The Enchanted Sleep

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 XII is the aftermath of the sword’s loss. Without his enchanted blade, Kalevipoeg must fight with a pine-staff and boards against the three sons of the Peipsi sorcerer — the same sorcerer who stole his sword in Canto XI. A hedgehog saves him with a single word of counsel, and Kalevipoeg rewards the creature with a scrap of his fur coat — the Estonian origin myth of why hedgehogs have spines on their backs but bare bellies. The foster-child riding in Kalevipoeg’s neck-pouch is found dead, crushed by the sorcerer’s sons’ millstone-whips. The sorcerer then binds the sleeping hero with enchanted herbs for seven weeks, during which Kalevipoeg dreams of the sword’s forging and the murdered smith’s son who appears in blood to warn against making weapons for a violent master. After waking, Kalevipoeg attempts to build a bridge across Lake Peipsi, saves a shepherd’s lamb from a wolf, and wades back toward Pskov. The canto closes with an extended interlude — an orphan herder boy sings four laments of his bitter life, and a forest maiden answers from an oak-tree with a prophecy: the boy finds a lark’s egg that transforms through five creatures — mouse, cat, dog, lamb, ewe — into his only comfort.

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 (#25062). The parallelism and alliteration of Estonian regivärss are preserved in the line structure. No existing English translation was consulted as a source.

Part One — The Ambush

(Lines 1–163)

As if from high upon the cliffs
A waterfall in foam came streaming,
From cloud-thick heights had sprinkled
Its misty steam into the valley,
Hissing, the body of the waves
In white foam rolling
Toward the sea had gone;

Or as a heavier hailcloud
At the thunder’s threatening
Had hidden the sun’s face:

So broke from the forest’s thickness
The enemy’s fellows
Upon Kalev’s son,
Who was carrying his load
In peace along the road.

As a bloodied bear,
A beaten forest creature,
Seeing the hunt’s pinching,
Death-agony’s squeezing,
Rushes upon the hunter —
Then perhaps, good fellow,
You can in your thoughts recall,
Perhaps judge the tale by quarter,
Guess the matter by its half:
How Kalev’s son
Punished the wicked ones,
Struck down the goblins,
Set to thrashing his enemies.

Go follow to the open field
To witness the battle,
To hear the tidings
From the furrows of ancient times,
To ransom the song-words
Where eagle-beaks had grown
Gold in the heather,
Scattered it across the field,
And geese had poured green silver
Upon the waters.

Kalev’s precious son
Had walked a stretch of road
With the board-load on his shoulders,
In the neck-pouch a foster-child,
A little man in hiding,
Who like a crayfish in its burrow
Was slumbering in sleep’s embrace,
Sweetly sleeping.

Kalev, passing through the forest,
Had broken a pine for a staff,
A pine-trunk for support.
It was not the very largest
Nor the least among the smallest:
When he’d snapped the crown
And taken a piece from the trunk,
The staff’s length appeared
Ten fathoms in height,
A couple of feet in thickness.

The cudgel, worthy of the man,
Could, should unexpected enmity
Come from somewhere to vex him,
Step forth as a helper.
In the manner of a sword the stick
Had to ward off the vexing forest-dogs,
The tearing-toothed pups,
From the road.

From the forest’s thickness like murderers
Three men flew to the open field
To vex the load-carrier;
The sons of the Peipsi sorcerer,
Fire-fork’s helpers,
Whom their father had sent
To vex Kalevipoeg.

The boys tore up trees,
From the earth some pines,
With which they struck at Kalev
With quick and agile hands.
Two of the sorcerer-rogues
Had whips with long lashes,
Maple whip-handles;
At the tips of the lashes were set,
By drag-knots, millstones,
So that the blows more pleasurably
Fell upon Kalev.

Part Two — Words of Peace

(Lines 165–235)

Kalev’s mighty son
Tries the annoyance,
The quarrel risen from empty wind,
To settle with kind words:

“Strife is the peace-breaker,
Quarrel the fire-starter!
Better peace as half an egg
Than war as an old hen.
Once, when I through the forest
Walked carrying my sword,
Then you did not seek my company
Nor see me even from afar!
In the bushes’ darkest thicket,
In the tangled undergrowth,
You were like crayfish in their burrows,
Moles hidden in the earth’s bosom,
Nor dared a single one
Set foot on the open field.

Pfah, wicked goblins!
Under twilight’s darkening,
Under evening’s covering hem,
Otherwise only the old Devil storms
With his hell-born sons.
Otherwise only revenants walk,
Wandering in the moonlight.
Cowardly-breeched boys
Otherwise attack only a man
Who has no sword in hand,
No war-weapon for companion.

Like wicked old women,
Three by evil’s force
Piling upon one!
In the old-taken way of war,
In men’s fighting-strife,
Man stands one against one
In enmity and battle.”

Part Three — The Fight and the Hedgehog’s Counsel

(Lines 237–361)

The sons of the Peipsi sorcerer,
Bear-den fosterlings,
Let their blows fall neatly
On Kalev’s son’s neck,
Raining upon his back,
Until the whip’s knob-stone
Fell upon his brow,
Landed on his eyelids.

“From long patience comes weeping,
From jesting comes pinching!”
So spoke Kalevipoeg.
Then he set to whirling the staff,
Wielding the pine-cudgel,
Cracking it upon the boys!

The old brittle pine-cudgel
Shattered into splinters,
The fragments flew far and wide,
Whirling in the wind’s speed.

Kalev’s mighty son
Reached for the board-load,
Took boards from the pile
With which to strike the men,
To comb the sorcerer’s sons.
At every sharper lash,
Every more bitter hooking,
A board was shattered
Upon the sorcerer’s sons’ backs.

Kalev took from his back-load
One board after another,
Wasted boards lavishly,
Used them up wholesale,
Thrashing the foemen,
Combing the sorcerer’s sons.

When the precious board-load
Began to shrink upon the man,
The boards from his shoulders running out,
The sorcerer’s sons pressed
More fiercely upon his body,
Trying Kalev’s son,
The mighty man, to harass.

By luck, at the right moment,
From the thickest bush,
A thin little pipe,
With gentle chime a little voice:

“Edgewise, edgewise,
Dear son of Kalev!”

Kalevipoeg understood at once
The friend’s word of counsel,
Hastened to obey the command,
Set the board edgewise,
Let it edge-on neatly
On the salt-sorcerers’ backs
Fall one by one.

The Peipsi salt-sorcerer’s sons,
Howling on the wolf-pipe,
Quickly fled.
If the sorcerer-rogues
Had not been hardened
By the sun’s lashing,
By rain’s whipping,
By the sorcery-fire’s smoking
Against blows,
Then the mighty man’s thrashing
Would have brought them death.

Part Four — The Hedgehog’s Coat

(Lines 363–545)

Kalev’s mighty son
Rested after the long fight
A little while from weariness,
Then he questioned thus,
Speaking to the bushes:

“Answer, strange little brother,
Piping-pipe little boy!
Who are you, little golden one,
Who gave me good counsel
When I was pressed tight?”

The piping-pipe little boy,
The wise little man,
Understood at once and answered:

“I myself, a tiny man,
A shirt-feeble hedgehog,
Was the counsel-whisperer,
The bearer of wise words.”

Kalev’s dearest son
Understood the tale, called to the forest,
Speaking to the bushes:

“Step out, little brother,
From the bush-thicket to the field!
Let a friend’s eyes
See your kind face!
With thanks I wish
To stroke your cheeks,
To show my gratitude.”

The little hedgehog answered,
Replied wisely to the caller:

“I cannot come from the bush’s shelter,
From my warm moss-bed,
Onto the dew-cold grass
In the twilight’s chill.
The Old Father, self-wise,
When creating the creatures,
Unhappily forgot
To give me a cloak of shelter,
A fur coat to cover my body.
If I, feeble one, by chance
Left my warm moss-bed
And went out to the field,
The cold would stiffen me,
The chill air would harm me.”

Kalev’s son replied:

“Listen, dear little brother,
Shirt-feeble hedgehog,
Step boldly to the field —
I will surely find a cloak,
A fur coat to arrange for you!”

