The Loss of the Sword
The Kalevipoeg (Son of Kalev) is the Estonian national epic, compiled by Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald (1803–1882) from folk songs, oral traditions, and his own literary composition. Published in its definitive form in 1857–1861, it tells in twenty cantos the life of the giant hero Kalevipoeg — son of the mythical king Kalev and his wife Linda — from his birth through his adventures to his tragic end chained at the gates of the underworld.
Canto XI is the pivot from adventure to tragedy. Kalevipoeg marches to Lake Peipsi and wades across it on foot, scattering fish and waterfowl with his stride. A hairy sorcerer (sortsilane) — a hedge-wizard of the Peipsi shore — tries to drown him with wind-spells but fails. Kalevipoeg comes ashore carrying twenty men's loads of boards from Pskov, meant to build a fortress for the protection of widows and orphans. That night, while the hero sleeps, the sorcerer creeps to his bed and uses seven enchanted herbs to lift the sword from its place. But at the Kääpa River the sword slips from the thief's arms into the water, where a water-maiden (näkineitsi) claims it.
Kalevipoeg wakes, calls to his sword three times in song — and hears only silence. He searches the forests and marshes, then finds the blade gleaming beneath the Kääpa's surface. In a dialogue sung across the water, the sword confesses it was seduced by the river-maiden and mourns its own past as an instrument of bloodshed. Kalevipoeg tells the sword to sleep in the river and wait for a worthy hero — but delivers a fatal command: "If ever the one who carried you steps into this river, cut off both his legs." He does not know he has cursed himself. In the final canto, Kalevipoeg will step into the Kääpa, and the sword will obey.
The canto ends with a comic interlude: a tiny man found trembling in the hazel forest tells how he sheltered overnight with a giant-woman and her two giant sons, and was blown from wall to wall all night by their thunderous flatulence.
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 alliteration of Estonian regivärss are preserved in the line structure. No existing English translation was consulted as a source.
The March to Peipsi
The twilight's blush of cheek
Gleamed upon the cloud-bands,
Winding them to streaks,
Twisting them to golden curls
For the beauty of the new day,
When already Kalev's son
Sprang from his bed with open eyes
And leapt up to walk.
The swift one does not linger,
The urgent one halts nowhere.
In the bracing morning dew,
Stretching out his strides,
The sturdy son of man walked —
After taking up a bird-decoy —
Toward the shore of Lake Peipsi;
He broke through the forests,
Across wide open clearings,
Through thick brushwood,
Then another stretch of mossy bog,
Some lengths of tussock-marsh,
Where no road had been made,
No path had been laid down.
Where he stormed through the woodland,
A lane sprang up behind him,
Where he trampled through the bog,
A ditch came into being,
Where he walked over hillocks,
A smooth path was born;
The hillocks went hunching lower,
Some hills sank down
Where his heel had lingered longer,
Where his toe had chanced to stay.
Wading Across Peipsi
Reaching the shore of the lake,
Kalev paused to look —
Could he find somewhere a boat
Fit for carrying a load,
A barge to be discovered?
Casting his gaze far
Over the falling waves,
There was no boat to be seen,
No barge anywhere nearby.
Kalev tucked his coat-tails
Into folds within his belt,
Then strode straight into the water,
Breaking through the waves.
You should have seen him, brother,
His passage from the shore,
His flying walk through the waves —
Not even the sharpest marten-eye
Could see the other shore at all,
Where the man might set
His feet on dry ground again,
Drain the water from his toes.
Kalev's mighty son
Did not mind the length of the road,
The heaviness of the water-path
Did not bind his steps;
He broke through the waves with pleasure,
With a cheerful heart through the billows,
Sent the water spraying upward,
Rising to a height,
Hissing in white foam.
The fish in the depths were startled,
The crayfish trembled in their holes,
The grebes dove beneath the waves,
The ducks fled into the reeds
At the thunder of the man's stride.
The Sorcerer of Peipsi
Had anyone come there by chance
On that same day,
They could have seen with their own eyes
Strange things happening,
Wonders appearing.
In the shadow of thick brush
A sorcerer stood hidden —
The best wizard of the Peipsi shore.
The little man, like a forest creature,
Had hair grown over his whole body,
Maned like a young stallion,
Like a two-legged bear.
Pig-slit eyes
Sat crusted in their sockets,
Fettered in their lashes;
From the corners of his wide mouth
White froth foamed
As from a boar's tusks;
His cat-shaped snub nose
Showed envy enough.
The two-legged hairy one,
The man-shaped forest creature,
A salt-sorcerer by blood,
Was also something of a wind-wizard,
In some measure a spell-singer,
A mumbler of song-words,
A handler of help-words,
A whisperer of wind-charms,
Could cast fortune-sticks,
Set a sieve to turning,
With a thief's-image key-charm
Conjure a brandy-glass,
Use birch-switches to take away anger,
Put evil upon another,
Lay hatred on the wretched,
Diminish apparitions,
Block the ghost's road;
Could divine healing remedies,
Procure health from the wind,
Weaken sprains,
Ease bruises,
Set a dislocated limb
Back in place with a red thread,
Soothe mumps,
Pinch away stomach cramps.
He knew blood-stopping words,
Knew fire-blocking spells,
Pain-words against the serpent,
Secret words for the pillar-post,
Could heal with silver light
A sleeper harmed by the earth,
Mend a withered growth
With dog's-food remedy,
Quiet weak children,
Take away their crying with birch-switches;
Knew words for seizure,
Strong charms against the ague,
A dozen more besides
For taking away toothache,
For healing gray sickness,
For making salt-boxes,
For preparing witch-brooms,
Protection-staves for beggars,
Plenty-arrows for hunters,
Luck-hooks for fishermen,
Curse-catchers for the young;
Could trace the Old Devil's path
From under the moss,
Could rouse the treasure-bearers
At the crossroads,
Win a money-pit by fire-sign
In the cover of night.
The Wind-Spell
Today the man was not earning his keep
As he crouched on the shore
And blew wind-words hard
Over Lake Peipsi
To send the waves flying —
A torment for Kalev.
The water rose to churning,
The waves soared high.
From far off, something appears on the shore —
A deceptive little image,
Like a small figure of a man,
A body-shaped form,
Still half-hidden in the waves,
Imprisoned by the water's will;
Rising one moment higher,
Falling back again into the waves.
Though still ten versts from shore
The traveler was,
The little figure swaying,
Still his mighty form
Gleamed clearly to the eye
Above the surface of the waves.
A heavy load pressed his shoulders,
Bent his back to stooping,
Yet he hurried with quick strides,
The load-bearer toward the shore,
Growing ever taller,
Rising ever mightier.
The sorcerer's son's blowing
Scattered the waves helter-skelter,
Churning them on the water-swing,
Where they rose up high
And foamed against the man's thighs.
Laughing at the waves' jest,
At their game of rumbling,
Kalevipoeg called out:
"Oh, oh! Look at the little swell!
It's trying to wet the little bell!
Whoa, whoa, you buttock-puddle!
You want to rise to a man's pride?"
The Boards from Pskov
Before an hour had passed,
Already the load-bearer Kalevipoeg
Was walking on dry land.
No horse of our time
Nor the best pair of oxen
Could have lifted the load
That the strong man carried there.
Kalev's dear son
Had brought from Pskov a back-full
Of purchased city-boards,
From which comes shelter for the sorrowful,
Shade for the old and weary,
A weeping-corner for the maidens,
A mourning-place for the widows,
And gain for others too.
The load of boards was not great
And was not very small,
A proper man's burden:
Counted by the dozen,
It filled twenty men's loads,
With a couple more added on;
The boards were not in thickness
Anywhere more than three inches,
Nor went in breadth
Anywhere beyond two feet,
Nor were in length
Anywhere beyond ten fathoms.
Such was the load of boards
Carried on Kalev's back,
Which the man now stacked
In a pile upon the turf.
The Sorcerer Flees
He then took the sword from his belt,
Drew it from the sheath,
Meaning to pay the wave-raiser,
The water's wind-blower,
His earned wages.
