Kalevipoeg — Canto XVII · Tianmu Anglican Church

The Battle and the Cauldron

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 XVII follows directly from the founding of the city and the voyage to the world's end. Seven undisturbed summers have passed. Olevipoeg has built the fortresses; Kalevipoeg has named the city Lindanisa in memory of his mother. But invaders land on the shores of Viru — hundreds, thousands, thick as clouds. Kalevipoeg rides to war on a horse whose silver bridle gleams and golden spurs ring, a hero so mighty that where he moves his horse a city rises, where he turns it a hill swells forth. The maidens of Viru, Järva, Lääne, and Harju sigh for him as he passes. The battle is terrible — heads scattered like birch-leaves, bodies piled into hills, the horse swimming in a stream of blood. But the hero's horse stumbles into a hidden bog, and the fleeing enemy escapes. After the battle, the four brothers march through an uncharted forest and discover an old crone cooking cabbage soup in a cave. She warns them: an uninvited guest will come to steal the broth. Three brothers take turns at the watch, and each time the Härjapõlvelane — the son of Ox-Knee, three spans tall, with a golden bell at his neck and horns behind his ears — appears, begs for a taste, swells to seventy fathoms, and vanishes with every drop. Only Kalevipoeg, craftier than his kin, bargains for the creature's golden bell before granting permission, then defeats him with a single flick of the finger. The old crone recognizes the bell as the secret instrument of Horned Grandfather, boasts of the days when she slapped both Kalevipoeg and Sulevipoeg as suitors, and leaps dancing into the chasm. As the heroes sleep, the turf-mother's daughters come dancing on dewdrop-threads to dress them in fog-hats and dew-spun coats, weave true-dreams with false-borders, and sing a prophetic lullaby: do not tug at the stars, do not stumble on the moon, do not touch the sun — and when you ride to war, leave the weak unbeaten, the boys untouched, the children's fathers unslain.

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 Seven Summers of Peace

(Lines 1–28)

A blessed generation
Bloomed upon the roads of Estonia,
The cradle of peace rocked
Children gently
In a mother's tender embrace
Seven summers undisturbed,
Seven winters unassailed.

Olev was, the city-wise,
Had raised the solid ramparts,
Had set the ditches right,
Had braced the corner towers,
Had built the city of beauty
Upon Kalev's burial hill,
As an ornament for father's resting-place,
As a memorial for gentle mother.

Part Two — The Three Cities

(Lines 29–74)

People in great numbers,
Families in flocks
Were seen rolling toward shelter,
Who like hens at the hawk's cry
Crept into hiding-places
Away from the eyes of war-death,
Away from the threat of ruin.

Kalev's dear son,
Gathering the people around him,
Called out: "The city shall stand as Lindanisa,
In memory of mother,
For no place nourishes children
So richly as a mother's breast."

Alev's beloved son
Had a second city
Founded in Harjumaa,
Raised amid the marshes,
In a clearing of the forest-wilds;
Sulevipoeg, the kinsman,
Founded Alutaha
As a third stronghold,
A shelter against the foe.

Part Three — The Invaders at Viru

(Lines 75–132)

The long and peaceful generation,
The blossom-rich time of fortune,
War began to drain,
The chariot of enmity to crush.

Onto Viru's shore there rolled
Warriors by the hundred,
Slayers by the thousand,
Tormentors thick as clouds,
Whom distant winds had borne,
Whom the currents of the sea had carried.

Swift runners bearing orders
Flew on racing feet to Lindanisa
To announce to the king
That already war was riding,
The chariot of enmity was rolling:
"Come, strong one, to strike!
Come, mighty one, to drive the foe!"

Kalev's son leapt
Into the war-horse's saddle,
Hurried with the wind's rush
Briskly to the roads of Viru
To quench the clamour of war,
To still the fury of the foe.
He took with him fighting-men,
The strongest for his cup-bearers;
Fifty from Viru,
Sixty from Kuressaare,
Seventy from Soomemaa,
A hundred more from the islands.

