
Eyes with the gleam of life.
I went asking the maiden,
Questioned the high-bosomed girl:
'Did you perhaps see the road
Where the home-hen has vanished,
The grouse-daughter gone into the storm?'
The fair maiden understood at once,
The girl spoke kindly:
'I have not seen, dear brother,
The hen's traces in the heather,
The grouse's road in another place.
Perhaps the hawk has taken the hen,
The eagle carried the grouse away.
Come, brother, to our farm
To woo our home-hens;
We have plenty of fair-haired ones,
A greater crowd of currant-eyes,
A small herd of curly-heads,
Seven fair brooch-breasted ones,
Ten gold-garland wearers,
Twenty beautiful bead-necked ones,
A hundred silk-clothed maidens.'
I understood, answered back:
'I cannot come, young daughter!
I am not one who goes courting,
Not a wanderer on maiden-paths;
I seek my lost mother's traces,
My little mother who went into the forest.'"

The Second Brother's Quest

The second brother, speaking,
Set his song flying:
"I went to seek our mother,
To catch the vanished hen,
I went, I walked a stretch of road,
A stretch of road, much land,
I trampled a stretch of open land,
Stepped along the great marsh,
Walked along the riverbank,
Some versts through the forest.
What came to meet me from there?
A little sauna came to meet me.
I came to the sauna door:
'Hello, old mother, hello, old father!
Come guide me on my way!'
No old mother answered, no old father answered,
A black cat meowed in the corner.

"I hurried quickly onward,
Let my steps fly,
I went, I walked a stretch of road,
A stretch of road, much land,
I trampled a stretch of open land,
Stepped along the second marsh,
Walked along the riverbank,
Some versts through the forest.
What came to meet me from there?
A forest-prowler came to meet me.
I asked the wolf:
'Did you perhaps see, little brother,
Our mother's traces in the forest?'
The forest-prowler could not answer,
The wolf-cub could not speak,
Only stared askance,
Showed his teeth grinning.

"I hurried quickly onward,
Let my steps fly,
I went, I walked a stretch of road,
A stretch of road, much land,
I trampled a stretch of open land,
Stepped along the second marsh,
Walked along the riverbank,
Some versts through the forest.
What came to meet me from there?
An old bear came to meet me.
I asked the bear:
'Did you perhaps see, little brother,
Our mother's traces in the forest?'
The bear did not understand the question
Nor know how to give an answer;
What the little fellow grumbled,
I could not make out a word.

"I hurried quickly onward,
Let my steps fly,
I went, I walked a stretch of road,
A stretch of road, much land,
I trampled a stretch of open land,
Stepped along the second melting marsh,
Walked along the riverbank,
Some versts through the forest.
What came to meet me from there?
A tall spruce came to meet me,
A golden cuckoo in the spruce's crown.
I asked the cuckoo:
'Did you perhaps see, golden-beak,
Our mother's road in the forest?'
The cuckoo understood, answered at once,
The golden-beak raised her voice:
'Go through the broad forest,
From there comes a beautiful glade,
Behind the glade a fine birch grove,
In the midst of the birch grove a proud farm;
There you'll find maidens
Who can give you an answer.'

"I hurried quickly onward,
Let my steps fly,
I went, I walked through the forest,
Stepped across the glades,
Walked through the birch grove.
What came to meet me from there?
A proud farm came to meet me,
On the farm four young maidens,
Four fair curly-necks.
One of them was sewing a silk shirt,
The second embroidering sleeve-patterns,
The third weaving a golden belt,
The fourth clicking a loom.
As if kindled by the wind,
The room shone to the newcomer,
The walls stood in silk coverings,
The floor swept clean.

"I greeted them kindly:
'Hello, maidens, marten-eyes!
Do you perhaps know the road
Where the home-hen has vanished,
The grouse-daughter gone into the storm?'
She who was sewing the silk shirt
Did not utter a word,
She who was embroidering the sleeve-patterns
Did not open her mouth,
She who was weaving the golden belt
Kindly received my greeting,
She who was clicking the loom,
She was the richest in words,
She was the one who kindly spoke:

"'I have walked, dear, along the cattle-path,
I walked yesterday on the berry-land,
The day before in the back forest,
Before that in the meadow gathering hay,
I have not seen the hen's traces
Nor the grouse-daughter's road;
Likely they went by flight,
Likely they took a winged road.
Let the summer ride past,
Soon enough autumn will come;
Take wine-berries in hand,
Put betrothal gifts in your bags,
Go courting a hen,
Catching another grouse!'
I understood, answered back:
'I do not seek a young wife,
I want no other grouse,
I seek my lost mother's traces,
My mother's paths of love.'"

The Youngest Brother's Account

The third brother began to tell
How his search too
Had all gone to the empty wind.
He spoke of the island journey,
The events on the Finland road,
How the sorcerer, the wind-wizard,
Had faded into his death-bed,
He told of the precious sword's purchase,
The long feasts of celebration;
But of the last bloody quarrel,
The killing of the smith's son,
The island maiden's wave-song,
His mother's song upon the wind —
Of these he did not tell his brothers.

