The Lot and the Plough

Canto VIII is the canto of kingship and sacrifice. Having agreed at the end of Canto VII to cast lots for the throne their father commanded them to fill, the three sons of Kalev set out to find a fitting place. Along the way, a farmstead father and mother mistake them for suitors and bring out their daughters — silk-ribboned, gold-belted, dancing — but all three brothers refuse. They are fortune-seekers, not bridegrooms.

By a lake where the Emajõgi flows tireless toward Peipsi, beneath the gaze of Taara's sacred grove, the brothers cast their lots by throwing stones across the water. The elder's stone flies to the sky's edge but sinks into the lake's depths. The second's lands half-submerged at the shore. The youngest, Kalevipoeg — strongest despite being youngest, born in great travail to a widowed mother — throws last: his stone clears the lake and lands on dry ground. Heaven's will is declared. The brothers crown him with gold and iron, and the two elder brothers depart singing farewell — "from our eyes rolls blood, our faces gone pale" — into the wide world to seek their fortune where the cuckoo calls.

Left alone at the lake's edge, the new king takes up the ploughshare and performs what reads as a cosmogonic ploughing: he turns marsh into farmland, wasteland into grain-land, sows blueberries in the bogs and strawberries on the hills, ploughs forests to rise and flowers to bloom. His sweat soaks into the earth and becomes healing springs — whoever drinks finds nourishment, the sickly find health, the blind find sight. But during a noonday rest, his fettered horse wanders into the ancient forest. Wolves, bears, and foxes smell the sweat and descend. The hobbled horse fights bravely — killing with forehoof and kicking with hind — but the fetters that were meant to keep it safe become the chains that doom it. In dying, the horse's body creates the Estonian landscape: hollows where hooves fell, hillocks where it fought, pools from blood, a mountain from liver, a marsh from entrails, rushes from hair, reeds from mane, hazel bushes from the tail. The sacrificial horse is an Indo-European motif reaching back to the Vedic aśvamedha — the king's horse that must die so the kingdom can live.

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.

The Singer's Invocation

Heaven's candle, evening star,
Twilight's clearest eye,
Look from the cloud-eyelid's slit,
From beneath heaven's high brow,
Upon the singer's pathways,
Upon the kantele-player's steps!

Silently your eye has watched
The changes of remembered ages,
Watched Taara's oak groves,
The beautiful sacred trees
In their greening leaf-finery;
Watched the glint of Mother's waves
On the sunlight's shining face,
Watched the Mother's flowing,
The coursing of murmuring waters
Loosening from winter's breast.

Surely you, dear star-daughter,
Heaven's slender maiden,
Saw the brothers setting out
When they went to cast lots!
Surely you saw the ploughman,
The kingly son of Kalev,
Ploughing the rich Viru field,
The steadfast Järva field
With a strong hand,
When he ploughed great islands,
Great islands, high hills,
Turned wide flatlands,
Reed-beds in the marshes,
Mountains between the furrows,
Hills humped upon the field,
Valleys amid the heights.

Surely you, dear star-maiden,
Saw the hero's ploughing!

Should I perhaps be lacking
Song-spinning threads,
Twisted golden speech,
Silver spindle's castings,
Surely the stars will show the way,
Heaven wise paths.

If I still lack for words,
Still at home remain bag-fulls,
On the oven mitten-fulls,
On the beam yet fist-fulls,
In the chest shoe-heel-fulls.

If I should still be lacking,
Surely I'll gather from the heather,
Pick from the wasteland's paths,
Strip additions from the thicket,
From the yellowed hayrick,
Gather from the dewgrass,
From the grain-stalk's stems,
Rake together from the chaff,
From the sweepings of the rubbish.

When I begin to compose the tale,
Begin singing outright,
Proclaiming the son of Kalev,
Then the parish stops to watch,
The village to listen like gold,
The gentry to stand at the edges,
The manor-crowds to ponder,
To hear my words,
My song-spinnerings.

A wiser age comes after,
A better feast in our generation;
Then I sing old songs,
Spin the singer's stories,
Roll out old melodies —
What I reckoned from Harju,
What I drew from Viru,
What I redeemed from Lääne,
What I caught from Taara's sacred grove.

There I sing fire into the blizzard,
Fragrance into the snowdrift,
Set the very clouds ablaze,
The snowflakes glowing.

So it was in old Viru's way,
The nature of Järva's singers.

When I sing the story straight,
Proclaim the son of Kalev,
Reveal what has been:
How much can a horse carry,
How much a camel lift,
Or a flax-maned one move?
Could Kalev's horse bear,
Alev's grey steed,
Alone my song-loads,
The golden burdens of the telling.

The Brothers Set Out

On the second day, at dawn's edge,
In the dim light of small dawn,
The sons of Kalev arose
To walk in three,
To roam on a pleasure-walk:
Whether perhaps somewhere by chance
A more fitting lot-casting place,
A fortune-testing ground,
At the wish of secret desires
Their eyes might spy.

The young sons of Kalev
Wandered with strong strides
Merrily southward,
Rested in the forest's shade
Their weary limbs at times,
Took food for sustenance,
Tongue-moistener for refreshment.

The Farmstead

When the beautiful little evening came,
The fair twilight rolled in,
They found a farmstead by the road,
A household among the lindens.

Three strong men together
Stepped down into the yard.
Father met them at the gate,
Mother met them at the door.

Father calls from the gate,
Mother lifts her warm voice:
"Step in, men, to the yard,
Come, bridegrooms, to our farm,
Suitors, into the chamber!
You, noble suitors,
Dear sons of Kalev,
We have noble ones to court,
A wise father's daughters,
Maidens blooming from the grove.
You have gold in your packs,
Silver beads at your breasts,
Pennies in your purses,
Old thalers in your pockets.
We have chests piled high,
Gift-baskets prepared."

The elder brother answered:
"We are not suitor-walkers,
Not treading the bridegroom's road.
We are wayfarers on empty roads,
We are fortune-seekers;
The house yet unbuilt,
Chamber-corners yet unstrung,
Bed-boards yet unsawn
Where the hen might be led."

Father understood, replied:
"Do not take it as anger,
Nor take it amiss:
Bridegrooms you are, tricksters!
Why silk shirts on your backs,
Gold-brocade for other garments?
How did you know to come here,
How found your way to the yard?
No sign on the mound,
No mark on the fence-post
That here hens are growing,
Partridges rising from the earth.

"Sheltered children in the buildings
Grew in secret chambers,
Wove golden cloth,
Tied silken ribbons,
Gold-gloves on their hands,
Silver rings on their fingers,
Great brooches on their breasts,
Precious thalers round their necks.

"You come in gold's sorrow,
You ride in the brooch's sorrow."

The second brother answered:
"Listen, wise little father,
Listen, warm little mother!
Let the maidens out to the open,
The girls to the evening's beauty,
Let them play on the meadow,
Shrieking under the swing!
Let the gifts remain ungiven,
Your gold unspent!"

Then the daughters were brought from the house,
Brought, the dear ones, from the chamber:
Their belts were gold-spiraled,
Their crowns sparkled with sequins,
Silk trains like rain
Hung long from their waists,
Silver beads, golden chains
Swayed around their necks,
Great brooches on their breasts;
When they danced forward
The silk ribbons fluttered,
Flashing to their toes;
When they danced backward
They leaped to their heels.