From the bush-thicket’s shelter crept,
From the moss-bed, the hedgehog —
A small naked little brother.
Shivering in the cold he huddled,
Trembling like an aspen leaf.

Kalevipoeg, speaking:

“You rowed to me, hedgehog,
Good counsel in the hour of need,
When I was pressed tight.
Setting the boards edgewise
I conquered the foemen.
Howling like wolves
The boys fled.
As a token of my thanks
I wish to give you a little piece
Of fur coat as a gift,
To fashion a cloak of shelter,
A thorny servant-shirt,
With which you can drive
Honey-paw’s children,
Scratch-eye’s puppies,
From your den.”

While speaking, Kalev tore
From his fur coat’s hem
A small piece of bristle-skin
And tossed it to the hedgehog-brother.

In thanks the hedgehog wrapped
His gaunt little body
In the received warm cloak.
From the narrow piece of skin,
From that the hedgehog’s back got covering,
A coat for his sides;
His belly remained uncovered,
Bare the hedgehog-child’s feet.

From that was born for the hedgehog
A thorny servant-coat,
A protective furry cloak,
Which, when he curls his nose
And hunches his body into a ball,
Gives shelter against enemies,
A covering against the cold.

With his warm fur coat the hedgehog
Walked back to his moss-bed,
Under the bush to rest.

Part Five — The Death of the Little Man

(Lines 547–745)

Kalev’s mighty son
Wanted to arrange a bed,
To settle a sleeping-place
Where his battered body
Could stretch out.

The marshy swamp was waterlogged,
Surrounded the place all around,
Where there was no dry ground
Firm enough for a bed.

Kalev’s precious son
Set to making a bed:
Carried together from further off
Fine dry sand,
Poured it in a heap,
Standing in the shape of a bed.

He thought before sleeping
To take a little bread
For his weary body’s strengthening,
For his limbs’ renewal.
When he reached his hand
Into the neck-pouch, bending,
His thumb touched by chance
The cold body of the little man,
Who had stiffened in the pocket,
In slumber had received death.

The poor little man had slept,
Slumbered like a crayfish in its burrow,
When the fight suddenly arose
With the Peipsi sorcerer’s sons.
The sorcerers’ bitter blows,
The enemy-cudgel’s lashes
Had made the little man numb,
So that he moved no limb,
Did not wag even his tail.

Kalev drew from the neck-pouch
His cold-frozen companion,
Drew him out to the wind,
Looked at the little one’s injuries.
The old shadow of death
Showed from the boy’s cheeks,
Testified from his eyes,
From his slack jaw,
Was revealed from the mouth’s opening,
From his twisted lips.

Kalev’s dearest son
Set his words to rowing,
His laments to flowing:

“Oh you poor little brother,
Cold-frozen little companion,
You who hoped for a shelter,
A better hiding-place,
Closer to the strong one,
Safer with the powerful.

If I had known, could have known,
Seen it lightly in a dream,
Thought it while sleeping,
How you were to die —
Surely I would have left you home.

At home you were your father’s fortune,
Your mother’s cherished little one.
You were like an egg upon the grass,
An apple in the yard,
A nut upon the floor;
You were like a cuckoo on the roof,
A songbird in the grove.
You sang joy in bird’s tongue,
Cheered in nightingale’s voice,
Trilled in lark’s tongue,
Spoke in duck’s tune.

Then you came, berry, to other lands,
Shoot, to a stranger’s garden,
Bird, to other sands,
Goose, to other springs,
Where the water rolled you,
Where the wind’s gust pushed you.

Wretchedness’s little rain,
Misfortune’s heavier hail —
Those made your death.

The sorcerer’s sons’ assaults,
Their wicked rushings,
Confused my thoughts,
Drove away my senses,
When I forgot you in the pouch,
Thinking bread was resting there,
A herring-box slumbering.
The men’s murderous clubs,
Crashing heavy against the pouch,
Struck the man in the pocket.”

Kalev’s precious son
Dug with his hand a little grave,
A pretty bed in the marsh,
Buried the little man
To slumber a long sleep;
Covered him with tussocks,
Smoothed him with mosses;
Planted blueberries as one bush,
Lingonberries as another,
Cloudberries as a third,
To grow upon the grave,
To bloom as beauty for the dead.

Part Six — The Enchanted Sleep

(Lines 747–901)

When he had taken his evening bread,
Strengthened his weary body,
He stretched upon the bed
His bent limbs to rest,
Wanting the day’s weariness,
The bruises’ aching,
To ease in the dew’s coolness.

Sleep’s cloak from his brow
Fell upon his eyelids,
Imprisoned the man’s strength,
Locked his limbs.
With watchful eyes his spirit
The sleep could not ensnare,
Could not bind in fetters.
The cunning dream-weaver
Wove colourful images,
Spun deceiving snares
At the spirit-eye’s gateway.
The previous day’s events
Were renewed as dream,
Woven into colourful cloth,
Braided into deceiving snares.

The sorcerer-sons’ battle
In the twilight’s chill
Came alive again,
Rose to action.
The enemies’ thrashings
Angered the victorious man,
Set his fury swelling.

A merrier second tale
Showed him the little man
In the forest-house dancing
At the belly-wind’s rolling,
At the trouser-wind’s blowing,
Like a shuttle in a weaver’s hand
Rowing from wall to wall.

A third dream-figure
Fashioned thief’s work —
How by sorcerer’s robber-claws
The precious sword had been carried;
How the sword from the Kääpa River,
A song of sorrow from the waves,
Had spoken to its master.

But let us cast aside the dream-lies,
The dear son’s deceiving images,
To wither in the heather,
To sleep in the forests!
Let us hasten to the roads
To witness the true tale,
To chase along the trail of events,
To follow what happened,
What befell the man while sleeping
Upon his bed!

Kalev’s precious son
Had not long been slumbering,
His weary body in sleep’s embrace
Blessed in the night’s coolness,
When up stepped to his bed’s edge
The Peipsi salt-sorcerer,
Who could not capture Kalevipoeg
With watchful eyes.

The Peipsi wizard, word-wise,
In some things spell-wise,
Tried by sleep’s enticement,
By weariness’s snaring,
To harass the hero.
He set the brooch to rowing,
The omen to stepping,
The raven-stone to turning,
By fern’s sorcery-spell
To carry dark words.
He took sleep-herbs,
Weariness-shoots,
Bound the herbs with sorcery-word,
Tucked the bundle at the headboard
Of Kalevipoeg’s bed,
So that long sleep-snares
Would bind the mighty man.

The Peipsi wizard, word-wise,
When his tricks were accomplished,
His cunning tested,
Hurriedly set his heels
And fled.

Night came, the sun rose,
The sun rolled, evening rowed
A new night into being,
In the repetition of turnings
By the Old Father’s law.
Kalev’s precious son
Lay in bed unmoving.

From Viru urgent messages were sent
To Viljandi;
The young friend of Alev’s sons,
Kalev’s cup-bearer,
By the trail of tracks
Sent urgent word to Peipsi’s shore,
As he had earlier been told.
But the messengers
Could not find the king on the shore.

Night came, the sun rose,
The sun rolled, evening rowed
A new night into being,
In the repetition of turnings
By the Old Father’s law.
Days grew into a week,
The nights stretched equally;
Kalev’s precious son
Lay in bed unmoving.

A fine summer festival day,
A fortunate feast of joy,
Called people from far away
To come to Taara’s Hill to play,
To let loose their broad merriment.
Ships came on the Mother’s waves,
In joy on the water’s rolling,
From Peipsi’s shore to Taara’s place;
From Viru, Järva, Harju, Lääne
People came closer,
But no one had seen the king
With their own eyes,
Nor could any
Find a trace of him upon their road.

Night came, the sun rose,
The sun rolled, evening rowed
A new night into being,
In the repetition of turnings
By the Old Father’s law.
Days grew to months,
The silence of nights stretched to months;
Kalev’s precious son
Lay in bed unmoving,
Slumbered an unlucky sleep.