Part Four — The Ride to War

(Lines 133–250)

Kalev's precious horse
Rattled in silver fittings,
Clinked in golden trappings:
Silver bridles gleamed upon its head,
Golden bars shone on the reins,
A taler-belt hung behind the tail,
Curled chains about its body.
The sword gave sign of the warrior,
The iron spur of the mighty one,
The golden shield of the king.

Whoever saw this mighty man's son
Riding forth to war,
Treading the road of enmity,
Must truly acknowledge:
"This is a lad of great worth,
This is a man of dear price!
The horse beneath him is silver,
The king upon it is gold.
The man blows fire into the sea,
Bellows flames into the waves,
Blaze into the snowdrifts.
He builds a house upon the wing of the wind,
A chamber upon the rainbow,
Rafters in the cloud-swells,
A bed upon the hailstone ranks!
He sits upon the sun itself,
Props his neck against the moon's curve,
The other side against a star;
He breathes a horse from the wind,
Hews its hooves from dewgrass,
Sets its eyes from aspen-leaves,
Makes its ears from bulrushes.

Where he moves his horse,
There a city stirs into being;
Where he turns his horse,
There a hill swells forth;
Where he makes his horse dance,
There a mountain dances up,
A highland grows."

He rides across the Finnish bridge,
Rattling along the silver road;
The Harju limestone floor thunders,
The Viru road trembles.
The horse beneath him like a furnace,
The stallion beneath like a star,
He himself above like the sun,
In splendidly wrought garments,
A golden-lettered hat upon his head,
Ribbons of sun-writing above,
A belt of silver filigree at his waist,
Golden spurs upon his heels.
Where he goes, the sky gleams;
Where he walks, the sky trembles.
All the marshes bloom in blue weather,
The meadows blossom with flowers.
The nightingale calls from the bird-cherry,
The cuckoo from the distant spruce,
The thrush from the thick brushwood,
The songbirds from the birch grove!

Part Five — The Maidens' Song

(Lines 251–310)

The Viru maidens watched,
The Jarva girls peeked through narrowed eyes,
The Laane maidens wept softly,
The Harju sweethearts sighed:
"If only this man were for our share!
If only this dear one were our companion,
If only this bridegroom were ours:
We would stand the summer unfed,
A year without bread,
A winter without tasting grain!
We would feed him pork,
Fatten him with hen-eggs,
Butter him with butter-slices,
Lay him upon pillows to sleep,
In a silk bed to slumber,
In satin to rest."

Dear Kalev's son,
Riding the road to war,
Left his tracks upon the turf,
Hoof-stars upon the rocks.
Had the turf a mind,
Had the stones a tongue,
The limestone cliffs a voice,
The rock-walls words:
Then dozens of places,
Thousands of witness-mouths
Would sift the tidings,
Would winnow the knowledge
Of Kalev's son's passage,
Of his riding to the war-road.

Part Six — The Battle on Viru's Fields

(Lines 311–410)

On Viru's wide fields
The war-men stood in ranks,
Blood-hungry companions
In a flock like a family of birds,
Larger than an anthill
In the sunlight;
Others gone by other roads,
Gone widely to lay waste,
To drain the villages,
To torment the families,
To plunder the people's goods,
To slay the strongest.

Sulevipoeg rode to battle,
Alevipoeg drove the foe,
Drove the enemy to the edge,
Olevipoeg to the brink.
Kalevipoeg, the mighty man,
Rode his horse in the saddle
Charging into the battle's centre,
Into the thickest place of enmity.
He let the horse leap,
The dappled one spring
Upon the necks of the strongest,
And knew how to wield the sword in fury
Like a killer at play,
To stretch out the fire-blade in its whirling
In the manner of death itself.