Mother cried over the threshold:
"These daughters have done their work,
Long woven at the loom,
Clattered at the cloth,
Beaten at the broadcloth,
Banged at the bobbin,
Wound silken stockings,
Cast the bright threads,
Adorned the precious cloths;
Have not dozed at smoke-time
Nor nodded while working.
From these come a wife for the sons of Kalev,
A hearth-hen for strong men."

The younger brother understood at once,
Cleverly replied:
"Hear, warm little mother,
Hear, wise little father!
The sons of Kalev's hearth-hens —
Those are still unhatched.
No, from us three, suitors
Shall not rise for your farm.
We go to seek our fortune,
Go to inherit a nest.

"Maidens, young ones!
Do not, dear ones, grieve!
Tears steal the blush from cheeks,
The moon steals the lustre of your coat,
The sun's blade steals the crown's lustre,
The twilight steals the necklace's row,
The stars steal the thaler's gleam
Before your own beloved finds you.
We walk the fortune-road,
Go by the gentle night's sorrow,
Walk by the golden moon's sorrow,
Walk by the stars' beauty,
By the sister's brooch's sorrow,
By the old cart's sorrow."

The Lake

The young sons of Kalev
Wandered with strong strides
Merrily southward,
Walked a day, walked two,
Walked a stretch of the third day,
Until they unexpectedly
Came upon a little lake
With fair high shores.

Beautiful was the lake in every way:
Geese playing on the waves,
Flocks of swans near the shore,
Ducks again in rafts below,
Grey birds on top of the rafts.

Gazing farther from the shore,
Against the day's slant there shone
Taara's beautiful little grove,
Greening from the ridge
With gleaming leaves.

In a fortunate valley flowed
The Emajõgi, tireless,
In the sunlight its wavelets
Rolling toward Peipsi.
Mother's breast milked forth increase,
Nourishment-milk into Peipsi's lap.

The Casting of Lots

The eldest son of Kalev
Set his word sailing,
Began to speak thus:

"Here is a fitting testing-place,
A proper lot-casting ground;
From the grove appears Taara's eye,
The Grandfather's kindly gaze,
From the river a godly shadow.

"Let us, brothers, cast lots:
Which of us three brothers
Shall become king at home,
Ruler of our father's realm,
Protector of the dear people?

"Who from far away, fortune-seeking,
In foreign lands shall take power,
Build a dwelling-place?"

Three stones were then gathered,
Chosen as lot-stones,
With which the men by the set rule
Had to make their throw —
Whose hand farthest
Could hurl the stone.

They took the victory-stones,
Carried them closer to the shore,
Settled in a row,
Three abreast at the water's edge.

As the victory's measure was set,
The lake's width as the target:
Whose stone in light flight
Sharply over the wide lake,
A stretch farther than the others,
Rolls beyond the water —
That one by law
Must be chosen ruler.

The lost father's commands
Were vowed without defiance
To be fully carried out:
Two of them must go far,
Rolling to foreign lands;
The third brother to the homeland
To remain as ruler.

The elder brother, speaking,
Set his word sailing:

"Let us cast the lot!
My duty, dear brothers,
To strike first;
Mother, warm little mother,
Brought me at bird-cherry blossom-time
Earlier into this world,
Took me sooner to the bath,
To swell in the sunlight,
Brought me sweet berries
Before she brought them to you.

"Should perhaps your throw
Exceed my mark:
From that let no quarreling arise,
Nor enmity's hatred!

"I have no mark,
No sight set before my eye;
I must clear the path,
Make the road for the others.

"Where I spin the stone,
There I set the aim for you.
The follower finds tracks,
The one behind finds a made road.

"Whoever betters
The first deed's done work,
Let him go build a house,
Set walls together,
Weave the corner-beams,
Begin the roof-ridge
Where the winds have made a path:
Then he shall surely see
How blame with a broad tongue
Is quicker to find faults
Than to be wiser at the work itself."

When he had spoken at such length,
He began to spin the stone,
Raised his hand higher,
Sent the stone sailing,
Flying on a wing of wind.

The stone flew with the wind's speed,
With the wind's speed toward heaven.
In the watchers' estimation
The little stone-bird flew
There, where the sky's edge,
The world's great roof-ridge,
Joins the wall of the earth.
Suddenly wobbling,
The stone fell earthward,
Dropped in a plumb-line glide,
Fell into the lake's wet bed
Near the opposite shore.

Roaring, the water surged,
Foaming toward heaven;
The stone struck the lake's bottom,
Under the water-veil's cover,
Fell into the waves' depths,
Vanished from the watchers' eyes.

The second brother, speaking,
Set his words sailing:

"My brother has made the road,
Already cleared the path before me,
Built the house before me,
Set the room's walls together,
Woven the corner-beams,
Begun the roof-ridges;
Therefore I wish along the aim
To follow his road."

When he had spoken thus,
He took the stone in his strong hand,
Spun it with a swifter hiss,
Threw it with a sharper whistle —
The stone-bird to fly,
The boulder to sail.

The stone rose toward heaven,
Sought to scatter the clouds,
To shade the sunlight.

At wind-speed the stone flew,
Higher, farther;
Then it veered wobbling,
Tumbling earthward,
Fell at the lakeshore's edge,
Between water and dry land;
Half the stone was buried in water,
Covered by the waves,
Half still showing to the eye.

Now the victory-throwing
Became the third brother's test.

Though less in age,
Poorer in years than the others,
The dearest son of Kalev —
Yet in the breadth of his body,
In the width of his shoulder-blades,
In the firmness of his frame,
He was stronger than the others,
He was mightier than his brothers;
The sinews of his hands were harder,
His fingernails were firmer,
His eye's aim was truer,
His wit was sharper.

The younger brother, speaking,
Set his words sailing:

"Mother, warm little mother,
Brought me, the late lamb,
Into this world in great death,
In great death, in harsh travail
Was born the widow's grief-child.

"Mother, warm little mother,
How many nights without sleep,
How many dawns without food,
How many days without noon-meal;
The fire did not go out from the house,
Nor the spark from the bedpost.

"Mother from her good clothes,
The grey horse from its harness;
The grey rode the healer's road,
The woman sought wise-women,
The brindle walked ten roads,
The steed many paths,
The woman to the houses of the wise.

"Seeking help for the child,
Cry-stoppers for the weak one,
Strength-givers for the feeble;
Gave a lamb to the charm-speaker,
A goat to the navel-cutter,
A spotted one to the bath-beater,
Another to the bristle-worker,
Gave a thaler to the wise one,
Promised another to the healer.

"She sang early, sang late:
Be still, young son!
Grow for me into a herd-boy,
Rise to be a bull-keeper,
Stretch to be a cattle-herder,
Grow, son, into a ploughman,
Straighten into a brave warrior!

"The son grew for a long time,
A long time, many days;
Already several summers pass,
Five haying-seasons roll by,
When I in father's yard
Swung merrily on the swing,
Upon one bird-cherry's blossom,
Upon two birch-crowns,
Upon the alder's broad leaf,
Upon the hazel's heart.

"Already the bird-cherry shed its blossoms,
The birch already lost its leaves,
Alder-leaves flew,
The hazel's heart rained down.

"But from me grew a man,
Grew a son of Kalev."

The younger brother took the stone,
Spun it with the wind's roar,
Threw with a keener whistle
The stone-bird to fly,
The boulder to sail;
His keen eye aimed the course,
His strong hand set the path.