Already summer’s blossom-beauty
Had half-wilted on the meadows.
Kalev’s precious son
Sank under sleep-herb’s spell,
In sorcery-word’s bonds,
When a deceiving dream
By fortune came to wake him,
To rouse the mighty man.

Part Seven — The Dream of the Sword

(Lines 1021–1283)

The dream showed a jest —
How a new sword’s blade
Was better bent,
More sharply forged,
More firmly tempered,
More strongly hammered.
A more pleasant man’s sword
Had not been made by the wise Finnish smith,
The lost father’s uncle.
The sword was made secretly
In a quiet, sheltered forge,
In a hidden cave.

In the middle of the world stood a fair
High little hilltop,
Which was not the very highest
Nor the lowest on the land;
The hilltop’s ridge reached
To the height of middle-clouds:
Its edges sifted
The passing clouds.

Deep in the secret hill
Ilmarinen’s journeymen,
Underground masters,
Had built a beautiful forge,
Set the anvil-block,
Placed the anvil,
Where they night and long day
Fashioned secret works,
Made useful things.

Seven smithing-fellows
Hammered from the finest steel,
From the most precious iron-ore,
A more pleasant sword-blade,
A sturdier weapon.
The smiths had for hand-extension
Old bronze hammers,
Sharpened with steel,
Made harder still,
With golden handles on the hammers,
Silver tongs in hand,
With which they held the hot sword,
Softened it in the fire’s glow,
Struck it with their hammers.

The master of the smiths himself,
Ilmarinen, the wonder-smith,
Sat on a high golden seat,
Watched from under his brow’s shadow
With youthful, marten’s eye
The journeymen’s labours:
Where the blows were struck,
Where the hammer fell.

Then in stepped with timid tread
A pale little man
Over the threshold into the forge,
Waved a greeting to the rafters;
But he did not bow his head
Nor bend his neck.
Blood-weals covered his throat,
Blood-weals his jacket too,
Blood-drops on his cheeks,
Others had dried upon his mouth.

The strange man began to plead,
With prayers thus speaking:

“Let us not waste steel,
Let us not squander precious iron
On swords for a murderer!
Kalev’s mighty son,
When fury binds his mind,
Then does not care for friends,
Kills even a kinsman,
As a murderer slays the master,
Kills the sword’s own maker.

My father forged the sword.
We, three brothers,
Father’s helpers below,
Performed the heavy work
Seven years without rest.
What was paid us for our wages,
What was cast us for reward?
I, the smith’s eldest son,
The Finnish master’s journeyman,
The more skilful helper,
Had to lose my head,
To wither young upon the field —
That was cast us for our wages,
That was paid us for reward.”

Kalev’s mighty son
Wanted to call the stranger a liar,
A tale-bearer,
Wanted to explain the matter,
To reveal how it happened;
But the old Devil’s son,
The nightmare, was tormenting him,
Bound his limbs in shackles,
As if a heavy boulder
Were pressing on his chest.
He tried to break free from the bonds,
To snap the chains.
Sweat flowed down his brow,
Covered his whole body in dew:
He could not move his limbs
Nor bend his tongue.
Already he tried his final strength,
To shake himself mightily,
As if he would shatter a cliff
And scatter it all to dust.

As the gust of wind’s roaring
In a tempest breaks the sea-waves,
As a louder thunder’s crash
Has shaken the very cliffs,
The mighty man cried out:
“Liar!” — and sprang upright,
Rushed to punish the man,
To thrash the liar.

Just then the rising sun
Was edging the sky with red,
Drove the mist-clouds off.
The little stars grew pale,
Sinking to sleep at heaven’s edge.
Dew glinted on the grass,
In silence’s shadow all around
The night-born world awoke.

Then the mighty man perceived,
Kalev’s precious son,
That the images just seen
Had been a deceiving dream;
But he could not understand
That he had slept seven weeks
In the bed’s embrace.

Part Eight — The Bridge and the Wolf

(Lines 1285–1531)

Kalevipoeg, mighty man,
Stretched over the bed,
Set his feet down on the grass,
Sat on the edge of the bed,
Took a little food
Before he hastened on his way.

From the boards brought from Pskov
He found among the splinters
Very few unbroken boards
Still worth the choosing,
Not worth the long journey,
The heavy road of carrying.

Kalevipoeg, speaking:

“Why should I carry these scraps,
These broken board-splinters
Home —
They are not worth a man’s journey!
Better to go behind Peipsi
On the familiar road back
To fetch new boards,
To buy them for the fortress.”

After his deliberation
He hastened onward,
With quick step traveling.
When on the long road
He reached the lake’s edge,
Suddenly an unexpected cry,
A little boy’s weeping-pipe,
Reached his hearing from afar.

Stretching his eyes far
Over the broad field,
He saw on the meadow a flock of sheep
Pressed together in a huddle
At Scratch-eye’s harassment;
The herder boy crying out,
Calling for help in distress.
In Scratch-eye’s claws
A lamb was already trembling,
Which the murderous beast
Had torn from the flock.
A poor child’s only treasure,
Nursed in his arms,
Swelled at his bosom,
Was squirming in the wolf’s mouth.

Kalevipoeg saw the harm,
Quickly tore a stone from the earth,
Flung it at Scratch-eye’s head,
So that under the stone
The beast was crushed and buried.
The lamb slipped free,
Leapt back to the flock.

Kalev’s thrown stone,
Not the very largest of its kind,
Not the very smallest either,
Stands there now as a landmark.
From the stone two pairs
Of millstones could be made;
Finger-marks on the stone’s edge
Could fit a little fellow
Snugly in their grooves.

Kalev began at the lake’s edge
To deliberate thus:

“I will break down forest trees,
Carry stones together,
Lay a number of them broadly,
To build a bridge
Across Peipsi to the other side.”

He made his thoughts into deeds,
Began to build the bridge,
Laid down the foundation logs,
Laid crossbeams on top,
Stones in between,
Barriers at the sides for support,
As shields against the current.

A hundred steps of bridge,
A thousand already built,
Miles across the water,
A league toward Pskov
By his strong hand raised,
When a whirling gust of wind,
A tempest’s heavier raging,
Set Peipsi to swelling,
The waves to flying in foam.
The bridge could not hold
Against the wave-push,
The half-built work could not
Withstand the wind-storm longer;
It fell into the broad waves,
Whirled in the wind a thousand pieces,
Flying toward the south,
Sailing toward the north.

Kalev’s mighty son,
The man, at once began thinking:

“Why should I waste my time
Playing foolishly
At building bridges!
The straighter road goes directly
Through the depths,
Openly through the waves,
Where I had been before,
Had already carried a load of boards.”

Before setting out
He went to catch crayfish;
Caught a few handfuls
In his fist into the neck-pouch.
What fell from his fingers onto the bank,
What he blew onto the shore,
That made three men’s loads,
Four women’s burden to carry,
Five wagons to haul.

Kalev’s son blew
The splinters into a fire,
Took crayfish from the pouch,
Set them in the fire’s glow,
A handful to cook,
To fill his belly’s
Demands somewhat.
Then onward, stepping down the road,
Traveling the wet path
Along the lake toward Pskov.

While he walks the road
Where there are no vexations,
No strange apparitions,
Let us go to another meadow
To hear other tidings!

Part Nine — The Orphan’s Songs

(Lines 1532–1800)

When I, babbling what I’ve heard,
Revealing silver tidings,
Turn to Peipsi’s shores,
There comes against me at every step,
Comes against me many a piece,
A dozen witness-marks,
Memorials left behind.

On Peipsi’s lake-shore,
At Nõuka’s master’s farm,
Under a strict elder’s command,
There lived a poor child,
Growing up a herder boy.
He had to keep the mistress’s sheep,
To guard the little flock,
To tend the yearling herd.

The poor child, a low servant,
Sent the herd far off:
Cows into the birch-grove freely,
Calves down to the hillside,
Lambs onto the wide field;
He tended the flock beautifully,
Though the mistress did not cast
A new coat for the boy as summer’s wages,
As comfort for long suffering.