The Casting of Lots

The elder brother sent his word,
Set his song flying thus:
"Our father sleeps in the barrow-hill,
Under a cloak of sandy gravel,
A stone slab upon his bed;
Where our mother's foot has strayed,
What has fixed her step,
Only Taara's godly wisdom
May perhaps know.
Whether the widow's grief,
The wearing-down of sorrow,
Has brought our mother to her end?
Or whether misery's force,
A suitor's harassment,
Has carried the good widow in a thief's claws
Out to a foreign field?
Or whether the rolling of waters
Has scattered her to the sea's bottom?
This is unknown to all of us.

"A parent's sheltering wing,
A love-embrace's warming —
We three can hope for no more.
On the strength of our own wings
We birds must fly.
Now our father's command must
Be carried out among ourselves;
Let us, brothers, cast lots:
Which of us shall rise as king.
So had our father before his death
Instructed our mother."

The second brother sent his word,
Set his song flying thus:
"You are right, little brother!
As our departed father's wisdom
Confirmed his wish as command,
So it is the born children's duty
To carry out the matter.
Our youngest brother has reached manhood,
The chick has wings now,
Can already fly from the nest
Clear across the sea:
Let the lot then be cast,
Let the matter find its judgment!"

The youngest brother sent his word,
Set his song flying thus:
"My father died before my birth,
Before I reached the daylight,
My mother has gone on a wandering road,
Was taken, the poor one, perhaps by force.
Mother was taken from the doorway,
Love went out through the windows,
Mother was taken along the road,
Warm words along the marsh;
Where the hen was struck down,
Where the grouse-daughter's grave was made,
There love beneath the bank
Was frozen by winter's cold;
Mother was thrown into her grave,
The love-embrace froze solid.

"We, three brothers,
Orphan children without parents,
Must strive to carry out
Our father's command without defiance.
Let us go tomorrow to cast lots,
To test our strength,
To seek our fortune,
Which of us by Taara's will
Shall take the ruling power!"

Each man had his own thoughts,
His own secret wishes
Growing in his heart:
Hope for the lot's luck,
Fear of losing fortune.

At the Father's Grave

At evening, in the twilight hour,
In the lingering dusk,
The youngest brother wandered alone,
Walking with sorrowful steps
To his lost father's grave;
A mourning cloth in the young man's hand,
A tear-cloth in his fist,
He steps upon his father's grave,
Sits upon the barrow-hill.

The father from the grave asks:
"Who stirs upon the sand,
Who steps upon the grave,
Treads with his steps the gravel,
Rocking the barrow-stone?"

The son understood, answered back:
"Your son stirs upon the sand,
Your son steps upon the grave.
Your youngest son, dear father,
Whom your eyes never saw,
Treads with his steps the gravel,
Rocking the barrow-stone.
Rise up, dear father!
Rise to give your love,
To stroke your son's head;
Rise to lend your strength,
To speak a few words!"

The father understood, answered back:
"I cannot rise, young son,
Cannot rise, cannot be wakened.
I am broken at the neckbone,
Dust at the kneecap,
Grass has grown upon my earth,
Meadow-grass upon my grave,
Moss has grown upon my stone,
Bluebells upon my eyes,
Meadowsweet upon my feet.
The wind comes, brings you love,
The day comes, strokes your head."

The son answered back sadly:
"The wind's love is for hours,
The day's love is for days,
Taara's love is for a lifetime,
A father's love is forever."

The father answered from beneath the earth,
With loving tongue from the barrow:
"Do not grieve, little son,
Do not weep, young one!
The lost father's shadow watches
From the barrow his good child's steps.
By the gods' guidance
The little streams of life run,
The little waves of fortune flow.
The unwitting wrong you did —
Try to repair it again!"

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 VII is the homecoming canto and the canto of ghosts. Every wrong that Kalevipoeg has committed returns to him in the form of a singing voice: the drowned maiden from the waves, his mother Linda from the rock where she was turned to stone, and his father Kalev from the barrow where he lies broken. The maiden accuses; the mother warns; the father counsels. Between these ghost-songs, the three brothers share their quest-narratives for the vanished mother — the elder through a progression of metal maidens (tin, copper, silver, gold, and finally flesh), the second through a forest of mute and speaking creatures (empty sauna, wolf, bear, golden cuckoo, and four weaving maidens). Both quests end with the brother refusing a bride and insisting he seeks only his mother. The canto's most famous passage is the exchange at the barrow: the father cannot rise because he is broken bone and moss and bluebells, but the son's reply — "The wind's love is for hours, the day's love is for days, Taara's love is for a lifetime, a father's love is forever" — is one of the most quoted lines in Estonian literature. The father's closing counsel — "the unwitting wrong you did, try to repair it again" — sets the moral arc for the remaining thirteen cantos.

Translated from 19th-century Estonian by the New Tianmu Anglican Church (Good Works Translation), 2026. Translated by Kuura 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 — Seitsmes 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.