Though in the wind's bluster
The stone flew higher,
Higher, farther:
It did not go to scatter clouds,
Nor to part the wideness,
Did not go to shake the heights,
Nor to shadow the light.

The stone rolled whistling,
Flew over the wide lake,
Onto the other side's shore,
Fell by the measure's reckoning
Down onto dry borders.

The elder brother spoke:
"Let us go, brothers, truly,
Let us go with wading strides,
Let us go through the puddle
To see the victory-stones,
Where those stones have fallen!"

The nearer way went through water,
The closer path through the lake;
From there the sons of Kalev
Waded the wading-path,
From there journeyed the road
To see the victory-stones.

At the lake's middle, the water
Reached the son of Kalev to the shin.

The first brother's stone
Slept under the wave-veil's shelter,
Slumbered in the lake's depth;
No eye could see it,
Nor hand touch it.

The second brother's victory-stone
Was found near the shore's edge,
Between water and dry land;
Half still showing to the open,
Half hidden in the waves.

The third brother's stone,
The victory-throw's mark,
Was found alone on the dry shore,
Found sleeping on the grass,
A stretch of land farther than the rest.

There the stone had fallen,
Signifying heaven's will:
Which of the three brothers
Must be called king.

The Crowning

The elder brother, speaking,
Set his words sailing:

"By divine guidance
Signs were made upon the sand,
Marks were placed upon the grass:
Which of us by father's command
Shall be chosen as ruler,
Raised as king.

"Let us fetch water from the lake
With which to bathe our brother,
To refresh our brother's body,
To baptize him as king!

"Let us dress his body fair,
Smooth his hair sleek;
Gold-brocade coat on his back,
Silver shirt beneath the coat,
Vest of finest copper;
Set a golden cap upon his head,
Iron shield upon his breast —
Then from brother comes a warrior,
Grows a mighty victor:

"Where his step reaches,
There silk must rustle,
Precious gold must ring,
Silver chime behind,
Copper at his heel must rattle.

"Where now our brother walks,
There beauty shall shine."

As old Kalev had commanded,
Had ordained before his death,
So the younger brother was taken
As ruler of the fatherland,
Raised as king.

The Farewell

The other brothers raised a song,
Set their voices ringing:
"Let us, brothers, go wandering,
Walking, the two of us;
Let us go to seek our fortune,
Where for us the cuckoo of fortune calls,
The pleasure-bird sings in answer!"

The younger brother sang in answer:
"Where the sun is shining,
Where the moon is gleaming,
Stars showing the way,
There grow golden spruce forests,
Leafy beautiful alder groves,
There grow precious birch forests,
Rise Taara's oak groves.

"There calls the cuckoo of fortune,
The pleasure-bird sings in answer.

"Where the cuckoo of fortune calls,
There build your room-walls;
Where the pleasure-bird sings,
There build a chamber,
Make a silken bed within;
Where perhaps the sorrow-bird sings,
There make the widow's sauna,
The orphan's little shelter!"

The other brothers spoke:
"Farewell, young brother,
Lot-glued king!

"Farewell, nesting-place,
Dear brooding-ground
Where we, men, grew,
Where we rose like oaks!

"Now the youth-meadows weep,
The western alder-groves mourn
Where the roosters grew.
No eye-water rolls from us —
The songbird has more tears;
From our eyes rolls blood,
Our faces gone pale,
Sorrow on our brows,
Mourning-clouds on our eyelids.

"But let winter pass quietly,
Surely it wears toward spring,
Surely it melts toward summer.

"Rivers will begin to run,
Springs begin to branch,
Blossoms pressing from their sheaths,
Birds singing in the treetops;
Then the river will reach the place
Where the homestead awaits us,
The spring-stream will reach the place
Where we build the house,
Raise the building's walls;
The blossom's beauty will shine there
Where we build the bridal chamber;
Birdsong will fall there
Where the maidens are growing,
Brooch-breasted ones ripening.

"Farewell, Taara's garden,
Beautiful little Emajõgi!
Farewell, mountains and valleys,
Fatherland's forests and flatlands!

"A child weans from the mother's breast,
The small one from the love-embrace;
A man must wean from all,
Leave behind the sweeter.

"The world is wide and generous,
The sky is high-vaulted;
For the strong no pressure arises,
For the mighty no constraint."

The King Alone

So the brothers wandered away,
Birds left the nest,
Left their brother at the lake's edge
Alone upon the grass,
Left him alone to long for
The better days of youth,
The beauty of the father's house,
The blessings of a mother's love —
All vanished like dew,
Scattered by the wind's breath,
Burnt away by the day's heat.

Sitting on the stone's hump,
The man began to think:

"What has gone from the meadows,
Rolled from the blossoming fields
With summer's step sailing on —
From that must come seeds
For the coming days' fire.

"When I was made king,
Chosen as ruler,
I had to flee the nest,
Fly to the open,
Where a born eagle-son
Must tread the winds
On his own wing the fortune-road,
Blaze his own trails."

He threw silver whiteness into the water
As an offering to the waves,
To appease the water-spirit,
As the old people's command
Had taught the young —
What our men today do not understand,
Nor the wise women mark.

The Ploughing

After the victory-throw,
The parting from the brothers,
The son of Kalev took
The reins of power in hand,
Took the ploughshare in hand,
Honoring the plough-work,
The ploughman's station.

And so that the ploughmen's state
Would always flower in peaceful days,
Unstained by war's clamor,
Uncolored by enemy-blood,
For that a fine sword
Is needed for the king's strength
In every place:
Support against invaders,
Shield against the enemy,
With which to punish evil,
To reduce enmity's hatred,
To mend the realm's law.

The dearest son of Kalev,
Pack on his back, sword at his hip,
Set the plough on the shafts,
Put the horse before the plough,
Harnessed the steed to the ploughing;

Began to plough the marsh,
To plough the dry land,
To turn the stubble-surface.

Ploughed the soil-surface to dust,
Mixed the stones to gravel,
Mixed the clay to seed-bearer,
The dust to sprout-nurse;

Ploughed places into farmland,
Into mighty grain-land,
Other places into pasture-land,
Meadow-land, hay-land;

Sowed blueberries in the marsh,
Cranberries in the moss's lap,
Cloudberries in the tussock's bosom,
Bilberries in some places.

Ploughed places into forest-land,
Wide places into wilderness-land,
Sowed forests to grow,
Tall oaks to rise,
Thickets to swell;

Ploughed places into flatlands,
Wide heaths, wide meadows
Into merry rambling-places;

Ploughed hills to play,
Little knolls to sway;

Ploughed valleys, tilled groves,
Low meadows, water-meadows to green;

Sowed strawberries on the hill,
Lingonberries under the bush;

Ploughed flowers to grow,
Blossoms to bloom in beauty.

Ploughed the land rising,
Rising, swelling,
Ploughed the fields into stripes
With the mighty plough's command,

What was smoothed by wind,
Rolled by rainwater,
Stroked by melting snow,
Ironed by hailstones.

By the ploughshare's grace
The grain would flow,
Food would rise abundantly,
Swelling from generation to generation
For the mortal lineages.

The dearest son of Kalev
Ploughed a day, ploughed two,
Ploughed a third day,
Ploughed on for several days;
Ploughed early on the mist's trail,
Ploughed late at the dew's edge,
Ploughed straight through the noon-hour.