But nimble toes,
Light little heels
Had carried the sorcerer, the fellow,
Into the darkest thick of the forest
To seek a hiding-place.
Kalev's mighty son,
Wearied by the water-road,
Squeezed by the boards,
Therefore left the sorcerer,
The rascal, untormented,
And on the wide clearing
Began to make his night-camp,
Setting up a bed;
He took from the lake-shore edge
An armful of pebbles,
Dry sand from the dunes,
Carried them a stretch farther,
Spread them on the clearing:
From this came a dry bed,
A couch for the weary sleeper.
The Sand Bed
Kalev's dear son,
When he had taken food from his pouch,
Tasted drink from the flask,
Had propped his tired body,
He loosened the sheath from its cord,
Took the sword from his belt,
Set it on his left side
Standing beside his bed,
So that if danger or mishap
Should come from somewhere unexpected,
His trusty weapon
Would be right at hand.
He stretched out then on his sand-bed
To ease his weariness,
To press the pain from his limbs,
Turned his head toward the west,
His feet toward the east,
His brow straight toward the dawn,
From where the early dawn-light,
The face of the sun-maiden,
From the lap of the new day,
Would quickly rise to his eyes,
Would fall upon his lids;
From where, should it happen
That the weary man should linger
Too long in sleep's embrace,
The dawn would come to call him,
The light would wake the man.
His right hand lay stretched
Toward the south and the midday,
His left hand crookedly
Toward the old northern Wagon.
His weary eyes sank
Swiftly into sleep's harness,
Quickly into slumber's fetters;
The dream had no time
To play with the sleeper,
Preparing no false image
Nor any true portent.
A short time afterward
His snoring already filled the field,
Shaking the ground,
Rumbling through the forests,
Raising the waves of the lake,
As though Thunder were threatening,
As though the Thunder-father from the clouds
Were trampling the wind-air,
Riding headlong.
The Sword Theft
The Peipsi sorcerer in his hiding-place,
Who like a crayfish in its hole
Had hidden himself from the daylight,
Heard from the strong man's throat
The signs of sleep;
Stepped with cautious stride,
Secretly toward the bed,
On tiptoe to look —
From where that sound was coming.
From behind a bush he squinted
And saw in Kalev's bed
The sleeper beside his sword;
Then went with step-by-step approach,
Treading warily,
Walking on cat's paws:
Could he steal the sword from the man's side,
Carry it away with thief's claws?
The little man hoped to snatch the sword
Secretly from beside the bed,
To grab it from beside the hillock.
The noble sword of Kalev,
The measure of the man's might —
It cared nothing for the sorcerer;
It just slept on the turf
Unmoved beside its master,
As though grown fast,
Rooted into the earth.
Nor could the thief's strength
Lift the precious sword,
Not even budge it from the turf.
The salt-sorcerer, the word-wizard,
Began to try his cunning,
To devise secret tricks,
To conjure his deceits.
He quickly tried salt's power,
Words of secret lifting,
The strength of raising-spells,
By which a body is made light,
By which heaviness is conquered.
He bowed toward the moon,
Hoping for power from its light,
Turned his eyes toward the north,
Birthing incantation-words,
Mumbling prayer-words.
The precious sword heard no command,
The war-plow heard no sorcerer's words,
It just slept on the turf
Unmoved beside its master.
The salt-sorcerer, the word-wizard,
Began to play his spell-craft,
Preparing cleverer devices
For the lifting.
He scattered rowan leaves —
A handful — over the sword,
Gathered protective herbs,
Collected witch-grasses,
Sought out whore-berries,
An armful of fern-fronds,
Scattered all of these over the sword,
Plenty of traveler's-herb,
The black dust of spider-poison
He scattered over the sword-edge,
Then made still other devices,
Performed more strange rites,
Whispered seven secret words
Knotted on a sorcerer's ball,
Tempered on a candle-ball,
Compounded on a corpse-ball.
Midsummer Night's luck-flowers,
Enchanted on a witch's broom,
Dyed in a bastard's blood —
He bled his nameless finger
For the sword-holder's pleasure,
To appease the nightmare-rider,
Burned witch's nails in smoke,
And a virgin's shift-threads.
The sword began to notice
The spell-words' enticements,
Began to move from its place,
To rise from the middle,
Rose a span, rose two,
Kept growing ever higher,
Until it touched the sorcerer's armpit.
The salt-sorcerer, the word-wizard —
Away to carry the theft!
The sword burdened the little man,
Pressed his shoulders hard.
Carrying the heavy iron,
The boy puffed and groaned.
Hot sweat on his cheeks
Already covered his whole body;
Still the man would not let go the sword.
"Sooner must my arm break,
Sooner must my life end —
Otherwise I will not leave the sword!"
The salt-sorcerer, the word-wizard,
Carried the king of swords,
The Finnish smith's sweat-eater,
The tormentor of the sons' hands,
Many steps along secret paths,
Resting now and then in the bushes,
Before he could go on.
When from the bank of the Kääpa
He leapt across the river,
Sprang to the other shore,
The sword fell by chance
From the thief's armpit into the water's lap,
Into the deep wave-bed,
Into a secret den to slumber.
The salt-sorcerer, the word-wizard —
At once calling for help!
He set his words flying,
His incantation-words rowing,
His enticing words playing,
His wind-words storming,
His water-words rolling,
His spell-words coaxing,
His other charms lifting —
Might the sword perhaps rise,
The heavy thing move from the waves?
The noble sword of Kalev,
Which heard no wizard's command
Nor sorcerer's compulsion,
Lay unmoved in the waves,
Would not rise from the Kääpa's floor.
When already the morning dawn
Rose along the rim of the sky,
The sorcerer took to fleeing —
Fear in his breeches was the driver!
He left the sword on the river-floor,
In its mud-bed to sleep,
Crept into the thick of the forest
To seek a hiding-place,
Where Kalev's fury and
Vengeful anger need not be feared.
Kalevipoeg's Lament for the Sword
At the dawn's call
Kalev's dear son
Woke in the faint twilight.
Rubbing sleep from his eyes
He reached at once with his brave hand
For his companion beside the bed,
Where the night before, at the edge of sleep,
He had bedded the weapon,
Laid the sword to rest.
The noble sword was not on the turf,
The war-plow not on the moss.
Kalev's dearest son —
The strange affair to investigate!
Sifting his eyes clear
From the wrapping of sleep's cover,
He saw at once, the young man,
How the matter had gone here.
Reading the robber's trail,
The footprints in the moss,
He began to call the sword,
To summon his lost friend:
"Hear me, sword — hear my cuckoo-call,
My song of sorrow, little bird!
Hear your brother's calling,
Your friend's fond wishes —
What I sigh to the forests,
Send forth to the clearings,
Blow into the thick brush!
Answer, wise brother,
Call back to the one who asks:
Who snatched you in the night,
Carried you off with thief's claws?
Uku's eye from above,
From Taara's people in the heavens,
Has watched the thief's steps.
Godly guidance
Can set the matter right.
To mortal men, the sword's wonder,
Its craft-wisdom, is unknown:
They could not with thief-fingers
Carry the heavy iron away.
In Finland my father's kinsman
Forged the sword in secret,
With iron hand his own strength
Into the blade he wrought,
Worked for seven years,
Labored long and suffered
For the king's sword's making;
Took iron of seven kinds,
Seven spirals of steel,
At the bellows' blaze
He welded the coils to a core —
Thus forging the sword,
Thus fashioning the war-blade.
He sang seven secret songs
Each day before the dawn,
Early before the light,
Tempered it at seven wells,
Whetted the sword with seven waters,
Seven waters on the sword-edge.
The hilt was of silver-white,
The pommel of golden-yellow,
The clasp of solid stone.
I know well the sorcerer-rogue,
The raiser of Peipsi's waves:
The fellow is the sword-thief!
The salt-sorcerer's kin
Have always been my enemies,
Ever tormenting me with evil.
If I catch him unawares
In my hawk's talons,
Then I'll a hundredfold
Thrash the villain's body.