Wheeling through the battle's midst,
Kalev scattered men's heads
Like leaves in a birch grove,
In an autumn-yellowed stand of birches,
Shattered limbs to pieces,
Shinbones by the hundred,
Arm-bones by the cartload,
Shoulder-bones by the thousand,
Rib-bones ten thousand.

In stacks the dead covered the field,
Bodies heaped into hillocks,
In many places the corpse-trunks
Grew into mountains on the mossy ground;
At Assamalla there stiffened
Ten thousand fallen bodies.

Kalev's precious horse
Swam in the enemy's blood-stream,
Belly-deep among the bones.
Hands severed from their sides
Lay like branches on the ground,
Warriors' fingers
Like reeds in the marsh,
Like stubble on the harvest field.

Part Seven — The Horse in the Bog

(Lines 411–498)

Not a single one of the enemy
Would have escaped alive,
Would have fled from the torment,
Had not the chains of misfortune
Shackled Kalevipoeg,
Made barriers on the death-road.

For as he galloped at the chase,
Storming at fire-pace
To strike at the fleeing fugitives,
The refugees making for shelter,
With his fierce hand to smite them,
The horse leapt springing
From ridge to ridge, from hillock to hillock;
Stretching its stride too far,
It plunged into the midst of the heights,
Fell into a hidden quaking-bog,
Kalev's precious steed;
The belly split against the tussocks,
The legs sank into the swamp,
The hooves vanished in the mire.

Kalev's mighty son,
Groaning at the horse's ruin,
Spoke in foul temper:
"Become, become, I curse you,
Become a swamp for carrion-rotting,
A mud-sink for festering,
Wet filth for putrefying,
Bog-sap for breeding,
Dew for the wart-toads,
A treat for the angry vipers!"

Kalev's mighty son,
Since he could not pursue
The flock of fleeing fugitives,
Called his brothers from the battle-field,
His companions from the death-road:
"Come, friends, from the death-work,
From the blood-field, brothers!
Let us go to rest our limbs,
To refresh our weary bodies!"

Ravens had come in flocks,
Wolves from the forest in packs
Having scented the enemy's blood,
Came seeking their share,
Looking for plunder from the slain.

Part Eight — The Victory Speech

(Lines 499–571)

Then the men divided among themselves
The spoils of war,
The enemy's treasure:
The greater wages went to captains,
The dearer goods to elders,
Gold was given to the king,
Silver coin to the officers,
Copper coin to the common soldiers,
Pennies to the boy-troops.

Kalev's mighty son
Set his words in motion,
As the raven had proclaimed,
As the wise bird had given sign:
"Take, friends, brothers,
From today's battle,
From the sword's bloody fury,
A token for the days to come!
Let men be like walls,
Stand like iron ramparts,
Towers made of steel,
Stand bravely on the war-ride
With the oak-forest's strength,
With the cliff-rock's firmness,
As a shelter against the enemy's assault —
When the slayer comes to seize,
The foe comes to take,
Then there is no need to fear war,
No need to fear the stranger's fighting,
The cruelest tormentors.
Our land, let it remain a bride,
An inheritance of free birth!
Let the strongest become king,
The bravest become elder over the rest!
Let power remain one man's portion,
The kingdom in one hand —
Else from the many-mindedness
The wind raises strife!"

Then he sent the war-men,
The mustered host
Homeward to walk,
To carry the victory-tidings,
To announce them to the villages.
He marched himself with his friends,
With his dear foster-brothers
Across the broad open land,
Through the great moss-bogs.

Part Nine — Through the Uncharted Forest

(Lines 573–648)

At the slanting of the daylight
The heroes' sons reached
The edge of a vast forest
Where none had walked before,
Where no paths had been cut.
Kalev's mighty son
Rushed to break a road,
To cut a path for the others.

Where the four of them walked
Through the broad forest-wilds,
There a wider clearing formed,
There an avenue was made.

Walking further on,
Smoke rose before their eyes,
What seemed like village hearth-smoke,
Like charcoal-pit smoke from the forest,
Rising up toward the sky.