The Death of the Horse

The sun's fierce heat
Drained the precious steed,
Wearied the plough-puller,
Tortured the ploughman's frame.

The horse endured horsefly torment,
The midges' stinging,
Endured the gadfly's goading
At the work's side to suffer.

The man's tongue dried
In his mouth from great thirst.

One noonday the sun shone
With fiercer radiance.
The heat began to oppress,
Threatened to finish the beast.

Kalevipoeg freed the horse,
The steed from the trace-chain,
Fettered its legs in hobbles
So the horse would not run far.

He lay down on his side
To refresh his weary body,
To stretch his strained limbs,
To ease his back-sinews,
Sank into sleep's bonds,
Resting in the sunlight.

His neck rested on the hillock's hump,
His right hand propped his head
Like a pillow beneath his cheek;
The hill beside the man's body,
Legs spread across the flatland.

So slept the son of man,
The nursling of strong men,
Slept long in the grass-bed,
Until the sun on its evening turn
Was already sinking toward the slope.

The fierce drought-heat tortured
The sleeper in sleep's embrace,
The dozer in the peace-bed,
Made his skin steam,
His flesh sweat all over,
His face roll water.

From his cheeks rose droplets;
The sweat that ran from his hair
The hill drank like sap
Into its secret bosom's depths;
From there sprang little veins,
Springs beneath the earth,
From which came tongue-quenching,
Worn body's refreshment
For the sons of later generations,
For the daughters of coming days,
Strength-moisture for the weary.

Who tastes of it finds nourishment,
Takes mightier power:
A stunted child finds growth,
A sickly one healing at once,
A dim eye finds sharpness,
A blind eye perhaps sight;
From the injured, pain ceases,
From the pain-bearer the pains,
The lingering torments.

The spring-water has a mighty power,
A secret power from its begetting,
Nourishing strength from Kalev.

Who once tasted the moisture there
In the drought-day's heat
Feels at once the strength
Stirring in the limbs,
Feels at once joy's might
Quickening in the heart.

On a maiden's cheek the blush swells,
More lasting than Mary's blush;
Mary's blush swells on the cheeks
On rare occasion for a year's while;
Kalev's spring-blush
Shines long from the cheeks,
Lasts till the evening of life.

The stalwart son of Kalev
Found at sleep's ending,
Through the spirit-sight's gate,
Misfortune's omen:
How the hobbled steed,
The precious plough-horse,
By the torment of predators
Was ending its life.

The steed had from the pasture,
From the wide meadow's open,
Gone, driven by the midges,
Oppressed by the horseflies,
Step by step farther
Into the thicket for hiding;
Gone to the wide forest's edge
Seeking a resting place,
Taking a shelter-place,
Drooping a little
To lessen the day's distress.

In the broad ancient forest
Bred many wolves,
Grew many predators,
Who like blood-greedy hounds
From afar already with sniffing snouts
Had scented the horse's sweat.

Wolves came in packs,
Bears in herds,
Foxes like hail
Rejoicing in the steed's fat,
Tasting the sweetness,
Came out to see,
To lurk at the forest's edge —
From where the smell to their snouts
A little wind-breath had brought.

Kalev's precious steed,
The hobble-roped little horse,
Leaped on fettered hooves,
With bond-tied steps,
Hopping on horse-legs
Onto the wide flatland,
Tried to flee from peril,
To sail from death's mouth.

The hobble forbade the natural speed,
The bonds blocked the steps,
The silver fetter the horse's run.

The steed struck the forest-robbers,
Beat them back with killing hooves
Down upon the tormentors' necks,
Clubbed down the wicked ones.

With foreleg stormed the road,
With hind leg kicking,
Combed the great wolves,
The claw-pawed bears.

Despite that, other packs came
From the forest onto the flatland,
In swarms like a flock of birds,
Cruelly at the horse's neck,
Upon the steed's waning strength.

At last, spent with exhaustion,
The steed's last strength failed
In the evil predators' claws,
In the greedy mouths' teeth;
Was broken down upon the grass —
Kalev's precious horse —
Prey for the forest's carrion.

Tracks the horse had left
As witness along the way
For a league's length
For the dear son of Kalev.

Where the hobbled foot fell,
There it birthed a hollow;
Where it struck predators,
There it grew a hillock,
Raised a little knoll;

Where at last into the predator's grip
At the forest's edge it fell,
There as blood flowed
It became puddles on the flatland,
Wide red pools;

Where the liver rotted,
There a mountain was born;
Where it lost its entrails,
There a marsh was born,
A deep bog was laid;

Where it dropped a bone,
Grew a beautiful little hillock;
Where hair was lost,
There at once grew rushes;
Where the mane fell,
There reeds were born in plenty;
Where the tail fell,
There it sowed hazel trees,
Hazel-nut bushes.

So in dying it had birthed,
In ending itself had created —
Kalev's precious steed —
Marks of memory,
Tokens of testimony
For the generations after.

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 VIII is the canto of kingship and sacrifice. The three brothers cast lots by throwing stones across a lake: the elder's sinks into the deep, the second's lands half-submerged, and the youngest Kalevipoeg's flies farthest onto dry ground — heaven's will declaring the youngest king. After the coronation and the brothers' departure, the new king performs a cosmogonic ploughing of Estonia, turning wasteland into farmland, forest, and flower-meadow. His sweat seeps into the earth and becomes healing springs. But during a noonday rest, his hobbled horse wanders into the forest, where wolves and bears destroy it. In dying, the horse's body creates the landscape — hollows, hillocks, pools, mountains, marshes, rushes, reeds, and hazel groves — an etiological myth connecting the king's sacrifice to the land itself. The horse-sacrifice motif echoes the Vedic aśvamedha and Norse Völsi traditions, placing the Kalevipoeg within the broader Indo-European mythic pattern where a king's horse must die so the kingdom can live.

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

🌲

Source Text: Kalevipoeg — Kaheksas 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.