Heavy in weight was the precious iron,
The sword made for man's use,
For the thief's feeble strength;
Far he could not carry
The sorcerer, the war-plow.
Hear me, sword — hear my cuckoo-call,
My song of sorrow, little bird!
Hear your brother's calling,
Your friend's fond wishes,
A man's gentle coaxing —
What I sigh to the forests,
Send forth to the clearings,
Blow into the thick brush!
Answer, wise brother,
Call back to the one who asks!"
Kalev's mighty son
Turned his ear to listen —
Might the sword answer back,
The lost iron call out like a cuckoo?
But silence covered the land,
Precious peace all around.
Kalev's mighty son
Sent a second song flying,
Sang a third song
In a honeyed, coaxing voice:
Might the sword perhaps hear the calling,
Its master's pleading,
From somewhere take to listening?
The noble sword gave no sign,
His friend — not a word from anywhere.
Silence covered the land,
Precious peace all around
Blanketed the groves and the clearings.
The Sword in the River
Kalev's mighty son —
Off to search for his sword,
To tread the wind-roads —
He walked long round about,
Cast his circle wider,
Walked ever farther
Round and round his bed;
He roamed through the thickets,
Crisscross through the brush,
Through forests, through tussock-land,
Waded a stretch of oozing bog,
Singing calling-songs
In a honeyed, coaxing voice.
The noble sword gave no sign.
Silence covered the land,
Precious peace all around
Blanketed the groves and the clearings.
But when now Kalev's son,
Searching for his sword,
Had walked his steps
To the banks of the Kääpa River —
Look! there gleamed beneath the water
The shining sword, beautiful,
Smiling up with a friend's face.
Kalevipoeg began to speak:
"Ho-ho, sword, good iron!
Here you sleep in secret
In the cold water-bed?
Dearest sword of man,
Sharpest blood-spiller,
Father's uncle's sweat-eater,
Tormentor of the uncle's sons!
Who managed to lift you,
To carry you under the water,
To lay you beneath the waves?
Who brought you here, sword?"
The sword understood the man's call,
Sang back from the waves,
Spoke like a little duck:
"The salt-sorcerer, the word-wizard —
He it was who secretly
Lifted the sword from the turf,
Raised it from the heather.
Sorcerer's words persuaded,
Spell-words enticed,
Wind-words lifted,
Marigold-blossoms lightened,
Fern-frond set it from below,
Rowan helped from above,
Whore-berry from the edges,
Protective herbs from the center,
Forest-hop and spider-poison
From behind pushed —
These seven companions
Made the sword rise.
The salt-sorcerer, the word-wizard,
Carried the sword to the Kääpa.
When he was leaping from the bank,
Fleeing on the escape-road,
I saw a water-maiden
Peering from beneath the waves,
Who enticed me, the sword,
To roll into the water's embrace,
To fall beneath the waves.
There with pleasure I slid,
And leapt from the sorcerer's armpit —
Slip! — down into the waves,
Into the deep river-bed,
Where I have a golden nest,
A silver bed in the water-maiden's chamber,
Beneath the water-girl's coverlet."
The Dialogue of Sword and Hero
Kalev's mighty son
Understood the sword and sang in answer:
"Is it then more pleasant for the sword,
Is the feast better in hiding,
Lazing in the wave-bed
At the water-maiden's play,
Or in a brave man's hand,
In the whirl of mighty power,
In the tumult of war-games,
Where, when the sword from its bonds,
From its cords is set free,
Brave work is done,
Enemies are thrashed,
With blood you are anointed,
With sweat you are polished?"
The sword understood and answered back,
Sang back from the waves:
"The sword — like a widow in mourning
In the prison of the water's currents.
Longing for its former beauty,
A maiden's joy upon the meadow,
Water falls gently from its eyes,
A tear rolls down its cheeks.
Dozing in the water-bed,
Lazing in the wave-couch
At the water-maiden's play —
Can the sword not grow estranged,
Longing for its former beauty,
When in the whirl of mighty power,
In the tumult of war-games,
It had done brave work,
When, at times from its bonds
Set free from its cords,
It had done brave work,
Had thrashed the enemies,
So that shade came to the weak,
And peace came to the weary! —
Dear son of Kalev,
Kingly, mighty man!
When anger kindles in you,
When fury of spirit rises
On the swell of ale-rage,
Then there are no bonds,
No wise counsel to restrain you;
Your light hand in its whirling
Drives the sword to kill,
To spill innocent blood!
That is what grieved the war-companion,
What saddened the precious iron.
The sword mourns the man,
The master's dear son."
The Curse
Kalev's son understood,
Understood at once the little sword,
And sang back into the waves:
"Sleep, sleep, little sword,
In your peace-bed, little iron,
Father's uncle's sweat-eater,
Tormentor of the uncle's sons,
Who forged you in secret,
Fashioned you with power-words!
Sleep, you, sword, for a man's age,
Slumber in your cold bed
At the water-maiden's play,
As a sign for future generations,
As a memorial for the sons of men!
I have strength in excess,
Toughness enough in my hands —
I think even without your help
I can defeat the enemies,
Punish the stubborn,
Make peace for the weary. —
Hear me, sword, precious iron,
Mark what I sing to you:
If it happens that brave men,
Strong men of the future age,
Come walking by the Kääpa's bank —
Then, sword, dear friend,
Gleam back from the waves!
If there comes my kinsman,
A child of Kalev's line,
A relative of Sulev,
A wise one of Alev:
Then, sword, dear friend,
Sing back from the waves!
If there come past the Kääpa
Singers with eloquent lips,
Proclaimers with golden tongues,
Silver-word weavers,
Drawers of ancient copper —
Then, sword, dear friend,
Call back unbidden
With a bird's singing voice,
With a nightingale's night-long song,
With a lark's trilling!
If there comes one day in the future,
At the feast of a better age,
A man worthy of me —
Then, sword, dear friend,
Rise from the waves in a rush,
Roll yourself out of the water
Into the brave man's hand as a gift!
But if it happens that there steps into the river
The foot of the one who once carried you himself —
Then, sword, dear friend,
Cut off both his legs!"
The Three Forests
Kalev's dear son
Hurried at a quick pace
Back toward the shore of Lake Peipsi,
Took the pile of boards on his back,
The load he had carried from afar,
And set off swiftly walking,
Treading the homeward road.
He meant to build a shelter,
A fortress-wall against the enemy,
To fashion a stronghold,
A peace-haven for the weary,
A weeping-room for the maidens,
A mourning-chamber for the widows,
From which, when war's ravages
Came rolling to Viru's borders,
The weak would find a refuge.
When now Kalev had shortened
A stretch of road, a stretch of ground
With flying strides,
Had gone along bearing his load,
What comes to meet him?
What blocks his path?
There came three forests,
A meeting of lovely groves:
One was a golden spruce-forest,
The second a broad grove-forest,
The third a thick hazel-forest.
The golden spruce-forest —
That was our men's forest;
The broad grove-forest —
That was our women's forest;
The thick hazel-forest —
That was the maidens' hiding-place,
The orphans' shelter,
The refuge of the desperate.
The Little Man's Tale
Kalev's dear son
Walked through the spruce-forest,
Flew through the grove-forest,
Strode through the hazel thicket,
When unexpectedly his foot
Was blocked by a dead stump,
His ankle snagged.
When he bent down to look,
Began to figure the matter —
Who had snagged his ankle,
Who had blocked his step —
Out from behind the bushes crept
A little boy,
A tiny man trembling,
Who in every way
Appeared like a man of our own time.
The little man, the feeble one,
Had trousers sifting with fright,
His jaws clattering with terror,
As he began caressing Kalev's son,
Pleading in a honeyed voice:
"Have mercy, brother,
Save the poor, mighty son!
Give a little peace-haven,
A hiding-place for the small one,
Whom the bonds of misfortune
Drove fleeing into the brush!"
Kalev's mighty son,
Stooping down,
Reached out his hand
And grabbed the little one by the topknot,
Lifted him up high
And dropped him into his neck-pouch.