Drawing nearer still,
Fire-sparks leapt up,
Flames shone into the treetops,
Gilding the caps of the spruces,
Reddening the pines.

The mighty men hastened
Their steps by the smoke's guidance,
Their journey by the fire-star,
Until in a ravine-cave
They found the long-tail's den.
There were no cubs in the den,
No kittens of the horned crone.

Part Ten — The Old Woman's Cauldron

(Lines 649–764)

Who sat at the cave's mouth
As the horned one's house-keeper?

An old crone, with wrinkled cheeks,
Sat in the cave as house-keeper,
Making fire beneath the pot,
Skimming the froth from the top,
Testing now and then with the ladle
How the cooking tasted.

Alev's beloved son
Came to inquire the matter,
To question the cook:
"What are you cooking, dear one?
What have you rising in the pot,
What precious thing swelling in the cauldron?"

The old woman answered back,
Sang out in a kindly voice:
"I cook for hungry bellies
A thin broth to lap,
Am softening cabbage-heads
Tenderly for my sons,
Am stirring up a dish for myself."

Sulevipoeg spoke:
"Toss in a stranger's share,
Put our portion into
The broth-pot as an extra,
For we have traveled far lands,
Done hard work today,
Suffered on empty bellies
The pinch of the hunger-tooth!
Go, old mother, to sleep,
Under the bushes to rest!
We in turns
Will tend the cooking-pot,
Fan the little fire
To burn beneath the pot,
Gather dry twigs,
Heap up spruce-branches."

The old crone understood at once,
Answered back cunningly:
"If I fulfill your wishes,
Satisfy your desires,
Then let no blame fall upon me,
No reproach spread wide;
The fault rests only with the one who wished,
The reproach with the one who asked leave.
Listen, dear guests,
Be watchful, brothers!
An uninvited stranger,
An unbidden boy
Might come wandering along the path
To taste the cooking,
To sample the broth from the cauldron.
With watchful eyes, brothers,
See to it that the strange thief
Cannot wipe the pot clean,
Cannot dry the cauldron's bottom —
Otherwise you must, my sons,
Endure an empty belly."

Three of the mighty men
Promised gladly
To guard the cauldron in turns,
To stand watch with watchful eyes.
Kalev's dearest son,
Craftier than his companions,
Would not bind his word,
Would not glue a promise.

Part Eleven — Alevipoeg's Watch

(Lines 765–946)

The old crone, wrinkle-cheeked,
Crept at once into the bushes,
Into a marsh-bed to slumber.
Kalev's mighty son
Turned his body by the fire's glow
To stretch his weariness,
To ease his backbone.
Sulevipoeg, the kinsman,
Bent down on his side
To doze in the shadow of a bush.
Olevipoeg, the building-wise,
Raiser of high towers,
Dropped down flat on his back
To bend his hip-bones.

Alev's beloved son,
Who had taken the watch-turn,
Sat alert by the fire
With unwavering eyelids,
Fanning the flames below,
Heaping the logs together,
Gathering more twigs
To feed the fire.

After a little while,
Three threads of sleep were spun
In the alder grove;
The old crone, wrinkle-cheeked,
Spun the fourth thread
As an addition to the yarn.

Alevipoeg alone
Sat alert by the fire,
Keeping watch with watchful eyes,
Fanning the flames,
Blowing them to burn.

From the hidden turf
Stepped forth with timid gait,
With stealthy steps,
The son of Ox-Knee —
Three spans tall,
A little golden bell at his neck,
Small horns behind his ears,
A goat-beard under his chin.

The son of Ox-Knee
Tiptoed nearer to the fire,
Set his words in motion,
Spoke in a pleading voice:
"Give me leave, dear brother,
To taste the wet broth,
To try the cabbage-stew!"

Alevipoeg understood at once,
Spoke in mockery:
"If you, little shrimp, don't tumble —
You gadfly — to the ladle's bottom,
Then I'd grant your wish,
I'd allow you the broth."