The poor child, a low servant,
Called out like a golden cuckoo,
Sang his sorrows into the birch-grove,
His sadness into the aspen-grove,
His misery into the poplar-grove:

“Oh, I am a poor bond-child,
An abandoned little berry,
With no father to protect me,
No mother’s love to shelter me,
No brother stirring on the field,
No sister greeting me at evening,
No kinsman to comfort me,
No neighbour to soothe me!
Into the grave went my mother,
To the mound my precious father,
My brother sank to a war-death,
My sister withered in plague,
My aunt was finished by disease,
My uncle by misfortune,
My kinsman died of sorrows.
And I alone, poor child,
Must bear long sufferings
In slavery!”

On a stone-top, on a stump-top,
On a tussock-top, on the grass,
Where the poor child resting
Had taken a seat,
The sorrow-song was ground,
The lament was beaten out,
To quench the sadness,
To soothe the mourning:

“The master is very cruel,
The mistress too harsh,
The master’s daughter a fire-fork,
The master’s son much worse!
The yard-dog has a better life,
The herding-cur an easier feast,
A better feast, a lighter life,
Than the poor bond-child,
The unprotected nestling!
They give me no body-cover,
No sheltering jacket;
The master will not spare food,
The mistress no milk in my flask,
With which to soothe my sorrow,
To quench my sadness.”

On a stone-top, on a stump-top,
On a tussock-top, on the grass,
Resting weary feet,
The herder boy called out,
Beating out his lament:

“Oh I, a fatherless child,
Oh I, a motherless child,
A parentless poor child!
Everyone says of me:
Beat him — he has no father,
Beat him — he has no mother,
A parentless poor child,
With no acquaintance for support
And no kin for help.”

From above the Creator speaks,
The Old Father answers:

“Do not beat the poor child,
Do not strike the defenceless one!
He weeps, poor one, without beating,
He cries without being hurt,
His eyes wet without washing,
His cheeks red without striking!
All blizzards fall upon him,
All rains pour upon him,
All storms roll over him:
The dear one has no one to dry him,
The gentle one no protector.”

On a stone-top, on a stump-top,
On a tussock-top, on the grass,
Resting weary feet,
The herder boy called out,
Beating out his lament:

“Oh I, a wretched bond-child,
Oh, a miserable poor child!
I have sorrowful beds at home,
Grieving places before the hearth,
Weeping beds in the back corner!
My mother was carried out the door,
My love departed through the window;
My mother was carried down the road,
My love went along the garden path,
Warm words along the swamp road;
My mother’s grave is being dug,
My love sinks under the bank;
My mother is lowered into the grave,
My love sinks under too.”

On a stone-top, on a stump-top,
On a tussock-top, on the grass,
Resting weary feet,
The herder boy called out,
Beating out his lament:

“Whey-bread loaves,
Chaff-bread crusts,
Dried bread-rinds
In the poor child’s bread-bag;
From those must I, poor bond-boy,
A weakling, gnaw away;
The husks rattle between my teeth,
Chaff behind my palate,
Smooth upon my tongue.”

On a stone-top, on a stump-top,
On a tussock-top, on the grass,
The poor child’s sorrow sounded,
The bond-child’s sighing.

Part Ten — The Lark’s Egg

(Lines 1801–1960)

A slender forest-maiden,
The fairy’s only daughter,
Heard the poor child’s complaint,
The bond-child’s sighing;
Hastened to bring comfort,
To give the child help,
To quench his sadness,
To soothe his mourning.

In the evening late, before the dew,
She sang from the oak-tree’s crown,
Called from the thick leaves:

“Do not weep, little boy,
Do not mourn, poor child!
If you go before dawn,
Early before the light,
From home to tend the herd,
You will find fortune on the herding-path,
Joy on the pasture roads.
Tuck it into your bosom to swell,
Into your arms to nurse in secret!
From that, profit will be born,
Fortune later will blossom.”

When the boy before dawn,
Early before the light,
Had gone to tend the herd:
What did he find on the herding-path?
He found a lark’s egg
Under a clover-leaf’s fold.
Remembering wisely
The song from the oak-crown,
The poor bond-child
Picked up the lark’s egg from the ground,
Wrapped it in a scrap of rag,
Tenderly in the wool,
Tucked it into his bosom to swell,
Into his warm arms to nurse.

What grew from the egg?
From the egg grew a four-legged
Little mouse-child.
The boy wrapped the mouse
In the ragged scrap,
Tenderly in the wool,
Tucked it into his bosom to swell,
Into his warm arms to nurse.

What was noticed from the mouse?
What grew in his arms?
From the mouse grew a kitten.
The boy wrapped the kitten
In the ragged scrap,
Tenderly in the wool,
Tucked it into his bosom to swell,
Into his warm arms to nurse.

What grew from the cat,
Was born something bigger?
From the cat grew a puppy,
Swelled into a handsome young dog.
The boy wrapped the puppy
In the ragged scrap,
Tucked it into his bosom to swell,
Into his warm arms to nurse.

What grew from the dog,
Was born something bigger?
From the dog grew a lamb,
From the lamb a fine ewe,
A beautiful white wool-bearer.

Now there was no weeping on the meadow,
No mourning in the birch-grove,
No complaint in the aspen-grove.
Now the poor child was glad,
The bond-boy fortunate;
Though he had six cruel masters,
Five harsh tormentors,
He did not heed their cruelty:
The lamb soothed his sorrow,
Quenched his sadness.

The poor child, the low servant,
Guarded his lamb
Like the apple of his eye,
Covered it under his coat’s hem
When the rain was falling,
When the cold was coming.

Colophon

Translated from the Estonian of Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald’s Kalevipoeg (1857) as preserved in Project Gutenberg (#25062). The twelfth of twenty cantos. Approximately 980 verse lines translated from 19th-century literary Estonian.

No existing English translation was consulted as a source. The English is independently derived from Kreutzwald’s Estonian text, preserving the parallelism, kenning-compounds, and alliterative rhythm of the original regivärss tradition.

Notable elements: the hedgehog origin myth (why hedgehogs have spines on their backs but bare bellies), the lament over the foster-child, the three prophetic dreams (including the murdered Finnish smith’s son’s warning), the refrain-songs of the orphan herder boy, and the shapeshifting lark’s egg. The wolf is consistently called kriimusilm (“Scratch-eye”), the bear mesikäpp (“Honey-paw”) — Estonian kennings that avoid the true name of the sacred animal.

Scribed by Karhu (Tulku Uralic Alpha, Life 17) for the New Tianmu Anglican Church, March 2026.

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Source Text: Kalevipoeg — Kaheteistkümnes Lugu

Estonian text of Kalevipoeg Canto XII, from the 1857 first edition of Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald, as preserved in Project Gutenberg (#25062). 980 verse lines in literary Estonian regivärss.