Päike paistis puie ladvul,
Õhtu õlal ripakille,
Väsind varjud venitasid
Vaikusvaipa üle muru,
Rahu rüüdi metsadelle;
Leinakase lehiskaisust,
Muretishaava rüpesta,
Kuuse kuldakübarasta
Hüüdis üksik laululindu
Päeva lõpetuse lugu,
Hüüdis õhtu viludusel
Loojal′ kiitust ilmutelles,
Tänu targema taadile.
Kalevipoeg, kangelane,
Kui oli pääsend une paelust,
Väsimuse volidusest,
Hakkas silmi selitelles,
Laugusida lauhutelles
Arvamisi arutama,
Tahtis meelde tuletada,
Möödaläinut mälestada,
Mis kui närtsind unenägu,
Kolletanud kujukene
Tema luulemises läikis.
Viimse aja sammu-astmed
Polnud selget jälge jätnud.
Sügiseses udusombus,
Põualises pilvesuitsus
Seisid eilsed sündimised:
Kas ta Soomes ehk kas Saares
Pikki lustisid pidanud,
Kas tal Turgist tulnud tüli,
Taplust olnud Tuura rajal,
Sest ei teadnud tema selgest.
Sepa poja surmamine,
Vaga vere valamine
Ei teind muretise mulju
Ega kahetsuse koormat.
Kallis Kalevite poega
Tõttas jälle tõukamaie,
Kiirel kihul rändamaie,
Kuni küngas jõudis kätte,
Kust ta tulles mööda käinud.
Kõndis päeva, kõndis kaksi
Läbi laiu lagedaida,
Jõge mööda, mäge mööda,
Läks siis laiast laanest läbi,
Kõndis tüki kolmat päeva
Pikal sammul ranna poole.
Merekaldal kalju kütkes,
Kindlas ahelate kütkes
Seisis tuuletarga lotja,
Tuuslar-taadi paadikene.
Kalevite poega võttis
Surmas hangund sortsilase
Paadikese päranduseks,
Võttis laeva lepituseks,
Et ei olnud eite leidnud.
Kalevite kallim poega
Päästis lahti paadikese
Ahelate kütkendusest;
Istus ise lootsikusse,
Võttis mõlad võimsa kätte,
Hakkas kiirul aerumaie,
Kodu poole püüdemaie,
Pani purjed paisumaie,
Riided tuulde rippumaie.
Tuulehoogu tõukas tagant,
Laine lükkas lustilikult
Veeretelles Viru poole.
Vete pinnal mängis mõla
Sõudja sunnil kiirustelles,
Teine käsi pidas tüüri,
Et ei paati teelta pääse.
Kalevite poeg ei väsi;
Piht on mehel pihlakane,
Õlanukid õunapuusta,
Käsivarred vahterased,
Küünarnukid künnapuusta,
Sõrmelülid sõsterased,
Sõrmeküüned kuslapuised,
Raudarammu kõiges kehas.
Tuulehoogu tõukas tagant,
Laine lükkas lustilikult
Veeretelles Viru poole.
Kalevite poega laulis:
"Läksin merel′ mängimaie,
Lainetesse laulemaie,
Aerud kuldased käessa,
Hõbedasta aeruvarred.
Mis mull′ vastu juhtunekse?
Tuli vastu pardiparvi,
Alla lainte lagleparvi,
Peale lainte luigeparvi,
Keskelt kena haneparvi.
Läksin merel′ mängimaie,
Lainetesse laulemaie,
Aerud kuldased käessa,
Hõbedasta aeruvarred.
Mis mull′ vastu juhtunekse?
Vastu tuli kolme laeva:
Üks oli noorte naiste laeva,
Teine targa naiste laeva,
Kolmas noorte neiukeste,
Kena piigade paadike.
Seal oli palju piigasida,
Sõstrasilma sõsaraida,
Tüdrukuid tosinakaupa;
Kuldakindad neil käessa,
Hõbesõrmuksed sõrmessa,
Siidisärgid neil seljassa,
Udukirjad käikseilla,
Kallid taalrid kaela ümber,
Sõled suured rindadella,
Pärjad peassa päevakirja.
Uhked neiud ülekaupa
Hakkasid mind armastama,
Kurjast mulle kippumaie.
Mina vastu kostelesin:
"Olge vaita, kanakesed!
Jätke nuttu, nukrad linnud!
Küllap tuleb õnneõhtu,
Pääseb paistma parem päike,
Kus teil õnned õitsevad,
Tõusvad teile poolekesed,
Kasvavad teil kaasakesed,
Kuhu teil õnned osanud,
Kuhu teil jaod jaetud;
Kalevist ei kasva kaasat,
Ei sest poisist teie poolta."
Tuulehoogu tõukas tagant,
Laine lükkas lustilikult
Veeretelles Viru poole;
Vete pinnal mängis mõla
Sõudja sunnil kiirustelles,
Teine käsi pidas tüüri,
Et ei paati teelta pääse.
Vinged meretuulekesed
Viisid paati Viru poole,
Lõuna vastu lootsikuda.
Vinged meretuulekesed
Päästsid peada liigu purjust,
Humalaviha hullusest;
Siiski selget seletusta
Viimsest vaenulikust pidust,
Sepa kojas tõusnud tülist
Kangelasele ei saanud.