The little man tumbled down
As into a canyon,
Deep into the pouch's corner.
There on the edge of a herring-box,
On a bread-cake he found support,
Where he could set his feet.
Kalevipoeg began to ask:
"What raised such fear in you,
What bred such terror?"
The small man's answer
Came from the bread-pouch cave
As though from the deepest well
A little frog were croaking:
"Yesterday evening at twilight
I was wandering near the lake,
Walking in the shore-spruces,
When from the road, by accident,
I unluckily went astray.
Following the path
I came upon a small farmstead.
I stood at the cottage door
Asking for a resting-place.
In the back wall of the great room,
Near the fireplace,
There sat alone an old woman,
Preparing a bowl of food.
The old woman was cooking pea-soup,
A meat-lump in the middle,
And gave me from her gentle mercy
A bowlful of the precious food;
She told me to hurry my teeth,
To shorten the bread-taking;
Then she prepared a little bed
On straw upon the floor,
Under the wide eating-table,
In the middle of the room beneath the table.
The old woman instructed:
'Creep, you feeble little son,
Little piglet, into the straw to rest,
Before my young sons
Come home from their travels.
Be quiet as a little mouse
Behind a chest, afraid of the cat!
If you should start to squeak
Or scratch with your hands,
Or clatter with your shins,
Our good fellows
Could deal you death.'
I thanked the old woman,
Gave her my gratitude,
She who had filled my belly,
Prepared my bedding,
Given me good advice.
Then I crept quietly into the straw,
Under the wide eating-table,
To stretch my weary back,
Where there was comfortable room
For three more men besides.
With drowsy eyes drifting apart
I noticed a rumbling
Coming from afar to my ears;
The ground rose with the rumble,
The walls shook at the footsteps.
Though fear in my ears
Was growing the roaring louder,
Still your footsteps,
Kalev's heavy tread,
Produced nothing greater.
A short time later
The men stormed into the room,
Both mighty as bears,
Forest creatures raised in the woods.
One of them like a hunting dog
Immediately began sniffing with his nose,
Sifting scent through his nostrils,
Then spoke thus:
'Listen, dear old mother,
Who has been here today?
The steam of human sweat
Sifts into my nostrils,
Tickling my snout.'
The old woman understood and answered:
'No stranger has been rolling about here,
No creature stirring here —
Nobody has been here today.
What sifts into your nostrils,
The scent of human sweat,
You brought that from the wind,
You smelled it in the air before.'
The old woman brought food to the table
For her sons' supper:
Bowls bigger than bushels,
Spoons as wide as ladles.
What the forest-creatures ate,
Gorged into their hollow bellies,
Would have been enough to fill
Fifty men of my own size —
Made of mortal human stock.
When the forest-fellows
Had stuffed their bellies full,
They stretched their bodies
On the floor to rest.
One lay down by the front wall,
The other by the back wall,
And I, poor wretch, between them
In the middle of the room under the table.
The old woman climbed
Up on the loft-beams to doze.
Fear kept me from breathing,
My veins from trembling,
My jaw dared not chatter,
My teeth dared not show their fright:
Lest by some chance
I should fall under their eyes,
Drop into their hearing.
At last the firelight dimmed,
The pine-splint by the stove went out.
Darkness hid the great room,
Covered my fear in shadow.
Oh, poor little man that I am!
Had I known beforehand,
Known before, understood ahead,
Noticed in my sleep,
Guessed in my dreams,
What longer suffering
Was yet to come upon my life,
Then I would have thrown myself into the waves,
Plunged into the abyss,
Sunk to the sea-floor!
The forest-sons were sleeping
Deeply in sleep's embrace;
Fur-blankets covered their eyes,
Curtains their viewing-gates;
But the true back-door,
The rear-end's exit,
Was left open, unlocked.
The vain pea-soup,
Greased with pork-fat,
Was pressing the bellies to swell,
Began to raise steam,
To produce secret wind,
A burning blast of gas.
On the right side by the wall
The dozing forest-son
Let fly his first volley
With a shattering crack!
And I, little bird, was sent flying
By the trousers-wind's force,
I flew like a leaf
Clear across the room to the other wall.
On the left side by the wall
The dozing forest-son
Had set his eyes toward the wall
Just as his brother had done —
His rear end aimed at me,
Stretched toward the outside.
He released a swelling gust
With a shattering crack —
And I, little bird, was sent flying,
At storm-speed whirling,
By the trousers-wind's force,
I flew like a leaf
Clear across the room to the other wall.
Meanwhile the other brother
Had prepared a new volley,
Which sent me, poor wretch, without pause
Flying before the other cannon.
Thus I had to, poor and wretched,
Go tumbling,
All the long night without rest,
Sailing from wall to wall;
By the trousers-wind's force
I had to, wretched, sail
Like a spool in a weaver's hand,
Shuttling from edge to edge.
I got not a moment,
Not a breath of rest.
The old woman went before dawn,
Bladder-need driving her, to the door,
Set the door ajar;
And I, quick on her heels,
On tiptoe out the door.
By lucky chance I reached the yard,
Set fire to my feet,
And started running;
I ran through the spruce-forest,
Through the broad grove-forest,
I reached at last the hazel-forest,
Crept behind a bush,
Where help unexpectedly
Came from your footsteps."
Kalev's mighty son
Laughed at the comical tale
Of how the little man
Had been sent flying by the trousers-wind,
Launched about like a bird,
With no chance to blink
Nor any moment's rest.
Colophon
Translated from the Estonian by the New Tianmu Anglican Church (Runotar, Uralic Alpha Translator, Life 16). Source text: Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald, Kalevipoeg (1857 first edition), as preserved in Project Gutenberg eBook #25062. The Estonian text is in the public domain.
This is the eleventh of twenty cantos. Cantos I–IX are published; Canto X is in preparation. The translation preserves the parallelism, alliteration, and trochaic rhythm of Estonian regivärss. No existing English translation was consulted as a source. The translator worked directly from the Estonian.
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Source Text: Kalevipoeg — Üheteistkümnendama Lugu
Estonian source text from Project Gutenberg eBook of Kalevipoeg by Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald (EBook #25062). The text is in the public domain. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.
Hämariku palgepuna
Palisteli pilvesida
Vikelisti viiruliseks,
Kullakarva keeruliseks
Uue päeva iluduseks,
Kui ju Kalevite poega
Ärksail silmil asemelta
Kargas üles kõndimaie.
Virgal pole viibimista,
Kiirel kuskil kõhelusta.
Karastava kaste′ella
Sammusida sirutelles
Kõndis kange mehepoega -
Pärast võetud linnupetet -
P e i p s i j ä r v e ranna poole;
Lõhkus mööda metsasida,
Üle laiu lagedaida,
Läbi paksu põõsastiku,
Siis veel tüki samblasooda,
Mõne tüki mätastikku,
Kuhu teed ei olnud tehtud,
Rada ette rajatatud.
Kus ta tormas laane kaudu,
Sinna tänav siginekse,
Kus ta sõtkus sooda mööda,
Kaevandikku kasvanekse,
Kus ta kõndis künkelikku,
Sile sammul sündinekse;
Künkad läksid küüruselle,
Madalamaks mõni mägi,
Kuhu kanda kauemini,
Varvas juhtus viibimaie.
Järve äärde jõude′ essa
Viibis Kalev vaatamaie,
Kas ei kuskilt koormakandjaks
Parajada paadikesta,
Lotja juhtuks leidemaie.
Langevaile lainetelle
Silmi kaugel′ sirutelles
Polnud näha paadikesta,
Lotja kuskil ligemalta.
Kalev kääris kuuehõlmad
Voltidesse vöö vahele,
Siisap suisa sammumaie,
Laintest läbi lõhkumaie.
Vaataksid sa, vennikene,
Kalda äärest tema käiki,
Lennus kõndi lainetessa,
Näeks ei noorem nugissilma
Kogunisti teista kallast,
Kuhu mees võiks kuivikulle
Kanda jälle kinnitada,
Varbailt vetta valgutada.