Taeva küünal, ehatähti,
Hämariku selgem silma,
Vaata pilvelauge pilust,
Taeva kõrge kulmu alta
Lauliku teeradadelle,
Kannelniku käigi peale!
        Vaikselt vaatas sinu silma
Muistepõlve muudendusi,
Vaatas Taara tammikuida,
Hiiepuida ilusaida
Haljendavas leheehtes;
Vaatas Ema lainte läiki
Päikese paistval palgel;
Vaatas Ema voolamista,
Kohisevat vooge käiki
Talve rinnalta võõrdudes.
        Küll sa, kallis tähetütar,
Taeva piiga peenikene,
Nägid vendi veeremassa,
Kui nad läksid liisku heitma!
Küllap nägid künnimeesta,
Kuninglikku Kalevida
Viru põldu vinderikku,
Järva põldu jänderikku
Kange käega kündemassa,
Kui ta kündis suured saared,
Suured saared, kõrged künkad,
Kordas laiad lagedikud,
Soossa pilliroostikud,
Mäed vagude vahele,
Künkad küürul põllu peale,
Orud kõrguste keskele.
Küll sa, kallis tähtepiiga,
Kangelase kündi nägid!
        Kui mul peaks ehk puudumaie
Laululooksi lõngasida,
Korrutatud kuldakõnet,
Hõbekedra heidekesi,
Küllap tähti näitab teeda,
Taevas tarku radasida.
Kui mul puudub siis veel sõnu,
Veel jäid koju kotitäied,
Ahju peale kindatäied,
Parsile veel pihutäied,
Kirstu kingakannatäied.
Kui mul veel peaks puudumaie,
Küllap korjan kanarbikust,
Nopin raatmaa radadelta,
Riisun lisa rägastikust,
Kolletanud heinakulust,
Korjan kasteheinakestest,
Ädaliku kõrrekestest,
Haarun kokku aganikust,
Kõlgastiku pühkmetesta.
        Kui ma lugu luuletama,
Hakkan lausa laulemaie,
Kalevida kuulutama,
Siis jääb valda vaatamaie,
Küla kulda kuulamaie,
Saksad servi seisemaie,
Mõisahulgad mõtlemaie,
Kuulama minu kõnesid,
Minu laululõksatusi.
        Tuleb taga targem aega,
Parem pidu meie põlvel′,
Siis ma laulan muistelaule,
Lõksutan lauliku lugusid,
Veeretelen vanu viise,
Mis ma Harjusta arvasin,
Mis ma Virusta vedasin,
Mis ma Läänest lunastasin,
Taara hiiesta tabasin.
Seal laulan tule tuisussegi,
Lõhna lumahangessegi,
Pistan pilvedki põlema,
Lumekübemed kumama.
Nii oli vanast Virus viisi,
Järva laulikute loomus.
        Kui ma lausa lugu laulan,
Kalevida kuulutelen,
Olevida ilmutelen:
Mitu võib hobu vedada,
Mitu kõrbi kergitada,
Linalakk ehk liigutada?
Kannaks Kalevi hobune,
Alevi halli ratsukene
Üksinda mu lauluhulgad,
Kuulutuste kullakoormad.
        Teisel päeval, koidu piirdel,
Väikse valge hämarusel
Tõt′sid Kalevite pojad
Kolmekesi kõndimaie,
Lustikäigil luusimaie:
Kas ehk kuskil kogemata
Ladusamat liisukohta,
Õnnekatsumise paika
Salasoovikute soovil
Silmad saaks neil sihtimaie.
        Kalevite pojad noored
Rändasivad jõudsal sammul
Lustilikult lõuna poole,
Puhkasivad metsa varjul
Vahel väsind liikmeida;
Võtsid toitu toetuseks,
Keelekastet karastuseks.
        Kui tuli õhtuke ilusa,
Veeres kena ehavalge,
Leidsid nad talu teelta,
Pere pärnade vahelta.
Kanged mehed kolmekesi
Astusivad alla õue.
Isa vastassa väravas,
Eite vastas ukse eessa;
Isa hüüab väravasta,
Eite hella tõstab häälta:
"Astuge, mehed, õueje,
Tulge, peiud, me talusse,
Kosilased, kamberisse!
Teie, kõrged kosilased,
Kallid Kalevite pojad,
Meil on kõrged kositavad,
Targa taadi tütrekesed,
Hiiust ilmund neiukesed.
Teil on kulda märssidessa,
Hõbehelmed põuedessa,
Penningida pungadessa,
Vanu taalreid taskussa;
Meil on kirstud kuhjadessa,
Annivakad valmistatud."
        Vanem venda kostis vastu:
"Ega me ole kosjaskäijad,
Peiuteed ei tallamassa.
Oleme tühja teede käijad,
Oleme õnneotsijad;
Tuba alles tegemata,
Kambrinurgad nöörimata,
Sängilauad saagimata,
Kuhu kana viidanekse."
        Isa mõistis, kostis vastu:
"Ärge te võtke vihaksi,
Pange meeleksi pahaksi:
Peiud olete, petised!
Miks teil siidisärgid seljas,
Kuldatoimsest teised riided?
Kuis te teadnud siia tulla,
Osanud õue ajada?
Märki ei olnud mätta′assa,
Tähte aiateiba′assa,
Et siin kanad kasvamassa,
Tedred maasta tõusemassa,
Pardid pesal haudumassa.
Hoietud lapsed hoonetes
Kasvid salakamberissa,
Kudusivad kuldakangast,
Sidusivad siidisida,
Kuldakinda′ad käessa,
Hõbesõrmuksed sõrmessa,
Suured sõled rindadessa,
Kallid taalrid kaela ümber.
Teie käite kulla valul,
Sõidate sõle valulla."
        Teine venda kostis vastu:
"Kuule, tarka taadikene,
Kuule, hella eidekene!
Laske neiud lagedalle,
Piigad õhtu iludelle,
Laske murule mängima,
Kiige alla kiljatama!
Annid jäägu andemata,
Kullad teil kulutamata!"
        Seal toodi tüttered toasta,
Toodi kallid kamberista:
Vööd olid kuldakeerulised,
Pärjad litteris läikisid,
Siidisabad sadadena
Piki pihta rippusivad,
Hõbehelmed, kuldakeed
Kaela ümber kõikusivad,
Suured sõled rindadessa;
Kui nad tantsisid edasi,
Lehvisivad siidilindid,
Välkusid otsad varbani;
Kui nad tantsisid tagasi,
Kargasivad kandadeni.
        Eite hüüdis üle ukse:
"Need on tütred teinud tööda,
Kaua kangasta kudunud,
Lõuendida lõksutanud,
Need on toimesta tagunud,
Poogelista paugutanud,
Siidisukki vikeldanud,
Heitnud need heledad lõngad,
Kaunistanud kallid kangad;
Ei ole suikund suitsuaega
Ega tukkund tööda tehes;
Neist saab Kalevite kaasa,
Kangemeeste kodukana."
        Noorem venda mõistis kohe,
Kavalasti vastu kostis:
"Kuule, hella eidekene,
Kuule, tarka taadikene!
Kalevite kodukanad,
Needap alles kasvamata.
Ei, meist kolmest kosilasi
Teie talusse ei tõuse.
Meie lähme õnne otsima,
Läheme pesa pärima.
        Neitsikesed, noorukesed!
Ärge, kullad, kurvastage!
Pisar võtab palgepuna,
Kuu teil võtab kuue toime,
Päevatera pärja toime,
Ehavalge helmekorra,
Tähti võtab taalri läigi,
Enne kui omane osaneb.
Meie käime õnneteeda,
Lähme hella öö valulla,