Mis siin lugu tõendasid,
Olid tundsad veretähed,
Verejäljed mõõga küljes,
Veremärgid vammuksessa.
Tuulehoogu tõukas tagant,
Laine lükkas lustilikult
Veeretelles Viru poole.
Juba keskiööde kate
Peitis kinni merepinda,
Juba sõela seisis servi,
Vardad vastu valge′eda,
Kui üks kerkiv kujukene
Merepinnal üles paisus.
Kalevipoeg, kangelane,
Tundis tähtsa saare kalda,
Kus ta tulles kogemata
Saare neidu sõbrustanud,
Armu kaisus kiigutanud.
Piiga laulud, piiga armud,
Piiga kisakiljatused,
Kole merrekukkumine,
Lainetesse uppumine
Tulid kangelase meelde,
Segasivad mõtted sompu,
Murdsid meele muredelle.
Kalevite kallim poega
Tahtis tasaselta sõudes
Saare rannast mööda sõita,
Kartis isa kurvastada,
Hella eite ehmatada,
Kes veel lille leinasivad,
Neidu noorta nuttasivad.
Kuule, kuule, mis sealt kostab,
Mis seal laulab lainte langul?
Eks see ole piiga helin,
Neitsikese noore laulu,
Kadund kana kõõrutused,
Mis seal tõuseb lainetesta,
Kerkib vaiksest vetevoodist?
Kalevipoeg sulges sõudu,
Pani aerud ääre peale,
Paadi serva puhkamaie,
Hakkas lugu kuulamaie.
Piiga vari vete peidust
Helkis aga lainetesta,
Vilistas kui vesilindu,
Pajatas kui pardikene:
"Neiu läks merre kiikumaie,
Lainetesse laulemaie,
Laps läks meelta lahutama,
Ülekohtu unustama,
Kurbusida kustutama.
Veli sõidab vete veerul,
Sõidab laia lainetella,
Sõsar suigub salasängis
Peidukambri sügavuses.
Mis seal läigib lainetessa,
Mis seal välgub vete pinnal;
Mõõka läigib lainetessa,
Veri välgub vete pinnal;
Paneb lained lõkendama,
Neiu palged punetama.
Oh sa venda vereahne,
Armul eksind poisikene!
Miks sa vagalista verda
Vihal läksid valamaie?
Miks sa kodukanakesta,
Oma taadi tuvikesta
Murul pidid muljumaie?
Läksin merre kiikumaie,
Lainetesse laulemaie,
Laps läks meelta lahutama,
Ülekohut unustama,
Kurbusida kustutama.
Mis seal läikis lainetelta?
Veri läikis lainetelta.
Veli sõitis vete pinnal,
Mõrtsukmõõka läikis puusas,
Veri välkus mõõga küljes,
Pani lained lõkendama,
Neiu palged punetama,
Närtsind lille õilmitsema.
Sõsar suigub salasängis
Vete vilu vaiba alla,
Lainte kätki kiigutusel.
Oh sa vereahne venda,
Armul eksind poisikene!
Miks sa vagalista verda
Vihal läksid valamaie?
Miks sa kodukanakesta,
Oma taadi tuvikesta
Murul pidid muljumaie,
Noore rahu raiskamaie,
Sõsarada sundimaie
Surmasängi suikumaie?
Kahekordne verevõlga
Velje rahu rikkumassa.
Veli aga sõidab vete pinnal,
Sõsar suigub salasängis,
Vete vilu vaiba alla,
Lainekätki kiigutusel.
Veljel rasket võitlemista,
Rasket võla vastamista
Vaga vere vaigistuseks,
Ülekohtu kustutuseks,
Liiatööde lepituseks,
Mis ta korra kogemata,
Teise korra tahtemata
Võlakoormaks veeretanud.
Oh sa vilets veljekene,
Pikk on sinu võlapõlvi!
Läksin, neidu noorukene,
Merekalda mängimaie,
Lainetesse laulemaie,
Paha tuju puistamaie:
Sinna ma, kana, kadusin,
Sinna surin, linnukene,
Sinna, noori, ma nõrkesin,
Sinna, lilleke, närtsisin!
Ära nuta, eidekene!
Ära kaeba, taadikene!
Merella on minul kodu,
Lainte all mul salatare,
Kalakudus kambrikene,
Mereudus pesakene,
Minul on vilussa sängi,
Kena kätki lainetessa;
Kalevid mind kiigutavad,
Sulevid mind suigutavad.
Oh sa vilets vennakene,
Pikk on sinu võlapõlvi!
Oh sa vilets veteveerel:
Millal sindki sängitakse,
Rahurüppe uinutakse
Pikast piinast puhkamaie?" -
Närtsind neitsi leinalaulud,
Kalli varju kaebamised,
Mõistusõnad lainte sängist,
Pajatused mere põhjast
Kurvastasid Kalevida,
Nukrastasid noorta meesta.
Leinameelel luulemised
Sigitasid igatsusi,
Kasvatasid kahetsusi.
Möödaläinud aja lendu,
Soome sepa poja surma,
Mis kui unenäokuju
Koidul korra keeritelles
Äkitselta ära kadus,
Võind ei Kalev kinnitada,