Kalevite kange poega
Pidand ei tee pikkusesta,
Vesiraja ränkusesta
Sammudelle sidujaida;
Lõhkus aga lustilikult
Lahkel meelel laineida,
Tuiskas vetta tolmamaie,
Kõrge′elle kerkimaie,
Valges vahus vihisema.
Kalad põhjas kohkusivad,
Vähid urkas vabisesid,
Lagled läksid lainte alla,
Pardid pakku pilliroogu
Mehesammu müdinalla.
Kes see oleks kogemata
Sellel päeval juhtund sinna,
See küll oleks omil silmil
Võinud näha võõrikuida
Salaasju sündimassa,
Imelikku ilmumassa.
Paksu võsandiku varjul
Seisis peidus sortsilane,
Peipsi ranna parem tarka.
Mehike kui metsaline
Karvu kasvand üle keha,
Orikana harjaline
Kui üks kahejalgne karu.
Seasõõrik pilusilmad
Seisid rähmasidemessa,
Käias ilakammitsassa;
Laia suu soppidesta
Valge ila vahuteli
Kui sel kuldil kihvadesta;
Kassivärki kärssas koonu
Küllalt näitas kadedusta.
Kahejalgne karvaline,
Mehekomblik metsaline,
Sugult soolasortsilane,
Tükati ka tuuletarka,
Mõnes tükis manatarka,
Laulusõna lobiseja,
Abisõna arutaja,
Tuulevile tuuseldaja,
Oskas nõia-arpu lüüa,
Sõelukesta seadaneda,
Varga kuju võtme abil
Viinaklaasi valmistada,
Vihtlemisel viha võtta,
Paha panna teise peale,
Vihkamista viletsalle,
Viirastusi vähendada,
Tondi teeda takistada;
Oskas arvu arstimisi,
Tuulest tervist talitada,
Nikastusi nõrgendada,
Tõukamisi tasutella,
Asemelta läinud liiget
Punalõngal paigutada,
Muhutõbe muisutada,
Kõhuvoolmeid näpistada.
Oskas verepide-sõnu,
Teadis tule takistusi,
Valusõnu ussi vastu,
Sammaspoole salasõnu,
Maast saand viga magajalle
Hõbevalgel õiendada,
Kõhetuma kinniskasvu
Koerasöögil kohendada,
Väeteid lapsi vaigistada,
Vihtlemisel nuttu võtta;
Oskas rabandusesõnu,
Vahvaid elitingi vastu,
Teisi veel ehk tosinalla
Hambavalu võttemiseks,
Hallitõve arstimiseks,
Teha soolatopsikesi,
Valmistada nõiavihku,
Kaitsekeppi kerjuselle,
Küllusnooli küttidelle,
Õnneõnge kalamehel′,
Nurjavõtjat noorikulle;
Oskas vana Tühja teeda
Sambla alta seletada,
Varanduse vedajaida
Ristiteedel elustada,
Tule tähel rahaauku
Ööde varjul õnneks saada.
Täna mees ei teinud tulu,
Kui ta kaldal kükakili
Tuulesõnu tugevasti
Puhus Peipsi järve peale
Lainetelle lennutuseks,
Kaleville kiusatuseks.
Vesi kerkis veerlemaie,
Lained kõrgel′ lendamaie.
Kaugelt paistab kalda′asse
Petteline pildikene,
Mis kui mehe maalikene,
Kehakomblik kujukene
Pool veel lainte peitusella,
Vetevoli vangistuses;
Kerkib korra kõrgemalle,
Langeb jälle lainetesse.
Ehk küll kümme versta kaugel
Rändaja veel rannasta,
Kujukene kõikunekse,
Siiski paistab selgelt silma
Meie mehe määraline
Lainte pinnalt läikimassa.
Koorem raske piinab pihta,
Käänab selga küürutama,
Siiski tõttab kiirel sammul
Koormakandja kalda poole,
Kasvab ikka kõrgemaksi,
Tõuseb ikka tähtsamaksi.
Sortsi poja puhumine
Puistab lained pilla-palla
Vetekiigel veerlemaie,
Kus nad kõrgel kerkisivad,
Vahtus mehe reite vastu.
Naerdes lainekeste nalja,
Möllamise mängikesta
Hüüab Kalevite poega:
"Oi, oi! vaata oidukesta!
Kipub kastma kellukesta!
Toho, toho, p..selompi!
Tahad tõusta mehe tilli?"
Veel ei olnud tundi viibind,
Kõndis juba koormakandja
Kalevipoeg kuivikulle.
Ei küll meie päevil hobu
Ega parem härjapaari
Koormat jõuaks kergitada,
Mis seal kandis kange meesi.
Kalevite kallis poega
Toonud Pihkvast turjatäie
Lunastatud linnalaudu,
Kust saab tuge kurbadelle,
Varju vanaraukadelle,
Nutunurka neidudelle,
Leinapaika leskedelle,
Tõuseb tulu teistelegi.
Lauakoorem polnud suuri
Ega olnud väga väike,
Paras mehe pihaline:
Tosinate arvult täitis
Kaksikümmend mehe koormat,
Paar veel lisaks peale pandud;
Polnud lauad paksusella
Kuskil üle kolme tolli
Ega läinud laiuselta
Kuskil üle kahe jala,
Ega olnud pikkuselta
Kuskil üle kümne sülla.
See′ p see Kalevite seljas
Kantud lauakoormakene,
Mis seal meesi muru peale
Ladus virna lagedalle.
Võttis siis mõõga vöölta,
Tõmbas välja tupe seesta,
Tahtis lainte tõstijalle,
Vete pillipuhujalle
Tööpalka tasudella.
Aga virgad varbakesed,
Kerged jalakannakesed
Viinud sortsi, vennikese,
Pimedama metsa paksu
Paguurgast otsimaie.
Kalevite kanget poega
Vesirada väsitanud,
Lauad pihta pigistanud,
Sellepärast jättis sortsi,
Kelmikese kiusamata,
Hakkas laia lagedalle
Öömaja asutelles
Sängikesta seademaie;
Võttis järvekalda veerest
Hõlmatäie sõmeraida,
Kuiva liiva liivikulta,
Kandis tüki kaugemalle,
Laotas maha lagedalle:
Sest sai kuiva küljeaset,
Sängi väsind suikujalle.
Kalevite kallis poega,
Kui oli võtnud toitu kotist,
Märga lähkrist maitsenud
Tülpind keha toetuseks,
Päästis tupe paelusta,
Võttis mõõga vöölta,
Pani pahemalle poole
Sängi kõrva seisemaie,
Et kui häda, äpardusta
Kuskilt tuleks kogemata,
Sõbralikku sõjariista
Kohe satuks käe alla.
Sirutas siis liivasängi
Väsimusta vähendama,
Piinat′ pihta painutama,
Pööras pea õhtu poole,
Jalad vastu hommikuda,
Kulmud otse vastu koitu,
Kustap varem koiduvalge,
Päikeseneiu pale
Noore päeva rüppe′esta
Kiirest′ silma kerkinekse,
Laugudelle langenekse;
Kust, kui kogemata korral
Väsind mees saaks viibimaie
Kauemini une kaissu,
Koitu tuleks kutsumaie,
Valgus meesta virgutama.
Parem käsi seisis sirul
Vartade ja lõuna vastu,
Kura käsi kõveriti
Vana põhja-Vankri vastu.
Väsind silmad vajusivad
Rutust unerakke′esse,
Kiirest′ uinu kammitsasse;
Unenäol ei olnud aega
Magajada mängitada
Valekuju valmistelles
Ega tõsist tähendelles.
Üürikese aja pärast
Norin juba täitis nurme
Maapinda põrutelles,
Metsasida müdistades,
Järve laineid kõrgendades,
Kui oleks Äike ähvardelles,
Pikseisa pilvedesta
Tuuleõhku tallamassa,
Suisa-päisa sõitemassa.