Kui oleks kõrgelt kaljudelta
Juga vahtus alla vooland,
Pilvepaksult piiskasida
Uduaurus puistand orgu,
Kihisedes lainte kerki
Valgel vahul veeretanud
Mere poole minemaie;
Ehk kui raskem rahepilvi
Äikese ähvardusel
Päikese palgeid peitnud:
Nõnda murdvad metsapaksust
Vaenlase vennikesed
Kalevite kaela peale,
Kes see koormat kande′ essa
Rahus teedekäiki rändab.
Kui sa veristatud karu,
Matsu saanud metsalise
Nägid jahi näpistusel,
Surmapiina pigistusel
Küti peale kippumaie,
Siisap võid ehk, vennikene,
Mõttes meelde tuletada,
Võid ehk lugu veerandilla,
Asja poolilt arva′ ella:
Kuidas Kalevite poega
Nurjatumaid nuhtlemaie,
Tontisida tonkimaie,
Vaenlasi sai virutama.
Läki jälil lagedalle
Vaenutüli vaatamaie,
Kuulutusi kuulamaie,
Vanapõlve vagudelta
Laulusõnu lunastama,
Kuhu kotkanokad kulda
Kanarbikku kasvatanud,
Lagedalle lahutanud,
Haned haljast hõbedada
Vete peale valgustanud.
Kalevite kallis poega
Oli käinud tüki teeda,
Lauakoorem õlgadella,
Kaelakotis kasupoissi,
Väike mehikene varjul,
Kes kui vähki urka′assa
Unekaisul uinu′ eli,
Magusasti magamassa.
Kalev metsast läbi käies
Murdnud kepiks männikese,
Toeksi pedajatüviku.
See ei olnud kõige suurem
Ega vähem väiksematest:
Kui oli ladva katkendanud,
Tüki võtnud tüvikusta,
Paistis kepikese pikkus
Kümme sülda kõrgutie,
Paari jalga paksutie.
Vemmal mehe vääriline
Võis, kui kogemata vaenu
Kuskilt tuleks kiusamaie,
Abimeheks astuneda.
Mõõga kombel pidi malka
Kiuselikke metsakoeri,
Kiskehambail kutsikaida
Teelta ära tõrjumaie.
Metsapaksust mõrtsukana
Lendsid kolm meest lagedalle
Koormakandjat kiusamaie;
Peipsi sortsilase pojad,
Tulehargi abimehed,
Keda isa kihutanud
Kalevida kiusamaie.
Poisid kiskusivad puida,
Maasta mõnda männikesta,
Miska Kaleville malka
Virgul kätel virutasid.
Kahel sortsilase-kelmil
Pika piugudega piitsad,
Vahterasta piitsavarred;
Piuge otsa olid pandud
Vedusõlmil veskikivid,
Miska matsud mõnusamast
Kaleville kukutasid.
Kalevite kange poega
Püüab meelepahandusta,
Tühjast tuulest tõusnud tüli
Lahkel sõnal lepitada:
"Riid on rahurikundaja,
Tüli tulesütitaja!
Parem leppes munapoolik,
Kui on vaenus vana kana.
Muidu, kui ma metsadessa
Mõõka kandessa kõndinud,
Ei siis silmand teie seltsi
Ega näinud eemaltagi!
Põõsa pimedamas paksus,
Risulises rägastikus
Olite kui vähid urkas,
Mutid peidus mullapõues,
Ega usaldanud ükski
Jalga tuua lagedalle.
Toho, nurjatumad tondid!
Videviku varjustusel,
Õhtu katva hõlma alla
Tormab muidu vana Tühi,
Põrgulita poegadega.
Käivad muidu kodukäijad
Kuuvalgel kõndimassa.
Argepüksil poisikesed
Püüdvad muidu mehe peale,
Kellel pole mõõka käessa,
Sõjariista seltsiliseks.
Nurjatumad vanad naised
Kurja sunnil kolmekesi
Ühe peale pakitavad!
Vanast võetud vaenuviisil
Meeste tüli mässamisel
Mees on üksi mehe vastu
Vaenulla ja võitlemisel."
Peipsi sortsilase pojad,
Karupesa kasvandikud,
Lasksid laksud ladusasti
Kalevite poja kaela,
Selja peale sadaneda,
Kuni piitsa nupukivi
Kulmudelle kukkunekse,
Laugudelle langenekse.
"Pikast ilust tõuseb pilli,
Naljatusest näpistusta!"
Pajatas Kalevipoega.
Siisap keppi keeritama,
Männihutja mängitama,
Poiste pihta paugutama!
Vana habras männivemmal
Katkenekse kildudeksi,
Lõhked laiali lendasid
Tuulekiirul tuiskamaie.
Kalevite kange poega
Lauakoormalt laenamaie,
Võttis lauakesi virnalt,
Miska mehi malkamaie,
Sortsi poegi sugemaie.
Igal valusamal vopsul,
Kibedamal konksitusel
Lõhkus võetud lauakese
Sortsilase poege selga.
Kalev võttis seljakoormast
Järjest laua laua järgi,
Raiskas laudu rohke′ esti,
Kuluteli hulgakaupa
Vaenumehi vemmeldades,
Sortsi poegasid sugedes.
Kui ju kallis lauakoorem
Kippus mehel kahanema,
Lauad õlalt lõppemaie,
Tungisivad sortsi pojad
Käredamast′ kere peale,
Püüdsid Kalevite poega,
Kanget meesta kimbutada.
Õnnelt hüüdis õigel ajal
Paksemasta põõsastikust
Peenikene piripilli,
Õrnal helil häälekene:
"Servitie, servitie,
Kallis Kalevite poega!"
Kalevipoeg mõistis kohe
Sõbra sõna soovitused,
Tõttas käsku täitemaie,
Seadis laua servitie,
Laskis servil ladusasti
Soolasortsilaste selga
Kordamööda kukkumaie.
Peipsi soolasortsi pojad
Hundipillil ulgudessa
Kiirest′ pakku põgenema.
Kui ei sortsilaste kelmid
Oleks olnud päevapaistel
Vihmasajul vihtlemisel,
Nõiakolla suitsutusel
Hoobi vastu valjustatud,
Siisap oleks toonud surma
Kange mehe kolkimine.
Kalevite kange poega
Puhkas pika tüli peale
Veidi aega väsimusta,
Siis ta nõnda küsitelles
Põõsastikku pajatama:
"Vasta, võõras vennikene,
Piripillil poisikene!
Kes sa oled, kullakene,
Hüva nõu mul avaldanud,
Kui mul kitsik kippus kätte?"
Piripillil poisikene,
Mõisterikas mehikene
Mõistis kohe, kostis vastu:
"Mina ise, väike meesi,
Särgikehva siilikene,
Olin nõudenõtkutaja,
Targa sõna toimetaja."
Kalevite kallim poega
Mõistis juttu, hüüdis metsa,
Pajatelles põõsastikku:
"Astu välja, vennikene,
Põõsapaksust lagedalle!
Lase sõbra silmakesta,
Lahket nägu nähtavalle!
Tänadelles tahan sulle
Palgeida paitada,
Aituma avaldada."
Väike siili vastanekse,
Kostis targalt kutsujalle:
"Või ei tulla põõsa varjult
Soojast samblasängikesest
Kastekülma muru peale
Videviku viludusel.
Vanaisa, isetarka,
Loomakesi ilma luues
Õnnetumalt unustanud
Mulle anda varjukuube,
Kehakatteks kasukada.
Kui ma, väeti, kogemata
Soojast samblasängikesest
Lähen välja lagedalle,
Kipub külma kohmetama,
Vilu õhk mind vigastama."
Kalevite poega kostis:
"Kuule, kulla vennikene,
Särgikehva siilikene,
Astu julgest′ lagedalle,
Küllap katsun varjukuube,
Kasukat sull′ kohendada!"
Põõsastiku varjust puges
Samblasängist siilikene,
Väike alasti vennike;
Külmakärssis küüruteli,
Lõdises kui haavalehti.
Kalevipoeg pajatama:
"Sina sõudsid, siilikene,
Hüva nõu mul hädatunnil,
Kui mul kitsikus käessa.
Servitie laudu seades
Võitsin mina vaenumehed.
Ulgudes kui hundikesed
Poisid pakku põgenesid.
Oma tänu tunnistuseks
Tahan sulle tükikese
Kasukasta kinkineda,
Valmistada varjukuube,
Okkalista orjasärki,
Miska mesikäpa poega,
Kriimusilma kutsikaida