Sünd′nut teha sündimatuks.
Tema võttis mõlad kätte,
Hakkas uuest aerutama,
Kodu poole sõudemaie.
Tuulehoogu tõukas tagant,
Laine lükkas lustilikult
Veeretelles Viru poole;
Vete pinnal mängis mõla
Sõudja sunnil kiirustelles,
Teine käsi pidas tüüri,
Et ei paati teelta pääseks.
Kalevite poega laulis:
"Kus on leina lepikuida,
Ahastuse haavikuida,
Kurvastuse kuusikuida,
Kahetsuse kaasikuida?
Kus ma leinan, kasvab lepik,
Kus ma ahastan, seal haavik,
Kus olen kurba, kasvab kuusik,
Kahetsejat varjab kaasik.
Oh minu hella eidekene,
Kes mind armul kasvatasid,
Käte peal mind kiigutasid,
Suu juures suigutasid:
Pidid üksi suremaie,
Nägemata närtsimaie!
Kes sul vaotas silmad kinni,
Kes sul litsus kulmud kokku?
Sinilill sul sulges silmad,
Kastehein sul kattis kulmud.
Oh mu hella eidekene!
Sinilillel salaokkad,
Kasteheinal karvad karedad.
Oh mu hella eidekene!
Kuidas sa mind kasvatasid,
Kasvatasid, kallistasid,
Üles tõstsid, hüpatasid,
Maha panid, mängitasid,
Suu juures suigutasid,
Kahel käel kiigutasid!
Mõtlesid toeks tulevat,
Arvasid abiks astuvat,
Lootsid elu lõpetusel
Laugelangutajat saavat,
Silmakatjat siginevat."
Tuulehoogu tõukas tagant,
Laine lükkas lustilikult
Veeretelles Viru poole.
Juba koitu kerkimassa,
Päevatera tõusu ligi,
Kui ta paati parajasti
Kodukalda vastu keeras.
Kalevite kallim poega
Laskis lootsiku kaldale,
Köitis ahelate kütke
Paadikesta parve äärde;
Kargas ise kalda peale,
Tahtis kohe kodu poole
Sammusida seadaneda,
Vendi minna vaatamaie,
Kas ehk vennad Viru rajal
Ema jälgesida leidnud.
Kalevipoeg, kangelane,
Jõudis Iru mäe harjale,
Kuhu taaralaste tarkus
Eite kaljuks karastanud.
Vaiki, vaiki, vahva meesi!
Pea kinni, pojukene!
Kas sa kuuled kentsakada,
Mis seal kostab kauge′elta?
Mis seal helkis õhtu hõlmal,
Mis seal tuules vilisteli?
Nii kui loodud laulukene,
Inimese häälekene
Kostab tuule kohinasta.
Kalevipoeg, kangelane,
Pöörab kõrvad kuulu poole,
Kus need hääled ärkanekse.
Nägemata laulunäkki,
Tuuleema tütar noori
Laskis laulu ladusasti
Kuulja kõrva kukutelles:
"Kodunt lendas kõvernokka,
Pesast kotka parem poega,
Lendas leinal luigekene,
Kurbusikkes kukekene;
Lendas kallis kotkapoega
Vaga rada rändamaie,
Eide jälgi otsimaie;
Tiivad linnulla tugevad,
Küüned kotkalla kiskujad.
Kena, lendas ta kodunta,
Ilus, isa õue pealta,
Nii kui pisar veereb pilvest,
Lumi langeb lagedalle,
Kui see hernes heidab õilme,
Kui see uba oma kaotab,
Lillakas lehti lahutab,
Pihlakas puistab kobaraid,
Taga välja toomeoksad.
Nõnda lindu kodunt lendas,
Tetri teisile vesile,
Hani muile allikaile.
Taara targal tahtemisel
Olid lese leinapäevad,
Pikalised piinapäevad
Õnnelikult õhtu saanud.
Kotkapoega, kõvernokka,
Kuis sul rada koju rändab?
Kena, lendsid sa kodunta,
Ilus, isa õue pealta.
Kotkapoja raudaküüned
Valasivad vaga verda,
Raiskasivad neiu rahu.
Kahekordne verevõlga
Piinab kotkapojukesta,
Koormab südant kõvernokal.
Ema pistab rinna suhu,
Aga meelt ei pista pähe!
Hoia, kotkas, kõvernokka,
Hoia ennast mõõga eesta:
Veri ihkab vere palka!
Või ei enam kaljueite
Pikemalta pajatada."
Nõnda laulis tuule tiival
Eide vaimu varjukene.
Kalevite kallim poega
Märkas laulu mõistatusest,
Kuidas kallis eidekene
Kooljasängi kolletanud;
Märkas laulu mõistatusest,
Kuidas tema Soome sõidul
Kahevõrra kurja teinud:
Eksind korra kogemata,
Teise korra teademata.
Kalevipoeg, kangelane,
Kiirusteli kodu poole;
Jõudis isa õue alla,
Jõudis vainu väravalle,
Koerad õues haukumaie.
Vennad tulid väravasse,
Tulid võõrast vaatamaie.
Kui nad nooremada nägid,
Keda arvasid kadunud,
Tulid vennad imestelles
Tulijada tunnistama,
Kellel uhke mõõka puusas,
Kuldakannuksed saapassa.