The son of Ox-Knee
Understood at once, answered back:
"I'll perch on the pot's rim
Without a ladle, the size of a hen,
If I get kindly leave."
Then he hopped up with a snap —
Lipsti! — onto the pot's rim
To lap the broth.

Then he began to straighten,
The boy began to swell:
He rose to spruce-tree height,
Swelled nearly to the clouds,
Grew seventy fathoms tall
And a couple of spans more;
Then vanished like the dew
In the sunshine,
In blue smoke from sight.

Alev's beloved son
Quickly checked the pot:
The pot was as if swept clean,
The cauldron entirely emptied.

Alev's beloved son
Carried water to the cauldron,
Cabbage-heads to fill the pot again.
He laughed: perhaps I'll give the others a joke.
He woke Olevipoeg
To guard the cooking-pot,
Then crept under a bush himself
To stretch out his weariness.

Part Twelve — Olevipoeg's Watch

(Lines 947–1069)

After a little while,
Three threads of sleep were spun
In the alder grove;
The old crone, wrinkle-cheeked,
Spun the fourth thread
As an addition to the yarn.

Olevipoeg alone
Sat alert by the fire,
Keeping watch with watchful eyes,
Fanning the flames,
Blowing them to burn.

The son of Ox-Knee
Tiptoed nearer to the fire,
Set his words in motion,
Spoke in a pleading voice:
"Give me leave, dear brother,
To taste the wet broth,
To try the cabbage-stew!"

Olevipoeg understood at once,
Spoke in mockery:
"If you're not afraid to break your neck,
You mosquito, tumbling over the ladle's rim
Into the abyss,
Then I'd grant your wish,
I'd allow you the broth."

The son of Ox-Knee
Understood at once, answered back:
"I'll perch on the pot's rim
Without a ladle, the size of a rooster,
If I get kindly leave."

Then he hopped up with a snap —
Lipsti! — onto the pot's rim
To lap the broth.

Then he began to straighten,
The boy began to swell:
He rose to spruce-tree height,
Swelled nearly to the clouds,
Grew seventy fathoms tall
And a couple of spans more,
Then vanished like the dew
In the sunshine,
In blue smoke from sight.

Olevipoeg, the building-wise,
Quickly checked the pot:
The pot was as if swept clean,
The cauldron entirely emptied.

Olevipoeg, the building-wise,
Carried water to the cauldron,
Cabbage-heads to fill the pot again,
Left the others a joke to laugh at.
He woke Sulevipoeg
To guard the cooking-pot,
Then crept under a bush himself
To stretch out his weariness.

Part Thirteen — Sulevipoeg's Watch

(Lines 1070–1191)

After a little while,
Three threads of sleep were spun
In the alder grove;
The old crone, wrinkle-cheeked,
Spun the fourth thread
As an addition to the yarn.

Sulevipoeg alone
Sat alert by the fire,
Keeping watch with watchful eyes,
Fanning the flames,
Blowing them to burn.

The son of Ox-Knee
Tiptoed nearer to the fire,
Set his words in motion,
Spoke in a pleading voice:
"Give me leave, dear brother,
To taste the wet broth,
To try the cabbage-stew!"

Sulevipoeg heard the plea,
Spoke in mockery:
"If you, boy, don't fall
Into the ladle to drown in broth-waves,
Then I'd grant your wish,
I'd allow you the broth."

The son of Ox-Knee
Understood at once, answered back:
"I'll perch on the pot's rim
Without a ladle, the size of a cat,
If I get kindly leave."

Then he hopped up with a snap —
Lipsti! — onto the pot's rim
To lap the broth.

Sulevipoeg, the companion,
Quickly checked the pot:
The pot was as if swept clean,
The cauldron entirely emptied.

Sulevipoeg, the kinsman,
Carried water to the cauldron,
Cabbage-heads to fill the pot again,
Left the others a joke to laugh at.
He woke Kalevipoeg
To guard the cooking-pot,
Then crept under a bush himself
To stretch out his weariness.