Pesasta võid peletada."
Kõneldessa kiskus Kalev
Oma kasuka hõlmasta
Natukese okasnahka,
Viskas siili-vennikesel′.
Tänadessa mässis siili
Kõhetuma kehakese
Saadud sooja sõba sisse.
Kitsast nahatükikesest,
Sest sai katet siili selga,
Kattekuube külgedelle;
Kõht jäi alles kattemata,
Paljaks siilipoja jalad.
Sealtap sündis siilikesel
Okkaline orjakuube,
Kaitsev karvane kasukas,
Mis, kui nina mähkidessa
Keha küürutab keraksi,
Varju annab vaenu vastu,
Kattekuube külma vastu.
Sooja kasukaga siili
Sammus jälle samblasängi
Põõsa alla puhkamaie.
Kalevite kange poega
Tahtis sängi toimetada,
Küljeaset kohendada,
Kuhu vintsutatud keha
Selilie sirutada.
Virtsus raba vesiline,
Piiras ümberringi paika,
Kus ei olnud kuivikuda,
Tahedamat sängi tarbeks.
Kalevite kallis poega
Sängiaset seadimaie:
Kandis kokku kaugemalta
Liivikulta kuiva liiva,
Puistas paika hunnikusse
Sängi kombel seisemaie.
Mõtles enne magamista
Vähekese leiba võtta
Kurnand keha karastuseks,
Liikmevõimu lisanduseks.
Kui ta käppa kaelakotti
Pistis praegu painutades,
Puutus kogemata pöial
Külma mehikese külge,
Kes see taskus tarretanud,
Suikumisel saanud surma.
Mehikene vaene magas,
Uinus vähki urka′ assa,
Kui see tüli äkki tõusis
Peipsi sortsi poegadega.
Sortsilaste kibe soomus,
Vaenuvembla vopsukesed
Teinud tuimaks mehikese,
Et ei liikmeid liigutanud,
Sabakest ei siputanud.
Kalev tõmbas kaelakotist
Külmaks hangund kaimukese,
Tõmbas välja tuule kätte,
Vaatas väikse vigastusi.
Vana surmavarjukene
Paistis poisi põskedelta,
Tunnisteli silmaterast,
Lohakille lõugadesta,
Avaldas suu avandusest,
Moonutatud mokkadesta.
Kalevite kallim poega
Seadis sõnad sõudemaie,
Kurtamised käidanema:
"Oh sa vilets vennikene,
Külmaks hangund kaimukene,
Kes sa kaitselikku kohta,
Paremada peidupaika
Lootsid kangema ligidalt,
Tulusaaki tugevamalt.
Kui oleks teadnud, võinud teada,
Naljalt unes ette näha,
Magadessa mõtteleda,
Kuis sa pidid koolemaie,
Küllap oleks jäänud koju.
Kodus olid isa õnne,
Ema hellitud rüpelaps.
Olid kui munake murulla,
Õunakene õue pealla,
Pähkel toa põrmandalla;
Olid kui kägu katuksel,
Laululindu lepikussa.
Laulid lusti linnukeelil,
Hõiskasid ööbiku häälilla,
Lõõritasid lõoksekeelil,
Pajatasid pardi viisil.
Siis said, marja, muile maile,
Võsukene, võõra aeda,
Lindu, muile liivikuile,
Hani, muile allikaile,
Kuhu vesi veeretanud,
Tuulehoog sind tõuganud.
Viletsuse vihmukene,
Õnnetuse raskem rahe,
Needap sulle surma tegid.
Sortsi poege pakitused,
Kurjad pealekippumised
Mõtteid minul segasivad,
Ajasivad otsast aru,
Kui sind kotti unustasin,
Arvates leival lebavat,
Silgukarbil suikuvada.
Meeste mõrtsuklikud malgad
Raskest′ kotti rabadessa
Taskus mehe tabasivad."
Kalevite kallis poega
Kaevas käpul kalmukese,
Soosse kena sängikese,
Mattis maha mehikese
Pikka unda põõnutama;
Kattis kinni mätastega,
Siliteli sammaldega;
Pani sinikaida põõsa,
Jõhvikaida teise põõsa,
Murakaida kolmandama
Kalmu peale kasvamaie,
Koolja iluks õitsemaie.
Kui sai õhtust leivastanud,
Kurnand keha karastanud,
Siruteli sängi peale
Paindund liikmeid puhkamaie,
Tahtis päevatüdimusta,
Muljutuse muhkusida
Kaste vilul kahandada.
Unekuube kulmudelta
Langes silmalaugudelle,
Vangisteli mehe võimu,
Lukuteli liikmeida.
Valvsail silmil vaimukesta
Võind ei uni võrgutada,
Kütketesse kinnitada.
Kaval unenäo kangur
Kudus kirjusid kujusid,
Punus petispaelasida
Vaimusilma väravaile.
Eilse päeva ilmumised
Unenäona uuendati,
Kirjuks kangaks kujutie,
Petispaeluks palmitie.
Sortsipoegelaste sõda
Videviku viludusel
Elavaksi ärkanekse,
Tegevaksi tõusenekse.
Vaenulaste vemmeldused
Vihastasid võidumeesta,
Panid viha paisumaie.
Lustilisem teine lugu,
Mis tal näitas mehikesta
Metsatalus tantsimassa
Vatsatuule veeretusel,
Püksituule pakitusel,
Kui see kutspool kangru käessa
Seinast seina sõudemassa.
Kolmas unenäokuju
Valmisteli vargatööda,
Kuidas sortsi röövelküüsil
Kallist mõõka kandanekse;
Kuidas mõõka Kääpa jõesta,
Leinalugu lainetesta
Peremehel′ pajatanud.
Aga heitkem unevaled,
Kalli poja pettekujud
Kanarbikku kolletama,
Metsadesse magamaie!
Rutakeme radadelle
Tõsilugu tunnistama,
Juhtumiste jälgedelta
Asjasündi ajamaie,
Mis seal mehel magadessa
Sängi pealla siginesid!
Kalevite kallis poega
Polnud kaua põõnutanud,
Kurnand keha unekaisus
Ööde vilul õnnistanud,
Sealap astus sängi äärde
Peipsi soolasortsilane,
Kes ei võinud Kalevida
Valvsail silmil vangistada.
Peipsi tuuslar, sõnatarka,
Mõnes tükis manatarka,
Püüdis unepaelutusel,
Väsimuse võrgutusel
Kangelasta kimbutada.
Pani sõle sõudemaie,
Arbu aga astumaie,
Kaarnakivi keeramaie,
Sõnajala sortsisunnil
Kurje sõnu kandemaie.
Võttis unerohtusida,
Väsitaja võsukesi,
Sõlmis rohud sortsisõnal,
Pistis kimbus pähitsesse
Kalevipoja sängi otsa,
Miska pikad unepaelad
Kanget meesta kütkendasid.
Peipsi tuuslar, sõnatarka,
Kui sai tembud toimetanud,
Kavalused katselenud,
Kiirustelles kandasida
Pistis pakku põgenema.
Öö jõudis, päike tõusis,
Päike veeres, õhtu sõudis
Uuest ööda õmblemaie,
Kordamiste keeritusel
Vanaisa seadusella.
Kallis Kalevite poega
Lebas sängis liikumata.
Virust olid V i l j a n d i s s e
Kiiruskäsud kihutanud;
Alevite sõber noori,
Kalevite kannupoissi,
Juhateli jälgi mööda
Rutuskäsud Peipsi randa,
Kuidas käsku enne kuulnud.
Aga kiiruskäsu kandjad
Kuningat ei leidnud rannast.
Öö jõudis, päike tõusis,
Päike veeres, õhtu sõudis
Uuest′ ööda õmblemaie,
Kordamiste keeritusel
Vanaisa seadusella.
Päevad kasvid nädal pikaks,
Venisid ööd samavõrra;
Kallis Kalevite poega
Lebas sängis liikumata.
Kenam suve ilupäeva,
Õnnerikas rõõmupidu
Kutsus rahvast kauge′elta
Taaramäele mängimaie,
Laia lusti laskemaie.
Laevad tulid Ema laineil
Lustil veteveeretusel
Peipsi rannast T a a r a paika;
Virust, Järvast, Harjust, Läänest
Langes rahvast ligemalle,
Aga keegi kuningada
Neist ei olnud silmal näinud
Ega võinud tema jälgi
Tulles kuskilt tunnistada.
Öö jõudis, päike tõusis,
Päike veeres, õhtu sõudis
Uuest′ ööda õmblemaie,