Kes see jõuaks küsimisi
Kõiki korral kuulutada,
Mis siin vennad kolmekesi
Isekeskis kõnelesid?
Teisel õhtul istusivad
Kanged mehed kolmekesi,
Sahkasivad sõnumida,
Kuidas eide otsimisel
Igaühel käsi käinud.
Vanem venda pajatelles
Laskis laulu lendamaie:
"Läksin eite otsimaie,
Kadund kana püüdemaie,
Läksin, käisin tüki teeda,
Tüki teeda, palju maada,
Käisin tüki tühja maada,
Seitse versta seda maada,
Kümme versta Kuramaada,
Poole versta Poolamaada,
Viis versta Vene radada,
Sada versta Saksamaada,
Tuhat sammu Turjamaada.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Tuli mulle vastu tinaneidu,
Tinast tehtud tütarlapsi,
Tinasta suu, tinast silmad,
Tinast kael ja tinast keha,
Tinast käiksed käessa.
Mina tinaselt küsima:
"Kas sa nägid eide jälgi,
Tedrepoja teederada?"
Tina ei teadnud küsimist
Ega mõistnud vastust anda:
Tina tuima kui see kivi,
Saand ei suuda maigutada.
Mina kiirest′ kihutama,
Lasin sammud sõudemaie
Tüki teed ja palju maada,
Käisin tüki tühja maada,
Seitse versta seda maada,
Kaheksa kaljumägesid.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Tuli mulle vastu vaskineidu,
Vasest valatud piigake.
Vasest suu, vasest silmad,
Vasest kael ja vasest keha,
Vaski peast kuni varbani,
Vaskivammus neiu seljas,
Vaskivarruksed vammuksel.
Mina vaselta küsima:
"Kas ehk nägid teederada,
Kuhu kodukana kadund,
Tedretütar tuisku läinud?"
Vask ei teadnud küsimist
Ega mõistnud vastust anda;
Vaski tuima kui see kivi,
Saand ei suuda maigutada.
Mina kiirest′ kihutama,
Lasksin sammud sõudemaie
Tüki teed ja palju maada;
Käisin tüki tühja maada,
Kaheksa kaljumägeda,
Sada versta samblasooda.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Tuli mulle vastu hõbeneidu,
Hõbedast valatud piigake,
Hõbedast suu, hõbedast silmad,
Hõbedasta kõik see keha
Peast kuni varba′ani;
Hõbekuube, hõbekäiksed,
Hõbekirjad käikseilla.
Mina hõbedalt küsima:
"Kas ehk nägid teederada,
Kuhu kodukana kadund,
Tedretütar tuisku läinud?"
Hõbe ei teadnud küsimist
Ega mõistnud vastust anda.
Hõbe külma kui see kivi,
Saand ei suuda maigutada,
Hõbekeel ei häälitseda.
Mina kiirest′ kihutama,
Lasksin sammud sõudemaie
Tüki teed ja palju maada;
Käisin tüki tühja maada,
Seitse versta seda maada,
Kaheksa kaljumägeda,
Sada versta samblasooda.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Tuli mulle vastu kuldaneidu,
Kuldane kuningatütar.
Kullast suu, kullast kulmud,
Kullast kaela, kullast keha,
Kulda peasta varba′ani.
Kullast käiksed käessa,
Kuldakirjad käikseilla,
Kullast kuube, kullast kübar,
Kuldne krooni kübaralla.
Mina kullalta küsima:
"Kas ehk nägid teederada,
Kuhu kodukana kadund,
Tedretütar tuisku läinud?"
Kulda mõistis, kostis kohe,
Kuldanokka aga kukkus:
"Mine raatmaa radadelle,
Kihuta kanarbikule,
Sealtap leiad lihast neidu,
Kes see sulasuul kõneleb."
Mina kiirest′ kihutama,
Lasksin sammud lendamaie,
Jalavarbad veeremaie.
Käisin tüki tühja maada,
Seitse versta rabasooda,
Kaheksa karja-aruda,
Kümme versta künnimaada;
Sealt sain raatmaa radadelle,
Kanarbiku keske′elle.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Tuli mulle vastu kena neidu,
Ema rüpest sündind piiga,
Palged punapaisudella,
Silmad eluhiilgusella.
Mina neiult nõudemaie,
Kõrgerinnalta küsima:
"Kas ehk nägid teederada,
Kuhu kodukana kadund,
Tedretütar tuisku läinud?"
Kena neidu kohe mõistis,
Piiga lahkesti pajatas:
"Ei ma näinud, hella venda,
Kana jälgi kanarbikus,
Tedre rada teises paigas.
Võib ehk kulli kana viinud,
Kotkas tedre ära kannud.
Tule, venda, meie talu
Kodukanasid kosima;
Meil on vägi valgepäida,
Suurem seltsi sõstrasilmi,
Karjakene käharpäida,
Seitse kena sõlgirinda,