Part Fourteen — Kalevipoeg's Watch

(Lines 1192–1345)

After a little while,
Three threads of sleep were spun
In the alder grove;
The old crone, wrinkle-cheeked,
Spun the fourth thread
As an addition to the yarn.

Kalevipoeg alone
Sat alert by the fire,
Keeping watch with watchful eyes;
He broke down pine trees,
Toppled oak trees,
Snapped off spruce trees,
Put the timber beneath the pot
And blew them into flame.

The son of Ox-Knee
Tiptoed nearer to the fire,
Set his words in motion,
Spoke in a pleading voice:
"Give me leave, dear brother,
To taste the wet broth,
To try the cabbage-stew!"

Kalev's cunning son
Understood at once, answered back:
"What can you, little man,
Give me as a pledge,
Fix as a gift for me,
If I must grant your wish
And allow you the broth?
Leave as pledge a child's thing —
The little golden bell from your neck!
Otherwise my men will wake,
The old woman will rouse from sleep,
Before the broth is on the table,
Before the cabbages reach the bowls."

The son of Ox-Knee
Coaxed with honey-tongue:
"Dear son of a mighty man!
Do not take from a small child
The little golden bell from his neck!
Before dawn, leaving home,
My little mother secretly bound it,
Without grandfather's knowledge,
Without the brothers seeing,
The little golden bell about my neck,
So that if the child got lost
In strange fields, wandered into bushes,
The bell would ring and signal
To those searching,
A sign for those in pursuit."

Kalev's dear son
Answered back cunningly:
"While you, little man,
Go to taste your food,
Leave the bell as pledge,
So that when your belly's full
You don't leave without thanks;
Afterwards I'll give the pledge back,
Tie it around your neck myself,
Just as your dear mother
Tenderly adorned you."

The son of Ox-Knee
Unbound the bell from his neck,
Gave the precious little thing
As a pledge to Kalevipoeg.

Kalev's mighty son,
Having got the bell,
Extended his finger —
Kropsti! — upon the little forehead,
Flicked a blow on the brow.

With a riksa-raksa crackling,
As if Kou were thundering,
As if lightning were threatening,
The little brother crashed
With a rumble into the turf,
So that neither path nor sign
Could trace his tracks.
Blue smoke coiled
Where the small one vanished.

Part Fifteen — The Old Woman's Dance

(Lines 1346–1460)

The three mighty men
Woke by the fire,
The old woman roused from sleep
To see this strange affair;
They came at once to find
What had happened against the order.
The old woman looked,
Understood the riddle at once,
What had happened against nature.
She recognized the bell —
The secret instrument of Horned Grandfather,
Which nourishes strength,
Which grows the might in a man.

The old crone, wrinkle-cheeked,
Let fly a song in snapping rhythm,
Words set in motion:
"Was I not once young?
Did I not stamp my heel up high,
Raise my heel to a great height?
A hundred times I rode to weddings,
A thousand times along the dance-road,
Hopping with a nimble foot,
Whirling with a light one.
The boys' eyes burned
Upon my rosy cheeks,
Upon my currant-berry gaze,
Upon my blue silk,
Upon my red ribbons.
Kalevipoeg offered his hand,
Sulev wanted to give a kiss —
I slapped Kalevipoeg straight-on,
I slapped Sulevipoeg sideways!
If I did not break a neck before,
Stretch out an arm,
Wrench a hip,
Twist an ankle,
Then neither egg nor chicken-neck
Will break today
From hopping and dancing."

Singing thus in snapping rhythm,
The old woman leapt
From the height into the chasm,
Down where the blue smoke
Had taken the three-spans creature,
Where the little child had fallen before.

The mighty men's company
Marveled at the old woman's dance
And laughed, the four of them.