Peipsi sortsi peidupakus,
Kes end nagu vähki urkas
Päevavalgelt oli peitnud,
Kuulis kange mehe kõlast
Magamise märkisida;
Astus sammul argelisti
Salamahti sängi poole,
Kikivarbail vaatamaie,
Kust see kõla kostanekse.
Põõsa varjul võõritie
Silmas Kalevite sängis
Mõõga kõrval magajada;
Läks siis sammul ligemalle
Argelikult astudessa,
Kassivarbail kõndidessa:
Kas saaks mõõka mehe käesta
Vargaküüsil ära viia?
Mehikene lootis mõõka
Salamahti sängi pealta
Künka kõrvalta käpata.
Mõnus Kalevite mõõka,
Mehe võimu määraline,
See ei hoolinud sortsista;
Magas aga muru pealla
Liikumata mehe ligi,
Kui oleks kinni kasvanud,
Juuril maasse juurdunud.
Ega võinud varga võimu
Kallist mõõka kergitada,
Mitte tõstagi murulta.
Soolasortsi, sõnatarka,
Kavalusi katsumaie,
Salakombeid sünnitama,
Tuuseldusi tembutama.
Katsus kiirest′ soola võimu,
Salakerkimise sõnu,
Tõstemise tugevusi,
Miska keret kergitakse,
Raskus ära rammestakse.
Kummardeli kuu poole,
Võimu lootes valgusesta,
Pööras silmad põhja poole
Laususõnu sigitelles,
Palvesõnu pobisedes.
Kallis mõõk ei kuulnud käsku,
Sõjasahk ei sortsi sõnu,
Magas aga muru pealla
Liikumata mehe ligi.
Soolasortsi, sõnatarka,
Mana kombel mängimaie,
Targemaida tempusida
Tõstemiseks toimetama.
Puistas pihlapuie lehti
Pihutäie mõõga peale,
Kandis kokku kaetisrohtu,
Korjas nõiakoldasida,
Otsis kokku hooramarju,
Sületäie sõnajalgu,
Puistas kõik need mõõga peale,
Rohkest′ ülekäija-rohtu,
Ämmatussu musta tolmu
Puistas mõõgatera peale,
Tegi siis veel teisi tempe,
Viis veel ise võõrikuida,
Sosis seitse salasõna
Sortsikuulla sõlmitatud,
Küünlakuulla karastatud,
Kooljakuulla kokku pandud.
Jaaniöösi õnnelilled,
Võimustatud nõia vihtel,
Värvitud värdja verella,
Veristas nimeta sõrme
Mõõgahoidja meeleheaksi,
Luupainaja lepituseks,
Suitsuteli nõiaküüsi,
Neitsisärgi narmaida.
Mõõka hakkas märkamaie
Manasõna meelitusi,
Hakkas löest liikumaie,
Keskelt juba kerkimaie,
Kerkis vaksa, kerkis kaksi,
Kasvas ikka kõrgemalle,
Kuni puutus sortsi kaenla.
Soolasortsi, sõnatarka,
Vargust ära vedamaie.
Mõõka koormas mehikesta,
Piinas väga pihtasida.
Rasket rauakesta kandes
Puhkis, ähkis poisikene.
Palav higi palgeilta
Kattis juba üle keha;
Mees ei jäta siiski mõõka.
"Enne peaks käsi katkema,
Enne elu mul lõppema,
Muidu ma ei jäta mõõka!"
Soolasortsi, sõnatarka,
Kandis mõõgakuningada,
Soome sepa higisööjat,
Poegade käte piinajat,
Salateedel mitu sammu,
Puhkas vahel põõsastikus,
Enne kui jõudis edasi.
Kui ta K ä ä p a kalda pealta
Üle jõe hüpatelles
Teise kalda peale kargas,
Kukkus mõõka kogemata
Varga kaenlast vete sülle,
Sügavasse laintesängi,
Salaurka suikumaie.
Soolasortsi, sõnatarka,
Kohe abi kutsumaie.
Pani sõnad lendamaie,
Laususõnad sõudemaie,
Meelitavad mängimaie,
Tuulesõnad tuiskamaie,
Veesõnad veeremaie,
Manasõnad meelitama,
Teised targad tõstemaie -
Kas ehk mõõka kerkinekse,
Laintest raske liikunekse?
Mõnus Kalevite mõõka,
Mis ei kuulnud nõia käsku
Ega sortsi sundimista,
Laintesse jäi liikumata,
Kääpa põhja kerkimata.
Kui ju hommikusta koitu
Taeva veeres tõusenekse,
Punus sortsi putkamaie,
Tuli püksis kihutajaks!
Jättis mõõga jõepõhja
Mudasängi magamaie,
Puges metsa paksustikku
Varjupaika püüdemaie,
Kus ei Kalevite kiuste
Vaenuviha poleks karta.
Koidutera kutsumisel
Ärkas väiksel hämarusel
Kallis Kalevite poega.
Silmi unest selgitelles
Katsus kohe vahva käsi
Sängi kõrvalt seltsimeesta,
Kuhu õhtul enne uinu
Sõjariista sängitanud,
Mõõga pannud magamaie.
Mõnus mõõk ei olnud murul,
Sõjasahk ei sambelilla.
Kalevite kallim poega
Võõrast lugu vaatamaie.
Silmi selgeks sõeludelles
Unekatte ummuksista,
Nägi kohe meesi noori,
Kuidas lugu siin on käinud.
Tunnistelles röövli teeda,
Sammuastmeid sambelasta,
Hakkas mõõka hüüdemaie,
Kadund sõpra kutsumaie:
"Kuule, mõõka, mis ma kukun,
Laulan leinas, linnukene!
Kuule venna kutsumista,
Sõbrakese soovimisi,
Mis ma õhkan metsadelle,
Lähetelen lagedaile,
Puhun paksu põõsastikku!
Vasta, tarka vennikene,
Kuku vastu küsijalle:
Kes sind öösel on käpanud,
Vargaküüsil ära viinud?
Uku silm on ülevalta,
Taaralaste taeva′asta
Varga sammusida vaatnud.
Jumalikud juhatused
Võivad asja õiendada.
Inimestel mõõga ime,
Tööde tarkus teademata:
Need ei võinud varganäpul
Rasket rauda ära kanda.
Soomes isa sugulane
Mõõga sala sünnitanud,
Raudakäpal iserammu
Tera sisse toimetanud,
Teinud seitse aastat tööda,
Teinud tööda, näinud vaeva
Kuninga mõõga kasuksi;
Võtnud rauda seitset värki,
Kardasida seitset keeret,
Liimind lõõtsa lõkendusel
Keermed kokku keradeksi, -
Sestap mõõka sünnitelles,
Vaenurauda valmistelles.
Laulnud seitse salalugu
Igal päeval enne koitu,
Vara enne valge′eda,
Karastanud seitsmel kaevul,
Vettind mõõka seitsme veega,
Seitsmel märjal mõõgatera.
Vars oli hõbevalge′esta,
Kupp oli kuldakollasesta,
Pannal paksusta paesta.
Küllap tunnen sortsi-kelmi,
Peipsi lainte paisutajat:
Vennike on mõõgavaras!
Soolasortsi sugulased
Vanast′ mulle vaenumehed,
Kurjad ikka kiusamassa.
Kui ma teda kogemata
Kulliküüsil kimbutelen,
Siisap tahan sajakordselt
Vaenukeha virutada.
Raske kaalus kallis rauda,
Mehe tarbeks tehtud mõõka,
Varga väetile võimule;
Kaugele ei võinud kanda
Sortsilane sõjasahka.
Kuule, mõõka, mis ma kukun,
Laulan leinas, linnukene!
Kuule venna kutsumista,
Sõbrakese soovimisi,
Mehe lahket meelitusta,
Mis ma õhkan metsadelle,
Lähetelen lagedaile,
Puhun paksu põõsastikku!
Vasta, tarka vennikene,
Kuku vastu küsijalle!"
Kalevite kange poega
Pööras kõrva kuulu poole,
Kas ehk mõõka vastu kostaks,
Kadund rauda kukkuneksi.