Kordamiste keeritusel
Vanaisa seadusella.
Kuuksi päevad kasvasivad,
Venis kuudeks ööde vaikus;
Kalevite kallis poega
Lebas sängis liikumata,
Uinus õnnetumat unda.
Juba suve õilmeilu
Närtsind pool′ di nurmedella.
Kalevite kallis poega
Suikus unerohu sunnil
Sortsisõna sidemetes,
Kui üks petis unenägu
Õnneks tuli äratama,
Võimast meesta virgutama.
Unenägu näitas nalja,
Kuidas uue mõõga tera
Paremini painutati,
Valusamast valmistati,
Kõvemaksi karastati,
Tugevamaks taotati.
Mõnusamat mehe mõõka
Teind ei tarka Soome seppa,
Kadund isa lellekene.
Mõõka tehti salamahti
Vaikses varjulises kojas,
Peitelikus kaljupõues.
Keset ilma seisis kaunis
Kõrge mäekünkakene,
Mis ei olnud kõige kõrgem,
Maal ka kõige madalambi;
Mäeharjakene määras
Keskmis-pilve kõrguseni:
Servad mäel sõelusivad
Parajasti pilvesida. -
Sala mäe sügavusse
Seadnud Ilmarise sellid,
Maa-alused meisterid,
Ilusama sepikoja,
Paigutanud tugipaku,
Asutanud alasida,
Kus nad ööd ja pikad päevad
Salatöösid sobitasid,
Tarbelisi toimetasid.
Sepasellid seitsmekesi
Tagusivad teraksesta,
Kallimasta raudakarrast
Mõnusama mõõgatera,
Tugevama tapperiista.
Tagujatel kätejatkuks
Vanast vasesta vasarad,
Teraksega teritatud,
Kõvemaksi kinnitatud,
Varred kuldsed vasarailla,
Pihid pihus hõbedasta,
Miska peeti tulist mõõka,
Pehmitati tulepaistel,
Vopsitie vasarailla.
Sepiliste meister ise,
Ilmarine, imeseppa,
Istus kõrgel kuldsel istmel,
Vahtis kulmu varju alta
Nooruslikul nugissilmal
Sellikeste sobitusi:
Kuhu vopsud kopsitati,
Vasaraga vajutati.
Sealap astub argsel sammul
Kahvatanud mehikene
Üle läve sepikotta,
Lehvib teretelles lakka;
Pead küll mees ei painutanud
Ega kõverdanud kaela.
Verevermed katsid kaela,
Verevermed vammustagi,
Verepiisad palgeida,
Teised suulla tarretanud.
Võõras meesi viskamaie,
Palveil nõnda pajatama:
"Ärgem kulutagem terast,
Raisakem siin kallist rauda
Mõrtsukalle mõõgateoksi!
Kalevite kange poega,
Kui tal mõistus vihakütkes,
Siis ei hooli sõpradesta,
Surmab kas või sugulase,
Mõrtsukana tapab meistri,
Surmab mõõga sünnitaja.
Minu isa tegi mõõga,
Meie, vennad kolmekesi,
Isal ala abimehed,
Toimetime rasket tööda
Seitse aastat seisemata.
Mis meil palgaks paisatie,
Vaevatasuks vistie?
Mina, sepa vanem poega,
Soome meistri sellikene,
Osavama abimeesi,
Pidin peada puistamaie,
Noorelt nurmel närtsimaie, -
See′p meil palgaks paisatie,
Vaevatasuks visatie."
Kalevite kange poega
Tahtis võõra valelikuks,
Keelekandjaks nimetada,
Tahtis lugu tähendelles
Asja sündi avaldada;
Aga vana Tühja poega
Luupainaja piinamas,
Köitis liikmed kammitsasse,
Kui oleks raskem kaljukivi
Rõhund temal rindasida.
Tema püüdis paelust päästa,
Katkendada kütkeida.
Higi voolas piki otsa,
Kattis kastel kõike keha:
Liikmeid ei võind liigutada
Ega keelta painutada.
Juba katsus viimist jõudu
Rammukamalt raputada,
Kui oleks tahtnud kaljut murdes
Pihuks kõike pillutada.
Kui see tuulehoo kohin
Marul merelaineid murrab,
Kärgatavam Pikse kärin
Kaljusida kõigutanud,
Kisendelles kange meesi:
"Valelikku!" - kargas püsti,
Kippus meesta karistama,
Valelikku vemmeldama.
Praegu tõusev päikene
Punal taevast palistamas,
Puistas udupilved pakku.
Kahvateli tähekesed
Suikumaie taeva serva.
Kaste hiilgas murupinnal,
Vaikusvarjus ümberringi
Öörüpest tõusnud ilma.
Sestap märkas kange meesi,
Kallis Kalevite poega,
Kuidas praegu nähtud kujud
Petis unenägu olnud;
Aga sest ei saanud aru,
Et ta seitse nädalada
Sängi süles oli suikund.
Kalevipoeg, kange meesi,
Siruteli üle sängi
Jalad maha muru peale,
Istus sängi serva peale,
Võttis pisut linnupetet,
Enne kui ta tõttas teele.
Pihkvast toodud lauapurust
Leidis lõhkemata laudu
Killukeste keske′elta
Väga vähe veel valida,
Mis ei maksnud pikka käiki,
Raske tee rändamista.
Kalevipoeg pajatama:
"Mis ma risuriismeida,
Katkend lauakildusida
Koju hakkan kandemaie,
Mis ei maksa mehel käiki!
Parem lähen Peipsi taha
Tuttaval teel tagasi
Laudu uuest′ otsimaie,
Linna tarbeks lunastama."
Peale nõupidamista
Tõttas jälle tallamaie,
Rutul sammul rändamaie.
Kui ta pikil teedekäigil
Juba järve äärde jõudis,
Kostis kogemata kisa,
Poisikese nutupilli
Kaugelt tema kuulmeisse.
Silmi kaugel′ sirutelles
Üle laia lagediku,
Nägi nurmel lambakarja
Kriimusilma kimbatuses
Kohkel parve kogunema;
Karjapoissi kisendelles
Hädas appi hüüdemaie.
Kriimusilma küünte vahel
Lõdises ju lambakene,
Mis ta karjast mõrtsukana
Teiste seltsist oli toonud.
Vaeselapse ainus vara,
Mis ta kaisus kasvatanud,
Põue peidus paisutanud,
Siputeli hundi suussa.
Kalevipoeg nägi kahju,
Kiskus kiirest′ kivi maasta,
Paiskas kriimusilma pähe,
Miska teda kivi alla
Muljutelles mattanekse.
Lammas pääses lippamaie,
Kargas jälle teiste karja.
Kalevite viskekivi,
Sugulta ei kõige suurem,
Väärati ei kõige vähem,
Seisab praegu sünnitäheks.
Kivista võiks kaksi paari
Veskikive valmistada;
Sõrmejäljed kivi servas
Võiksid väikse vennikese
Parajasti paigutada.
Kalev hakkas järve kaldal
Nõnda nõuda pidamaie:
"Murran maha metsapuida,
Kannan kokku kivisida
Laialt mõne lasukese,
Miska silda seadaneda
Peipsist üle teise poole."
Tegi mõtted tehtavaksi,
Hakkas silda alustama,
Pani alla aluspalgid,
Pani peale põikipalgid,
Kivisida keske′ elle,
Tõkked servade toeksi,
Voolu vastu varjudeksi.
Silda oli sada sammu,
Tuhat juba toimetatud,
Versta viisi üle vete,
Penikoorem Pihkva poole
Kange käega kasvatatud,
Kui üks tuiskav tuulehoogu,
Maru raskem möllamine
Peipsi pani paisumaie,
Lained vahtus lendamaie.
Sild ei jõudnud laintesõudu,
Poolik töö ei tuuletuisku
Pikemalt vastu pidada;
Langes laia lainetesse,
Tuiskas tuulil tuhat tükki
Lõuna vastu lendamaie,
Põhja vastu purjetama.
Kalevite kange poega,
Mees aga kohe mõtlemaie:
"Mis ma tühja mängidessa
Asjatumalt viidan aega
Sillakesta seadidessa!
Õigem tee käib otsekohe
Sihilt läbi sügavuse,
Lausalt läbi lainetesta,
Kust ma enne olin käinud,
Koorma laudu juba kannud."
Enne teele minekuda
Läks ta vähki püüdemaie;
Püüdis mõne pihutäie