Part Sixteen — The Brothers' Supper

(Lines 1461–1506)

Between mouthfuls they told one another
How things had gone with them
On their turns at the watch,
How the little brother
Had emptied the cooking-pot,
Then straightened himself,
The boy swelling
In mockery nearly to the clouds.

Kalevipoeg spoke:
"Let us, brothers, before dawn
Lie down a while to rest,
To refresh our bodies!
When I have stretched my back,
Bent my hip-bones,
Then perhaps I'll take another road
By fortune's lead in the morning.

You go your own way,
Walk homeward, brothers,
To jest with your wives,
To make merry with your children!"

Then the men stretched out
By the fire-light to rest,
To let bread settle into bone.

Part Seventeen — The Grass-Maidens' Dream

(Lines 1507–1699)

There drew near other beings,
Other strangers to look —
The turf-mother's young daughters
Tripping on dewdrop-threads,
To play upon the turf.

"Sisters, dear ones!
Let us go merrily swinging
Upon the dewgrass-stalk,
Upon the meadow-sweet's stem,
Upon the crane's-bill's base!
Already the evening-cocks have sung,
The twilight-hens have called
From grandfather's meadow,
From the branch of Taara's oak.

What sleeps there upon the turf?
On the turf sleep four men.
Let us adorn the dear brothers,
The boys flushed by sunset —
Let us make them fog-hats,
Dew-spun coats.

Sisters, dear ones!
Let us go to sew dreams,
To show visions:
Let us weave shapes before the dawn,
Let us embroider merry-patterns
Into Kalevipoeg's head!
Let us make a portion of true-writing,
False-writings in between,
Deceiving-writings in the gaps!
Let the man in his sleeping
Let the time of fortune blossom,
Let him hear the golden cuckoo's call,
The silver bird's voice!

Does the cuckoo call sorrow?
Does the little bird sing grief?
Let sorrow stay in the spruce-grove,
Let mourning stay in the birch-wood!

Dear son of a mighty man,
When you go on your journey,
Riding the road of death,
Dress your horse in pearls,
Your steed in silver fittings,
Put golden bridles on its head,
Put silver buckles on,
Put silken ribbons on;
Bind silk about the horse's eyes,
Silver filigree about the steed's hooves,
Put a red ribbon in the mane,
A taler in the forelock,
Bind the tail in samite!

Kalevipoeg, boy,
You want to ride the sky-road —
Do not tug at the stars,
Do not stumble on the moon,
Do not touch the sun!
Leave the sun to shine,
The moon to give its glow,
The stars to show the road!

Kalevipoeg, boy,
You want to ride the Hell-road —
Do not destroy Hell's doors,
Do not shake Hell's gates!
Leave Hell's walls standing,
Leave the doors unbroken,
The gates unshaken,
The walls standing in their place!

When you ride to war,
Roll along the road of enmity —
Leave the weak unbeaten,
The boys untouched,
The children's fathers unslain!
Then no widow will mourn,
No maiden's eyes will fill with tears,
No orphan children grieve."

A bird sang from the birch grove,
A cuckoo called from the spruce,
A fairy-daughter from the aspens,
The home-hen cooed.

The turf-mother's young daughters
Ended their merry feast;
They sprang from the grass-stalk,
From the meadow-sweet's stem,
From the crane's-bill's base,
Hurrying nervously home;
Already their mother raised her voice,
Already the stern one was calling:
"Come, slender maidens!
Come to do your work,
To bind the silks,
To braid the red ribbons —
Already the Creator's roosters have sung,
Have sung from Uku's doorstep,
From grandfather's gateway.
Sisters, dear ones!
Let us walk quickly home;
Our year of fortune is ended,
Our feast of joy is done!"