Kümme kulda-pärjakandjat,
Kakskümmend kaunist helmeskaela,
Sada siidiriidelista."
Mina mõistsin, kostsin vastu:
"Ei või tulla, tütar noori!
Ei ma ole kosjaskäija,
Neiuradadel rändaja;
Otsin kadund eide jälgi,
Metsa läinud memmekesta." -
Teine venda pajatelles,
Laskis laulu lendamaie:
"Läksin eite otsimaie,
Kadund kana püüdemaie,
Läksin, käisin tüki teeda,
Tüki teeda, palju maada,
Tallasin tüki lagedaid,
Sammusin suurta sooda mööda,
Käisin jõekallast mööda,
Mõne versta mööda metsi.
Mis mul sealta vastu tuli?
Sealt tuli vastu väike sauna.
Mina sauna ukse ette:
"Tere, eite, tere, taati!
Tulge teeda juhtimaie!"
Eit ei kostnud, taat ei kostnud,
Musta kassi näugus nurgas.
Mina kiirest′ kihutama,
Lasksin sammud sõudemaie,
Läksin, käisin tüki teeda,
Tüki teeda, palju maada,
Tallasin tüki lagedaid,
Sammusin teise mööda sooda,
Käisin jõekallast mööda,
Mõne versta mööda metsi.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Tuli vastu metsakriimu.
Mina hundilta küsima:
"Kas ehk nägid, vennikene,
Metsas meie eide jälgi?"
Metsakriim ei mõistnud kosta,
Hundipoeg ei pajatada,
Vahtis aga võõritie,
Näitas hambaid irvitie.
Mina kiirest′ kihutama,
Lasksin sammud sõudemaie,
Läksin, käisin tüki teeda,
Tüki teeda, palju maada,
Tallasin tüki lagedaid,
Sammusin teise mööda sooda,
Käisin jõekallast mööda,
Mõne versta mööda metsi.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Tuli vastu vana karu.
Mina karulta küsima:
"Kas ehk nägid, vennikene,
Metsas meie eide jälgi?"
Karu ei mõistnud küsimist
Ega osand vastust anda;
Mis ta, mehike, mõmises,
Sest ei mõistnud mina sõna.
Mina kiirest′ kihutama,
Lasksin sammud sõudemaie,
Läksin, käisin tüki teeda,
Tüki teeda, palju maada,
Tallasin tüki lagedaid,
Sammusin teise sulasooda,
Käisin jõekallast mööda,
Mõne versta mööda metsi.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Tuli vastu kõrge kuuski,
Kuldakägu kuuse ladvas.
Mina käolta küsimaie:
"Kas ehk nägid, kuldanokka,
Metsas meie eide teeda?"
Kägu mõistis, kostis kohe,
Kuldanokka tõstis häälta:
"Mine laiast laanets läbi,
Sealt tuleb aru ilusa,
Aru taga kena kaasik,
Kaasiku keskel uhke talu;
Sealtap leiad neidusida,
Kes sull′ teavad vastust anda."
Mina kiirest′ kihutama,
Lasksin sammud lendamaie,
Läksin, käisin laanest läbi,
Sammusin üle arude,
Käisin läbi kaasikusta.
Mis mulle sealta vastu tuli?
Seal tuli vastu uhke talu,
Talus neli noorta neidu,
Neli kena kudruskaela.
Üks neist õmbles siidisärki,
Teine tikkis käiksekirja,
Kolmas kudus kuldavööda,
Neljas lõksutas lõuendit.
Nii kui tuulest tulitatud
Paistis tuba tulijalle,
Seinad seisid siidikattes,
Põrand puhtasti pühitud.
Mina lahkelt teretelles:
"Tere, neiud, nugissilmad!
Kas ehk teate teederada,
Kuhu kodukana kadund,
Tedretütar tuisku läinud?"
Kes see õmbles siidisärki,
See ei lausunud sõnada,
Kes see tikkis käiksekirja,
See ei teinud suuda lahti,
Kes see kudus kuldavööda,
Võttis lahkest tervist vastu,
Kes see lõksutas lõuendit,
See′ p see sõnarikkam oli,
See′ p see lahkesti sõnaldas:
"Käisin, kuld, küll karjateeda,
Käisin eile marjamaalla,
Toonaeile tagametsas,
Enne luhas loogu võtmas,
Ei ma näinud kana jälgi
Ega tedretütre teeda;
Vistist läksid nad lennulla,
Vistist võtnud tiival teeda.
Lase suvi mööda sõita,
Küllap siis tuleb sügise;
Võta kätte viinamärsid,
Pane kihlad kottidesse,
Mine kana kosimaie,
Teista tetre tabamaie!"
Mina mõistsin, vastu kostsin:
"Ega ma otsi noorta naista,
Taha ei teista tedrekesta,
Otsin kadund eide jälgi,
Ema armu radasida." -
Kolmas venda pajatama,
Kuidas tema otsikäigid
Kõik ka tühja tuulde läinud.
Tema sahkas saare käiki,
Sündind lugu Soome rajal,