Vaikus aga maada varjas,
Kallis rahu ümberkaudu.
Kalevite kange poega
Laskis lendu teise laulu,
Laulis kolmandama loo
Meelitaval mesikeelel:
Kas ehk mõõka kutsumista,
Peremehe palumista
Kusagilta võtaks kuulda?
Mõnus mõõk ei annud märku,
Sõber kuskilt sõnakesta.
Vaikus maada varjanekse,
Kallis rahu ümberkaudu
Kattis laaned ja lagedad.
Kalevite kange poega
Oma mõõka otsimaie,
Tuule teesid tallamaie,
Käis ta kaua ümberkaudu,
Laskis ringi laiemalta,
Kõndis ikka kaugemalta
Sängi ümber sõõritie;
Rändas läbi rägastikud,
Piki-põiki põõsastikud,
Metsad läbi, mätastikud,
Sõudis tüki sula sooda,
Laulis kutselugusida
Meelitaval mesikeelel.
Mõnus mõõk ei annud märki,
Vaikus maada varjanekse,
Kallis rahu ümberkaudu
Kattis laaned ja lagedad.
Kui nüüd Kalevite poega
Oma mõõga otsimisel
Kääpa jõe kallastelle
Sammusida oli sõudnud:
Vaat! seal läikis alla vetta
Hiilgav mõõka ilusasti
Sõbranäolla naeratelles.
Kalevipoeg pajatama:
"Hoho, mõõka, hüva rauda!
Siin sa magad salamahti
Vilus vetevoodi′issa?
Mehe mõõka mõnusama,
Valusam verevalaja,
Isa lelle higisööja,
Lellepoegade piinaja!
Kes sind oskas kergitada,
Vete alla ära viia,
Lainte alla langutada?
Kes sind, mõõka, siia kandis?"
Mõõka mõistis mehe kutsu,
Laulis vastu lainetesta,
Pajatas kui pardikene:
"Soolasortsi, sõnatarka,
See′p see mõõga salamahti
Tõstis murult tõusemaie,
Kanarbikust kerkimaie.
Sortsisõnad soovitasid,
Manasõnad meelitasid,
Tuulesõnad tõstatasid,
Kolla õilmed kergitasid,
Sõnajalg seadis alta,
Pihlapuu see aitas pealta,
Hooramari otsadelta,
Kaetisrohtu keske′ elta,
Metsahumur, ämmatussu
Tagant ise tõukasivad -
Needap seitse sellikesta
Tegid mõõga tõusemaie.
Soolasortsi, sõnatarka,
Kannud mõõga Kääpa′ alle.
Kui ta kaldalt kargamassa
Paoteele põgenedes,
Nägin näkineitsikesta
Lainte alta luurimassa,
Mis mind, mõõka, meeliteli
Vete kaissu veeremaie,
Lainte alla langemaie.
Sealap lustil libisesin,
Kargasingi sortsi kaenlast
Lipsti! alla lainetesse,
Sügavasse jõesängi,
Kus mul kuldane pesake,
Hõbesängi näki toassa,
Vetepiiga vaiba alla."
Kalevite kange poega
Mõistis mõõka, laulis vastu:
"Kas siis mõõgal on mõnusam,
Parem pidu on peidussa,
Laintesängis laiseldessa
Näkineitsi naljatusel,
Ehk kas vahva mehe käessa,
Kange võimu keeritusel,
Sõjamängi möllusessa,
Kus, kui mõõka kütke′esta,
Paelust lahti päästetakse,
Vahvat tööda valmistakse,
Vaenlasi vemmeldakse,
Verega sind võietakse,
Higiga sind ihutakse?"
Mõõka mõistis, kostis vastu,
Laulis vastu lainetesta:
"Mõõka lesena leinassa
Vetevoogude vangissa.
Igatsedes endist ilu,
Neiu lusti nurmedelta,
Vesi laugelt veerenekse,
Pisar piki palge′elta.
Vetesängis suikudessa,
Laintevoodis laiseldessa
Näkineitsi naljatusel
Või ei mõõka võõrduneda
Endist ilu igatsedes,
Kus ta võimu keeritusel
Sõjamängi möllusella
Toimetanud vahvat tööda,
Kus, kui korra kütke′esta,
Pääses lahti paeluksesta,
Vahvat tööda valmisteli,
Vaenlasi viruteli,
Nii et varju nõtradelle,
Rahu tuli raukadelle! -
Kallis Kalevite poega,
Kuninglikku kange meesi!
Sul, kui viha süttinekse,
Meeletuska tõusenekse
Humalaviha volilla,
Siis ei ole sidemeida,
Tarka aru takistamas;
Kerge käsi keeritelles
Sunnib mõõka surmamaie,
Vaga verda valamaie!
See′ p see sõjasellikesta,
Kallist rauda kurvasteli.
Mõõka leinab mehekesta,
Peremehe pojukesta."
Kalevite poega mõistis,
Mõistis kohe mõõgakesta,
Laulis vastu lainetesse:
"Maga, maga, mõõgakene,
Rahusängis, rauakene,
Isa lelle higisööja,
Lellepoegade piinaja,
Kes sind sala sünnitanud,
Võimusõnul valmistanud!
Maga sa, mõõka mehe-eane,
Suigu vilussa sängissa
Näkineitsi naljatusel
Tulevpõlvede täheksi,
Mehepoegade mälestuseks!
Mul on jõudu ülemäära,
Kätel kangusta karrata,
Arvan ehk sinu abita
Vaenlasi võitaneda,
Kangekaelsust karistada,
Rahu teha raukadelle. -
Kuule, mõõka, kallis rauda,
Märka, mis ma laulan sulle:
Kui ehk juhtub vahvaid mehi
Tulev-ajal tugevaida
Kääpa kaldal kõndimaie,
Siisap, mõõka, sõbrakene,
Läigi vastu lainetesta!
Kui saab käima minu kaimu,
Kalevite kasvandikku,
Sulevite sugulane,
Alevite aruline:
Siisap, mõõka, sõbrakene,
Laula vastu lainetesta!
Kui saab käima Kääpa kaudu
Lausasuuga laulikuida,
Kuldakeelil kuulutajaid,
Hõbesõna sõlmijaida,
Vanavaskede vedajaid,
Siisap, mõõka, sõbrakene,
Kuku vastu kutsumata
Linnukeelil lõõritelles,
Öö-pika hõiskamisel,
Lõokese lõksutusel!
Tuleb korra tulevpäevil
Parema põlve pidudel
Minuvääriline meesi,
Siisap, mõõka, sõbrakene,
Tõuse laintest tuhinalla,
Veere ise veesta välja
Vapra käele vaderiksi!
Kui aga juhtub kõndidessa
Jalakanda pistma jõkke,
Kes sind enne i s e k a n n u d:
Siisap, mõõka, sõbrakene,
Murra jalad tal mõlemad!"
Kalevite kallis poega
Kihuteli kiirel käigil
Peipsi järve ranna poole,
Võttis selga lauavirna,
Kaugelt toodud koormakese,
Rutusti siis rändamaie,
Koduteeda kõndimaie.
Tahtis teha tugipaika,
Varjuseina vaenu vastu,
Kantsikesta kohendada
Rahuurkaks raukadelle,
Nutukambriks neidudelle,
Leinatoaks leskedelle,
Kust, kui sõja kurnatused
Viru piiri veereksivad,
Nõdrad saaksid rahunurka.
Kui nüüd Kalev tüki teeda,
Tüki teeda, marga maada
Lendavsammul lühendanud,
Koorma kandemisel käinud,
Mis tal vastuje tulekse?
Mis tal käiki kinnitakse?
Vastu tuli kolme metsa,
Vastu kena vaarikuida.
Üks oli kulda kuusemetsa,
Teine laia laanemetsa,
Kolmas paksu pähklimetsa.
Mis oli kulda kuusemetsa,
See′ p see meie meeste metsa;
Mis oli laia laanemetsa,
See′ p see meie naiste metsa;
Mis oli paksu pähklimetsa,
See′ p see piiga peidupaika,
Vaestelaste varjutuba,
Hädaliste reduurgas.