Käime kulla kuu valulla,
Käime tähtede ilulla,
Sõsara sõle valulla,
Vana vankeri valulla."
        Kalevite pojad noored
Rändasivad jõudsal sammul
Lustilikult lõuna poole,
Käisid päeva, käisid kaksi,
Käisid tüki kolmat päeva,
Kuni neile kogemata
Järvekene vastu jõudis
Kena kõrge kallastega.
Ilus oli järvi igapidi:
Lagled lustil lainetella,
Luigekarjad kalda ligi,
Pardid jälle alla parve,
Hallid linnud pealla parve.
Kaldalt vaates kaugemalle
Paistis päevaveeru vastu
Taara ilus hiiekene,
Mäeharjalt haljendelles
Läikivailla lehtedella.
Õnnerikkas orus voolas
Emajõgi väsimata,
Päeva paistel lainekesi
Veeretelles Peipsi poole.
Ema rinda lüpsis lisa,
Kosupiima Peipsi rüppe.
        Kalevite vanem venda
Seadis sõna sõudevalle,
Hakkas nõnda pajatama:
"Siin on mõnus katsekohta,
Paras liisuheite paika;
Hiiest ilmub Taara silma,
Vanaisa lahke vaade,
Jõesta jumaliku vari.
Laskem, vennad, liisku lüüa:
Kes meist kolmest vendadesta
Kodumaal saab kuningaksi,
Isa riigi valitsejaks,
Kalli rahva kaitsejaksi?
Kes see kaugelt õnnekaupa
Võõral maal saab voli võtma,
Eluaset ehitama?"
        Kolm siis kivi korjatie,
Liisukiviks valitie,
Miska mehed määra mööda
Liisku pidid viskamaie,
Kelle käsi kaugemalle
Kivi jaksaks kihutada.
        Nemad võtsid võidukivid,
Kandsid kalda ligemalle,
Asusivad ridamisi
Kolmekesi kalda äärde.
        Võidu määraks oli võetud,
Sihiks järve laius seatud:
Kelle kivi kergel lennul
Järsku üle laia järve
Teistest tüki kaugemalle
Vete taha maha veereb,
Seda pidi seadust mööda
Valitsejaks värvatama.
Kadund isa käskusida
Tõotati tõrkumata
Täielikult toimetada:
Kaks neist pidid kauge′elle
Võõramaale veeremaie,
Kolmas venda kodumaale
Valitsejaks jälle jääma.
        Vanem venda pajatelles
Seadis sõna sõudevalle:
"Lähme liisku heitemaie!
Minu kohus, kulla vennad,
Esimest kord helbitada;
Ema, hella eidekene,
Tõi mind toominga õiella
Varemini siia ilma,
Viis mind varem vihtlemaie,
Päeva paistel paisumaie,
Tõi mull′ marju magusaida,
Enne kui ta teile toonud.
Peaks ehk teie paiskamine
Minu määrast mööda jõudma:
Sest ei tõusku tülitsemist
Ega vaenuvihkamisi!
Mul ei ole mingit märki,
Silmal sihti ette seatud;
Mina pean rada rajama,
Teistele teed tegema.
Kuhu ma kivi keeritan,
Sinna panen teile sihi.
Järelkäija leiab jälgi,
Tagakäija tehtud teeda.
        Kes see esimese teo
Tehtud tööd saab teotama,
Mingu maja ehitama,
Seinasida kokku seadma,
Nurgaviilu vikeldama,
Katusharja algamaie,
Kuhu tuuled teinud raja:
Küllap saab siis nägemaie,
Kuidas laitus laial keelel
Virgem leidma vigasida,
Kui on ise targem tööle."
        Kui nii pikalt pajatanud,
Hakkas kivi keeritama,
Tõstis kätta kõrgemalle,
Saatis kivi sõudemaie,
Tuuletiivul lendamaie.
        Kivi lendas tuule kiirul,
Tuule kiirul taeva poole.
Vaatajate arvamisel
Lendas kivilinnukene
Sinna, kuhu taevaserva,
Suure ilma katus-ulu
Maa seina külge rajab.
Äkitselta vääratades
Kivi maha kukkumaie,
Langes loodis libamisi,
Sattus järve märga sängi,
Teise kalda ligidalle.
Kohisedes kerkis vesi
Vastu taevast vahutelles;
Kivi põrkas järvepõhja,
Vetevaiba katte alla,
Langes lainte sügavusse,
Kadus vaatajate silmast.
        Teine venda pajatelles
Seadis sõnad sõudevalle:
"Mul on venda teinud teeda,
Rada ette ju rajanud,
Hoone ette ehitanud,
Seadnud kokku toaseinad,
Vikeldanud nurgaviilud,
Alustanud katusharjad;
Sestap tahan sihti mööda
Tema järel teeda käia."
        Kui nii pikalt pajatanud,
Võttis kivi kange kätte,
Keeras kiiremal kihinal,
Viskas vingemal vihinal
Kivilinnu lendamaie,
Kaljupaku purjetama.
Kivi tõusis taeva poole,
Püüdis pilvi pillutada,
Päevapaistet varjutada.
Tuule kiirul lendas kivi
Kõrgemalle, kaugemalle;
Sealap vaarus vankumaie,
Maa poole pillumaie,
Kukkus järvekalda äärde,
Vee ja kuiva keske′elle;
Pool jäi kivist vette maetud,
Lainetesta kinni kaetud,
Pool veel silma paistevalle.
        Nüüd sai võiduviskamine
Kolmandama venna katseks.
Ehk küll vähem vanusella,
Aastaarvult teistest vaesem
Kalevite kallim poega,
Siiski piha paisusella,
Labaluie laiusella,
Kehakondi kindlusella,
Tema teistesta tugevam,
Tema vendadest vägevam;
Kätesooned tal kangemad,
Sõrmeküüned tal kindlamad,
Silmasihti tal osavam,
Meelemõistus tal mõnusam.
        Noorem venda pajatelles
Seadis sõnad sõudevalle:
"Ema, hella eidekene,
Tõi mu, hilistallekese,
Suurel surmal siia ilma,
Suurel surmal, valjul vaeval
Sündis lese leinalapsi.
Ema, hella eidekene,
Mitu ööd oli uneta,
Mitu koitu eine′eta,
Mitu päeva lõuna′ata;
Ei kustunud tuli toasta,
Säde ei sängisamba′asta.
Eite hella riide′esta,
Hobu halli rakke′esta;
Halli sõitis arsti teeda,
Naine tuhnis tuuslarida,
Kimmel kõndis kümme teeda,
Ratsu rohkesti radasid,
Naine tarkade taresid.
Otsis lapsele abida,
Nõrgale nutuvõttijaid,
Väetile rammuandijaid;
Andis lamba lausujalle,
Kitse kidalõikajalle,
Kirju värsi vihtlejalle,
Teise harjaksevõtjale,
Andis taalri targale,
Tõotas teise arstile.
        Laulis vara, laulis hilja:
Ole vaita, poega noori!
Kasva mulle karjapoisiks,
Tõuse tõurahoidijaksi,
Veni veisekarjuseksi,
Kasva, poega, künnimeheks,
Sirgu vahvaks sõjameheks!
        Poega kasvas ammu aega,
Ammu aega, palju päevi,
Juba saab mitu suveda,
Veereb viisi heinaaega,
Kui ma isa õue alla
Kiigel lusti keeritasin,
Ühe toome õie pealla,
Kahe kaseladva pealla,
Lepa laia lehe pealla,
Sarapuu südame pealla.
        Juba toomi heitis õilmed,
Kaski ju lehed kaotas,
Lepalehed lendasivad,
Sarapuu süda sadines.
Minust aga kasvas meesi,