Kuidas tuuslar, tuuletarka,
Surmasängi kolletanud,
Rääkis kalli mõõga kaupa,
Pikki liigupidusida;
Aga viimast verist riidu,
Sepa poja surmamista,
Saare piiga laintelaulu,
Eide laulu tuuleõhul
Ei ta rääkind vendadelle.
Vanem venda laskis sõna,
Laulu nõnda lendamaie:
"Taat meil magab kalmukünkas,
Sõmerliiva sõba alla,
Kaljukate pealla sängi;
Kuhu eide jalga eksind,
Mis tal kanda kinnitanud,
Seda võib ehk jumalikku
Taara tarkus üksi teada.
Kas on lesepõlve leina,
Kurvastuse kurnamine
Eite otsa lõpetanud?
Ehk kas viletsuse vägi,
Kosilase kimbutused
Vaga leske varga küüsil
Viinud võõra välja peale?
Ehk kas veteveeretused
Merepõhja pillutanud?
See meil kõigil teademata.
Vanematest varjutiiba,
Armukaisul haudumista
Meil ei kolmel enam loota.
Enda tiiva tugevusel
Peame, linnud, lendamaie.
Nüüdap tuleb taadi käsku
Isekeskis toimetada;
Laskem, vennad, liisku heita:
Kes meist tõuseb kuningaksi.
Nii oli taati enne surma
Eidekesta õpetanud."
Teine venda laskis sõna,
Laulu nõnda lendamaie:
"Sul on õigus, vennikene!
Kuidas kadund taadi tarkus
Tahtmist käsuks kinnitanud,
Nõnda loodud laste kohus
Asjalugu toimetada.
Noorem vend meil mehe-eane,
Tibukene tiivakandja,
Jõuab pesast purjetelles
Juba üle mere lenda:
Liisk siis saagu lihtimaie,
Asja otsust õiendama!"
Noorem venda laskis sõna,
Laulu nõnda lendamaie:
"Taat mul suri enne sündi,
Enne kui pääsin päevale,
Eite läinud eksiteele,
Viidi vaene ehk vaenulla.
Ema viidi uksestagi,
Armud läksid akkenasta,
Ema viidi teeda mööda,
Sõnad soojad sooda mööda;
Kuhu kana kukutati,
Tedretütre hauda tehti,
Sinna armud kalda alla
Talvekülma tarretasid;
Ema hauda heidetie,
Armurüpe hangus ära.
Meie, vennad kolmekesi,
Vanemata vaesedlapsed,
Peame taadi käsku püüdma
Tõrkumata toimetada.
Lähme homme liiskumaie,
Rammukaupa katsumaie,
Õnnekaupa otsimaie,
Kes meist Taara tahtmist mööda
Valitsusevõimust võtab!"
Igal mehel isemõtted,
Ise salasoovimised
Südametes siginemas:
Lootus liisuõnne peale,
Kartus õnne kaotamisest.
Õhtul, hämariku ajal,
Videviku viivitusel
Veeres üksi noorem venda,
Kurval sammul kõndidessa
Kadund isa haua peale;
Nuturätik noorel käessa,
Pisararätik pihussa,
Astub isa haua peale,
Istub kalmukünka peale.
Isa hauasta küsima:
“Kes see liigub peale liiva,
Kes see astub peale haua,
Sõtkub sammul sõmeraida
Kiigutelles kalmukivi?”
Poega mõistis, kostis vastu:
“Poega liigub peale liiva,
Poega astub peale haua.
Noorem poega, taadikene,
Keda sinu silm ei näinud,
Tallab sammul sõmeraida
Kiigutelles kalmukivi.
Tõuse üles, taadikene!
Tõuse armu andemaie,
Poja peada silitama;
Tõuse rammu toetama,
Sõna kolme kostemaie!”
Taati mõistis, kostis vastu:
“Ei või tõusta, poega noori,
Ei või tõusta, ei ärata.
Katki olen kaelaluusta,
Pihupõrmu põlveluusta,
Muru kasvand peale mulla,
Aruheina peale haua,
Sammal kasvand peale kalju,
Sinililled silma peale,
Angervaksad jalgadelle.
Tuleb tuuli, toob ju armu,
Tuleb päeva, pead silitab.”
Poega kurvalt kostis vastu:
“Tundideks on tuule armu,
Päevadeks on päeva armu,
Eluajaks Taara armu,
Isa armu igavesti.”
Taati kostis mulla alta,
Armukeelilla kalmusta:
“Ära kurda, pojukene,
Ära nuta, noorukene!
Kadund isa vari valvab
Kalmust vaga lapse käiki.
Jumalate juhatusel
Jooksvad elujoonekesed,
Voolavad õnnelainekesed.
Kogemata kuritegu
Püüa jälle parandada!”

Source Colophon

Estonian source text from Project Gutenberg eBook of Kalevipoeg by Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald (EBook #25062). The text is in the public domain. Presented here alongside the English translation for verification and scholarship.

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