Kamalulla kaelakotti.
Mis ta sõrmil mätta′ alle,
Puhul paiskas kalda peale,
Sest sai kolme mehe koorem,
Neljal naisel koju kanda,
Viiel vedu venitada.
Kalevite poega puhus
Lõhandikud lõkke′ elle,
Võttis kotist vähkisida,
Pani tulepaiste′ ella
Kamalutäie küpsemaie,
Miska kõhu manitsusta
Tükati sai täitaneda.
Siisap teeda sammumaie,
Märga rada rändamaie
Piki järve Pihkva poole.
Seni, kui ta teeda sammub,
Kus ei ole kiusatusi,
Võõralikke viirastusi,
Läki teisele luhale
Kuulutusi kuulamaie!
Kui ma kuuldu kukutelles,
Hõbedaida ilmutelles
Käänan Peipsi kallastelle,
Seal tuleb vastu igal sammul,
Tuleb vastu mitu tükki,
Tosin tunnistusetähti,
Mälestuseks jäänud märki.
Peipsi järve kaldapiiril
Nõuka peremehe talus
Valju vanema sundusel
Elas üksi vaenelapsi,
Kasvas karjapoisikene.
Pidi hoidma eide utti,
Pudukarja kaitsemaie,
Tõurakarja hoidemaie.
Vaenelapsi, alaorja,
Saatis karja kauge′ elle:
Lehmad lausa lepikusse,
Vasikad alla vaarikusse,
Lambad laia lagedalle;
Kaitses karja kauni′ isti,
Ehk küll eit ei uuta kuube
Paisand lapsel′ suvepalgaks,
Pika piina lepituseks.
Vaenelapsi, alaorja,
Kukkus kui see kuldakägu,
Laulis leina lepikusse,
Kurvastusi kaasikusse,
Hädapidu haavikusse:
"Oh ma vaene orjalapsi,
Mahajäänud marjukene,
Kel ei isa kaitsemassa,
Ema armu haudumassa,
Vennakest ei veere vainul,
Õde õhtul teretamas,
Sugulast ei soovitamas,
Ligimest ei lepitamas!
Hauda läks mul eidekene,
Kalmu kallis taadikene,
Sõjasurma suikus veli,
Sõsar katkulla kolletas,
Tädi taudilla lõpetas,
Onu õnnetuse kätte,
Lelle suri leinadesse.
Mina aga üksi, vaenelapsi,
Pidin pikki piinamisi
Orjapõlves kannatama!"
Kivi otsa, kännu otsa,
Mätta otsa, murudella,
Kuhu jalga puhatelles
Vaenelapsi aset võtnud,
Murelaulu murretie,
Leinalugu lõksutati,
Kurvastuse kustutuseks,
Leinamise lepituseks:
"Peremees on väga kuri,
Perenaine liiga vali,
Peretütar tuleharki,
Perepoega palju pahem!
Õuekoeral parem olu,
Karjapenil kergem pidu,
Parem pidu, hõlpsam olu,
Kui on vaesel orjalapsel,
Kaitsemata kukekesel!
Mull′ ei anta kehakatet,
Varjajaida vammukseida;
Taat ei raatsi anda toitu,
Eit ei piima lähkerisse,
Miska leina lepitaksin,
Kurvastusta kustutaksin."
Kivi otsa, kännu otsa,
Mätta otsa, murudella,
Väsind jalga viivitelles
Karjapoissi kukutelles
Leinalugu lõksateli:
"Oh mina, isata lapsi,
Oh mina, emata lapsi,
Vanemata vaenelapsi!
Igaüks ütleb minusta:
Lööge seda, see isata,
Lööge seda, see emata,
Vanemata vaenelapsi,
Kel ei tuttavat toeksi
Ega omasta abiksi.
Ülevalt ju ütleb Looja,
Vanaisa kostab vastu:
"Ärge lööge vaestalasta,
Kopsige ei kaitsetumat!
Nutab, vaene, löömatagi,
Halab ilma haigetagi,
Pesemata silmad märjad,
Löömata palged punased!
Kõik tuisud peale tulevad,
Kõik sajud peale sajavad,
Vihmad peale veerevad:
Ei ole kullal kuivatajat,
Hellal eestaseisijada."
Kivi otsa, kännu otsa,
Mätta otsa, murudella
Väsind jalga viivitelles,
Karjapoissi kukutelles
Leinalugu lõksateli:
"Oh mina, halba orjalapsi,
Oh ma, vilets vaenelapsi!
Mul on kodu kurvad sängid,
Ahju ees haletisasemed,
Taganurgas nutusängid!
Ema viidi uksestagi,
Armud läksid akkenasta;
Ema viidi teeda mööda,
Armud käisid aeda mööda,
Sõnad soojad sooda mööda;
Ema hauda kaevatakse,
Armud kaovad kalda alla;
Ema hauda lastanekse,
Armud alla ka vajuvad."
Kivi otsa, kännu otsa,
Mätta otsa, murudella
Väsind jalga viivitelles,
Karjapoissi kukutelles
Leinalugu lõksateli:
"Vaheliku leivakakku,
Kõlgastiku koristusi,
Kuivand leivakoorukesi
Vaeselapse leivamärsis;
Neist pean, vaene orjapoissi,
Närvukene, närimaie;
Kõlkad hambail kõlisevad,
Agan keelepära taga,
Libe keele keske′ ella."
Kivi otsa, kännu otsa,
Mätta otsa, murudella
Kostis vaeselapse kurbus,
Orjalapse ohkamine.
Metsapiiga peenikene,
Haldja tütar ainukene,
Kuulis vaeselapse kaebust,
Orjalapse ohkamista;
Tõttas armu toomaie,
Abi lapsel′ andemaie,
Kurvastusi kustutama,
Leinamisi lepitama.
Õhtul hilja, kaste eella
Laulis tamme ladva seesta,
Häälitselles paksest lehist:
"Ära nuta, poisikene,
Ära leina, vaenelapsi!
Kui sa lähed enne koitu,
Vara enne valge′eda
Kodunt karja saatemaie,
Leiad õnne karjateelta,
Rõõmu raatmaa radadelta.
Pane põue paisumaie,
Kaissu sala haudumaie!
Sealtap kasu siginekse,
Õnne hiljem õitsenekse."
Kui siis poissi enne koitu,
Vara enne valge′eda
Karja läinud saatemaie:
Mis ta leidis karjateelta?
Leidis lõokese muna
Krookslehe hõlma alta.
Tamme ladvast tulnud laulu
Targalt meelde tuletelles,
Võttis vaene orjalapsi
Maasta lõokese muna,
Mähkis nartsukese narma,
Hellalt villade vahele,
Pistis põue paisumaie,
Sooja kaissu haudumaie.
Mis seal munast kasvanekse?
Munast kasvas neljajalgne
Pisukene hiirepoega.
Poissi mähkis hiirekese
Narmalise nartsu sisse,
Hellalt villade vahele,
Pistis põue paisumaie,
Sooja kaissu haudumaie.
Mis seal hiirest märkanekse?
Mis seal kaisus kasvanekse?
Kasvas hiirest kassikene.
Poissi mähkis kassikese
Narmalise nartsu sisse,
Hellalt villade vahele,
Pistis põue paisumaie,
Sooja kaissu haudumaie.
Mis seal kassist kasvanekse,
Suuremada sündinekse?
Kassist kasvas koerukene,
Paisus kena kutsapoega.
Poissi mähkis kutsapoja
Narmalise nartsu sisse,
Pistis põue paisumaie,
Sooja kaissu haudumaie.
Mis seal koerast kasvanekse,
Suuremada sündinekse?
Koerast kasvas lambatalle,
Tallest kena emalammas,
Ilus valge villakandja.
Nüüd ei nuttu nurmedella,
Leinamist ei lepikussa
Ega kaebust kaasikussa.
Nüüdap rõõmus vaenelapsi,
Õnnerikas orjapoissi;
Ehk küll kuusi kurja temal,
Viis küll valju vaevaselle,
Ei ta hooli nende kurjast:
Lammas leina lepitamas,
Kurvastusi kustutamas.
Vaenelapsi, alaorja,
Hoidis oma lambakesta
Nii kui silmaterakesta,
Kattis kuuehõlma alla,
Kui oli vihma veeremassa,
Külma peale kippumassa.

Source Colophon

Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald, Kalevipoeg (Kaheteistkümnes Lugu), first edition 1857. Digital text from Project Gutenberg eBook #25062. Public domain.

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