Kasvas Kalevite poega."
        Noorem venda võttis kivi,
Keeritas tuule tuhinal,
Viskas virgemal vihinal
Kivilinnu lendamaie,
Kaljupaku purjetama;
Osav silma sihtis jooksu,
Kange käsi seadis käiki.
Ehk küll tuules tuisatelles
Kivi lendas kõrgemalle,
Kõrgemalle, kaugemalle:
Ei läind pilvi pillutama
Ega laiust lahutama,
Ei läind kõrgust kõigutama
Ega valgust varjutama.
Kivi veeres vuhisedes,
Lendas üle laia järve
Teise poole kalda peale,
Kukkus mõõdu määramisel
Maha kuiva piiridelle.
        Vanem venda pajatama:
"Tõmbame, vennad, tõesti,
Lähme suisa sammudella,
Lähme läbi loigukese
Võidukive vaatamaie,
Kuhu need kivid kukkusid!"
        Lähem tee käis vete kaudu,
Ligem rada järvest läbi;
Sealtap Kalevite pojad
Suisa teeda sammusivad,
Sealtap rada rändasivad
Võidukive vaatamaie.
Keset järve kandis vesi
Kalevi poegel kintsuni.
        Esimese venna kivi
Magas laintevaiba varjus,
Suikus järvesügavuses;
Saand ei silma seda näha
Ega käsi katsumaie.
        Teise venna võidukivi
Leiti ligi kalda ääre
Vee ja kuiva vahepealla,
Pool veel paistis lagedalle,
Pool jäi peitu lainetesse.
        Kolmandama venna kivi,
Võiduviskamise märki,
Leiti üksi kuival kaldal,
Leiti murul magamassa,
Tüki maada teistest kaugel.
Sinna kivi oli sattund
Taeva tahtmist tähendama:
Keda kolme venna seasta
Kuningaks peab kutsutama.
        Vanem venda pajatelles
Pani sõnad sõudemaie:
"Jumalikul juhatusel
Tehti tähti liiva peale,
Pandi märki muru peale,
Kes meist isa käsku mööda
Valitsejaks värvatakse,
Kuningaksi kõrgendakse.
        Lähme järvest vetta tooma,
Miska venda viheldakse,
Venna keha karastakse,
Kuningaksi kastetakse!
Ehime keha ilusaks,
Silime hiuksed siledaks;
Kuldatoime kuube selga,
Hõbesärki kuue alla,
Vammus vanasta vasesta;
Pange pähe kuldakübar,
Raudakilpi peale rinna, -
Siis saab vennast sõjameesi,
Kasvab vägev võidumeesi:
Kuhu sammu siruteleb,
Seal peab siidi rigisema,
Kulda kallis kõlisema,
Hõbe järel helisema,
Vaski kannul kärisema.
Kus nüüd venda kõndinekse,
Sealap ilu helkinekse."
        Kuidas vana Kalev käskind,
Enne surma ette seadnud,
Nõnda võeti noorem venda
Isamaale valitsejaks,
Kõrgendati kuningaksi.
        Teised vennad tõstsid laulu,
Panid hääled helkimaie:
"Lähme, vennad, veeremaie,
Kahekesi kõndimaie;
Lähme õnne otsimaie,
Kus meil kukub õnnekägu,
Laulab vastu lustilindu!"
        Noorem venda laulis vastu:
"Kus see päike paistemassa,
Kus see kuu on kumendamas,
Tähed teeda näitamassa,
Kasvab kulda kuusemetsi,
Lehte ilus lepikuida,
Kasvab kalleid kasemetsi,
Tõuseb Taara tammikuida.
Sealap kukub õnnekägu,
Laulab vastu lustilindu.
Kussa kukub õnnekägu,
Sinna tehke toaseinad;
Kussa laulab lustilindu,
Sinna ehitage kamber,
Tehke sisse siidisängi;
Kus ehk laulab leinalindu,
Sinna tehke lese sauna,
Vaeselapse varjukene!"
        Teised vennad pajatasid:
"Jumalaga, venda noori,
Liisul liimitud kuningas!
Jumalaga, pesapaika,
Armas haudumisekohta,
Kus me, mehed, kasvasime,
Kus me kui tammed tõusime!
Nüüdap nutvad noorusnurmed,
Leinavad Lääne lepikud,
Kussa kuked kasvasivad.
Ei meil veere silmavetta,
Enam on sirgul silmavett;
Meie silmist veereb verda,
Meie palged kahvatanud,
Kurbus silmakulmudella,
Leinapilved laugudella.
        Las′ aga talve tasa minna,
Küllap kulub kevadelle,
Küllap sulatab suvele.
Saavad jõed jooksemaie,
Allikad harunemaie,
Õilmed tupest tungimaie,
Linnud ladvas laulemaie,
Küll siis jõgi jõuab sinna,
Kus meid ootab kodupaika,
Allikasoon jõuab sinna,
Kuhu toa üles teeme,
Hoone seinad ehitame;
Õilme ilu hiilgab sinna,
Kuhu kosjakambri teeme;
Linnulaulu langeb sinna,
Kus need neiud kasvamassa,
Sõlgirinnad sirgumassa.
Jumalaga, Taara aeda,
Emajõekene ilusa!
Jumalaga, mäed ja orud,
Isamaa metsad ja lagedad!
Lapsi võõrdub ema rinnalt,
Armukaisust väetikene,
Mees peab kõigist võõrdumaie,
Maha jätma magusama.
Maailm lahke, laialine,
Taevas kõrgekummiline;
Tugeval ei tõuse tungi,
Vägeval ei pigistusta."
        Nõnda vennad veeresivad,
Linnud pesast lahkusivad,
Jätsid venna järve äärde
Maha üksinda murule,
Jätsid üksi igatsema
Nooruspäevi paremaida,
Isakoja ilusida,
Eidearmu õnnekesi,
Mis kõik kastena kadunud,
Tuuleõhu tuisatelles
Päeva palav pillutanud.
        Kiviküürul istudessa
Hakkas meesi mõtlemaie:
"Mis on läinud luhtadelta,
Veerend õilmes väljadelta
Suve sammu sõudemisel,
Sest peab saama seemnekesi
Tulevpäevade tuluksi.
Kui mind tehti kuningaksi,
Valitie valitsejaks,
Pidin pesast põgenema,
Lagedalle lendamaie,
Kus üks loodud kotkapoega
Tuulilla peab tallamaie
Omal tiival õnneteeda,
Radasida rajamaie."
        Viskas hõbevalget vette
Lainetelle lepituseks,
Vetevaimu meelituseks,
Kuidas vanarahva käsku
Nooremaida õpetanud,
Mis ei mõista meie mehed,
Targad naised tähendada.
        Pärast võiduviskamista,
Vendadesta lahkumista
Võttis Kalevite poega
Kätte valitsuse võimust,
Võttis kätte adrasahad
Austelles adratööda,
Põllumehe põlvekesta.
Ja et sahameeste seisus
Rahupäevil ikka õitseks,
Sõjakärast solkimata,
Vaenuverest värvimata,
Seks on mõnusada mõõka
Kuningalle kanguseksi
Igas kohas väga tarvis:
Toeks tungijate vastu,
Varjuks vastu vaenlaselle,
Miska kurja karistada,
Vaenuviha vähendada,
Riigiseadust kohendada.
        Kalevite kallim poega,
Märssi seljas, mõõka puusas,
Seadis adra aisadelle,
Pani hobu adra ette,
Rakendas ruuna künnile;
Hakkas sooda sahkamaie,
Kuiva maada kündemaie,
Arupinda pööramaie.
Kündis põrmuks mullapinna,
Segas kivid sõmeraksi,