Kallis Kalevite poega
Käis siis läbi kuusemetsa,
Lendas läbi laanemetsa,
Sammus läbi sarapiku,
Kui tal jalga kogemata
Tüma tompu takistamas,
Jalaketra kutistamas.
Kui ta lugu luurimaie,
Asja hakkas arvamaie,
Kes tal ketra kutistanud,
Jalakanda takistanud,
Puges põõsastiku varjust,
Puges väike poisikene,
Väike meesi vabisedes,
Kes kui meieaegne meesi
Igapidi ilmunekse.
Väiksel mehel, väetikesel,
Sõelusivad püksid püüli,
Lõuad hirmul lõksutasid,
Kui ta Kalevite poega
Paitelles palumaie,
Mesikeelil meelitama:
"Heida armu, vennikene,
Päästa vaesta, kange poega!
Anna rahu-urkakesta,
Varjupaika väiksemalle,
Keda õnnetuse kütke
Põõsastikku ajas pakku!"
Kalevite kange poega
Küürakille kummardelles
Sasis kätta sirutelles
Kõhetuma tutist kinni,
Keda tõstes kõrgemalle
Kaelakotti kukuteli.
Väike meesi veerenekse,
Kui oleks kuristikuhauda,
Sügavalle kotisoppi.
Sealap silgukarbi servast,
Leivakakust tuge leidis,
Kuhu jalga kinniteli.
Kalevipoeg küsimaie:
"Mis sul kartust kasvatanud,
Suure hirmu sünnitanud?"
Väikse mehikese vastus
Kostis leivakoti koopast,
Kui oleks sügavamast kaevust
Konnakene krooksutanud:
"Eile õhtul eha ajal
Luusisin järve ligidal,
Kõndisin kaldakuusikus,
Kui ma teelta kogemata
Õnnetumalt läksin eksi.
Rada mööda rännatessa
Tuli vastu väike talu.
Mina hurtsiku uksella
Puhkepaika palumaie.
Suure toa tagaseinas
Leeaugu ligidalla
Istus üksi vanaeite,
Vaagna moona valmistelles.
Eite keetis herneivi,
Kamaratükk keske′ella,
Andis mulle heldest armust
Kausitäie kallist toitu;
Käskis hambaid kiirustada,
Leivavõtet lühendada;
Seadis ise sängikesta
Põhkudelle põrmandalle
Laia söömalaua alla,
Keset tuba laua kohta.
Eidekene õpetama:
"Poe sa, väeti pojukene,
Põrsas, põhku puhkamaie,
Enne, kui mul pojad noored
Käigilt jõuavad koduje.
Ole vait kui hiirekene
Kassi hirmul kirstu taga!
Kui sa hakkaks kiiksumaie
Või ehk kätel krabistama,
Kintsudella kolistama,
Võiksid meie vennikesed
Surma sulle sigitada."
Mina eite tänamaie,
Aituma andemaie,
Kes mul täitnud kõhukesta,
Sängiaset seadinud,
Hüva õpetuse annud.
Pugesin siis vaikselt põhku,
Laia söömalaua alla
Väsind selga sirutama,
Kus veel kolmele mehele
Parajasti puhkepaika.
Laugu silmil lahutelles
Märkasin ma müdisemist
Kaugelt kõrva kostemaie;
Muru kerkis müdinalla,
Sammu astel vankus seina.
Kui ka kartus minu kõrvas
Kärinada kasvatamas,
Siiski sinu jalasammu,
Kalevite raske kanda,
Suuremat ei sünnitanud.
Üürikese aja pärast
Tormasivad mehed tuppa,
Kanged mõlemad kui karud,
Laanes kasvand metsalised.
Üks neist kui see jahikoera
Ninal kohe nuusutama,
Sõõrmeil haisu sõelumaie,
Pärast nõnda pajatama:
"Kuule, kulla eidekene,
Kes siin täna enne käinud?
Inimese higiauru
Sõelub mulle sõõrmetesse
Koonukesta kutistelles."
Eite mõistis, kohe kostis:
"Võõrast siin ei veeremassa,
Loomakesta liikumassa
Kuskil täna enne käinud.
Sõelub sulle sõõrmetesse
Inimese higihaisu,
Tuulesta sa seda toonud,
Õhust enne haisutanud."
Eit tõi rooga laua peale
Õhtusöögiks poegadelle:
Vaagnad suuremad kui vakad,
Lusikad kulbi laiused.
Sest, mis metsalised sõivad,
Õõnsa kõhtu õgisivad,
Küllalt võiksid täita kõhtu
Viiskümmend minuväärilist
Loodud inimeselasta.
Saivad metsalise sellid
Vatsad täide virutanud,
Siisap keha sirutasid
Põrmandalle puhkamaie.
Üks neist heitis ette seina,
Teine taha seina äärde,
Mina, väeti, nende vahel
Toa keskel laua alla.
Vana eite-rauka ronis
Parsipuile põõnutama.
Hirm mind keelas hingamasta,
Veresooni värisemast,
Lõug ei tohtind lõdiseda,
Hambad hirmu ilmutada:
Et ma kogemata korral
Silma neile poleks sattund,
Kõrvakuulmetesse kukkund.
Viimaks rauges tulevalgus,
Kustus piirgu ahju rinnal.
Pime peitis laia toa,
Kattis minu kartust kinni.
Oh ma vaene mehikene!
Oleksin ma enne teadnud,
Enne teadnud, ette mõistnud,
Magadessa märkaneda,
Unenäossa arvaneda,
Mis mul pikemada piina
Elus pidi ilmumaie,
Siis ma oleks lainetesse,
Kuristikku kukutanud,
Merepõhjaje pugenud!
Metsapojad uinusivad
Unerüppe usinasti;
Sõbanahka kattis silmad,
Vaipa vaateväravaida;
Aga päris väljaandja,
Tahaotsa tehtud värav,
Lahti jäänud, lukkamata.
Edev herneleemekene
Seakamaral silitud,
Pakkis vatsa paisumaie,
Hakkas auru ajamaie,
Salaõhku sünnitama,
Põlevada paugutuulta.
Paremal pool seina ääres
Põõnutaja metsapoega
Laskis esimese laengu
Prantsatelles paukumaie!
Mina, lindu, lendamaie
Püksituule pakitusel,
Lendasin kui liblekene
Üle tare teise seina.
Pahemal pool seina ääres
Põõnutaja metsapoega
Sedanud silmad vastu seina,
Nii kui teine venda teinud -
Tagupooli minu tappeks
Väljapoole venitatud.
Pani paisund tuulelaengu
Prantsatelles paukumaie -
Mina, lindu, lendamaie,
Tuulekiirul tuiskamaie
Püksituule pakitusel,
Lendasin kui liblekene
Üle tare teise seina.
Vaheajal teine venda
Uue laengu valmistanud,
Mis mind, vaesta, viibimata
Paiskas teise püssi ette.
Nõnda pidin, vaene vilets,
Vintsutelles veeremaie,
Pikka ööda puhkamata
Seinast seina sõudemaie;
Püksituule pakitusel
Pidin, vilets, purjetama,
Kui see kutspool kangru käessa
Servast serva sõudemaie.
Saand ei mahti silmapilku,
Puhkamise püsidusta.
Vanaeit läks enne valget
Põie pakil ukse ette,
Pani ukse praokille;
Mina kiirelt tema kannul
Kikivarbail uksest välja.
Õnnekorral pääsin õue,
Andsin tulda jalgadelle,
Pistsin kohe punumaie;
Jooksin läbi kuusemetsa,
Läbi laia laanemetsa,
Pääsin viimaks pähklimetsa,
Pugesin põõsa varjule,
Kus mul abi kogemata
Sinu käigista sigines."
Kalevite kange poega
Naljalugu naeremaie,
Mis oli väikest mehikesta
Püksituule pakitusel
Linnu kombel lennutanud,
Et ei mahti maigutada
Ega püsi puhka′ ella.
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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