Segas savi seemnekandjaks,
Põrmu iduimetajaks;
Kündis paigad põllumaaksi,
Vägevaksi viljamaaksi,
Teised kohad karjamaaksi,
Murumaaksi, heinamaaksi;
Külvas soosse sinikaida,
Samblasülle jõhvikaida,
Mätta rüppe murakaida,
Mõnda paika mustikaida.
        Kündis kohad metsamaaksi,
Laiad paigad laanemaaksi,
Külvas metsad kasvamaie,
Tammed kõrged tõusemaie,
Põõsastikud paisumaie;
Kündis paigad lagedikuks,
Laiad arud, laiad murud
Lustilikuks luusikohaks;
Kündis mäed mängimaie,
Kingukesed kõikumaie;
Kündis orud, sahkas salud,
Aasad, luhad haljendama;
Külvas mäele maasikaida,
Põõsa alla pohlakaida;
Kündis lilled kasvamaie,
Õilmed ilul tolmamaie.
        Kündis maada kerkivalle,
Kerkivalle, koheville,
Kündis väljad vöötidesse
Vägeva adra valulla,
Mis sai tuulest tasuteldud,
Vihmaveesta veereteldud,
Sulalumest siliteldud,
Raheterista triigitud.
Adrasaha armidella
Pidi vili voodamaie,
Toitu rohkest′ tõusemaie
Põlvest põlve paisutavaks
Surevate sugudelle.
        Kalevite kallim poega
Kündis päeva, kündis kaksi,
Kündis kolmandama päeva,
Kündis peale mõne päeva;
Kündis vara udu jälil,
Kündis hilja kaste piirdel,
Kündis lausa lõuna ajal.
        Päikese äge palav
Kurnas kallist ruunakesta,
Vaevas adravedajada,
Piinas künnimehe pihta.
Hobu pidi parmupiina,
Kihulaste kutistusta,
Pidi kiini kihutusta
Töö kallal kannatama.
Mehel kuivas keelekene
Suhu suure janu pärast.
        Ühel lõunal paistis päike
Ägedama hiilgusega.
Palav hakkas pakitama,
Kippus lojust lõpetama.
Kalevipoeg päästis hobu,
Rooma kütkest ruunakese,
Köitis jalad kammitsasse,
Et ei hobu kaugel jookseks.
Heitis ise külje peale
Väsind keha karastama,
Vintsund liikmeid venitama,
Seljasooni sirutama,
Suikus unesidemesse
Päevapaistel puhkamaie.
        Künka küürul seisis kaela,
Parem käsi toetas peada
Padja kombel põse alta;
Mäe kõrvas mehe keha,
Jalad laiali lagedal.
Nõnda magas mehepoega,
Kangemeeste kasvandikku,
Magas kaua murusängis,
Kuni päike õhtu keerul
Vajus juba veeru poole.
        Äge põuapalav piinas
Unerüpes uinujada,
Rahusängil suikujada,
Ajas naha auramaie,
Ihu üldsalt higistama,
Silmnäo vetta veeretama.
        Palgeilt tõusis pisaraida,
Hiukseist välja joosnud higi
Imes mägi mahla kombel
Salapõue sügavusse;
Sealtap sigis soonekesi,
Allikaida mulla alla,
Kust sai keelekustutusta,
Kurnand keha karastusta
Pärastpõlve poegadelle,
Tulevpäevi tüttereile,
Rammumärga raukadelle;
Kes sest maitseb, leiab kosu,
Võtab võimu vägevamat:
Kidur lapsi leiab kasvu,
Põdur kohe parandusta,
Tume silma teravusta,
Sõge silm ehk seletusta,
Vigaselta lõpeb vaeva,
Valukandijalta valud,
Pikalised piinutused.
        Lätteveel on võimas vägi,
Salavägi sigimisest,
Kosuv rammu Kalevista.
Kes sealt korra märga maitsend
Põuapäeva palavusel,
Tunneb kohe tugevuse
Liikmetesse liikumaie,
Tunneb kohe rõõmurammu
Südamesse siginema.
Piiga palgel paisub puna,
Kestevam kui Maarja puna;
Maarja puna paisub palgeil
Harukorral aasta-a′ ani,
Kalevite lätte puna
Paistab kaua palgeilta,
Vältab eluõhtu′ uni.
        Kalevite kange poega
Leidis une lõpetusel
Vaimu vaate väravasta
Õnnetuse ettetähte,
Kuidas kammitsassa kõrbi,
Kallis künniruunakene
Kiskujate kiusatusel
Elukorda lõpetamas.
        Ratsu oli rohumaalta,
Laia muru lagedalta
Läinud kihulaste kiinil,
Parmukeste pakitusel
Sammu-sammult kaugemalle
Põõsastikku peituselle;
Läinud laia laane serva
Püsipaika püüdemaie,
Varjupaika võttemaie,
Natukese norutelles
Päeva vaeva vähendama.
        Laias muistses laanemetsas
Sigis rohkesti susisid,
Kasvas palju kiskujaida,
Kes kui vereahned koerad
Kaugelt juba nuuskrukoonul
Hobu higi haisutanud.
Hunte tuli hulgakaupa,
Karusida karjakaupa,
Rahedena rebaseida
Ruuna rasvast rõõmustama,
Magusaida maitsemaie,
Tulid välja vaatamaie,
Laane äärde luurimaie,
Kust neil haisu koonudesse
Tuuleõhukene toonud.
        Kalevite kallis ruuna,
Kammitsköies kõrvikene
Kargas kinnitatud kannul,
Sideseotud sammudella,
Hüpakille hobujalga
Laialise lagedalle,
Püüdis hädast põgeneda,
Surma suusta sõudaneda.
Kammits keelas loodud kiiru,
Side sulges sammusida,
Hõbeheie hobu jooksu.
        Ratsu rabas metsaröövlid,
Taotas tagant tappekabjal
Kiusajate kaela peale,
Nuias maha nurjatumaid.
Esijalul tormas teeda,
Tagajalul tonkidelles
Suges suuri susisida,
Küüsikäppi karusida.
Kiuste tulid teised karjad
Laanemetsast lagedalle,
Parvessa kui linnupere
Kiusavasti hobu kaela,
Ratsu raugend rammu peale.
        Viimaks roidus väsimusel
Ratsukese viimne rammu
Kurja kiskujate küüsis,
Ablassuude hammastessa;
Murti maha muru peale
Kalevite kallis hobu
Roaks metsa raibetelle.
Jälgi hobu jättanekse
Teede juhil tunnistuseks
Penikoorma pikkusella
Kalli Kalevipojale.
        Kuhu kukkus kammitsjalga,
Sinna hauda sünniteli,
Kuhu rabas kiskujaida,
Sinna künka kasvateli,
Kingukese kõrgendeli;
Kuhu viimaks kiskja kätte
Laane äärde langenekse,
Sinna veri voolatessa
Loiguksi sai lagedalle,
Laiaksi punalaheksi;
Kuhu maksa mädanekse,
Sinna mägi siginekse;
Kuhu sisikonnad kaotas,
Sinna sooda sündinekse,
Raba sügav rajatie;
Kuhu pillas kondikese,
Kasvas kaunis künkakene;
Kuhu karva kaotanekse,
Kasvas kohe kõrkijaida;
Kuhu lakka langenekse,
Sinna sündis rohkest′ roogu;
Kuhu saba sattunekse,
Sinna külvas sarapuida,
Pähklipuie põõsaida.
        Nii oli surres sünnitanud,
Lõppemisel ise loonud
Kalevite kallis ruuna
Mälestuse märkisida,
Tõenduse tunnistähti
Pärastiste põlvedelle.

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.

🌲