Colophon

The Kalevipoeg (Son of Kalev) is the Estonian national epic, compiled and composed by Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald (1803-1882) from oral folk songs, local legend, and his own literary invention. Published in its scholarly edition in 1857-1861 under the auspices of the Gelehrte Estnische Gesellschaft, it tells in twenty cantos and approximately 19,000 verse lines the life of the giant hero Kalevipoeg from his birth to his doom at the gates of the underworld. Canto XVII contains approximately 850 verse lines and covers the first great battle against foreign invaders, the magical cauldron-watch in the forest, and the prophetic dream-song of the turf-mother's daughters.

The source text is the Estonian text of the 1857 first edition as preserved in Project Gutenberg (#25062). Translated from the Estonian by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. The translation preserves the parallelism and alliterative structure of Estonian regivarss. No existing English translation was consulted as a source.

Compiled, translated, and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Scribed by Tuuli (Life 26 of the Uralic-Alpha lineage).

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Source Text

Estonian text of Kalevipoeg Canto XVII, from the 1857 first edition of Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald, as preserved in Project Gutenberg (#25062). Approximately 850 verse lines in literary Estonian regivarss.

Õnnerikas põlvekene
Õitses Eesti radadella,
Rahukätki kiiguteli
Lahedasti lapsukesi
Emalikus heldes kaisus
Seitse suve segamata,
Seitse talve taotamata.
O l e v oli, linnatarka,
Kindlad kantsid kasvatanud,
Kaevandikud kohendanud,
Nurgil tornid toetanud,
Ilulinna ehitanud
Kalevi kalmukünkale,
Isa sängi iluduseks,
Helde memme mälestuseks.
Rahvast nähti rohke′esti,
Peresida pesakasti
Varjupaika veeremaie,
Kes kui kanad kulli kihul
Peidupaika pugesivad
Sõjasurma silma eesta,
Häda ähvarduse eesta.
Kalevite kallis poega,
Kogund rahvasta kaedes,
Hüüdis: "Linn peab L i n d a n i s a k s
Memme mälestuseks jääma,
Sest eks koht ei toida lapsi
Rohkesti kui emarinda."
Alevite armas poega
Laskis teise linnakese
Harjumaale asutada,
Keset sooda kasvatada,
Laanemetsa lagedikku;
Sulevipoeg, sugulane,
Asuteli Alutaha
Kolmandama kindla koha
Varjupaigaks vaenu vastu.
Pikka rahulikku põlve,
Õilmerikast õnneaega
Kippus sõda kurnamaie,
Vaenuvanker vaotamaie.
V i r u randa veerenekse
Sõjalasi sadasida,
Tappejaida tuhandeida,
Piinajaida pilvedena,
Keda kaugelt toonud tuuled,
Vetevood veeretanud.
Kiire käsu kandijaida
Lendes sammul Lindanissa
Kuningalle kuulutama,
Et ju sõda sõudemassa,
Vaenuvanker veeremassa:
"Tule, tugev, tappemaie,
Kange, vaenlast kihutama!"
Kalevite poega kargas
Sõjaratsu sadulasse,
Tõttas tuule tuhinalla
Virgult Viru radadelle
Sõjakära kustutama,
Vaenuviha vaigistama.
Võttis kaasa võidumehi,
Kannupoisiks kangemaida;
Viisikümmenda Virusta,
Kuusikümmend Kuressaarest,
Seitsekümmend Soomemaalta,
Sada teisi saarelasi.
Kalevite kallis hobu
Rahadessa raksateli,
Kuldadessa kõlksateli:
Hõbepäitsed paistsid peasta,
Kuldakangid valjastesta,
Taalervööd saba taganta,
Kudruskeed ümber keha.
Mõõk andis märki sõjamehest,
Kannusrauda kange′esta,
Kuldakilpi kuningasta.
Kes see kange mehe poega
Sõtta nägi sõitevada,
Vaenuteeda tallavada,
Pidi tõesti tunnistama:
"See′ p see poissi paistab palju,
See′ p see meesi maksab kallist!
Hobu alla hõbedane,
Kuningas seljas kullasta.
Mees puhub tule meresse,
Lõõtsub lõkkeid lainetesse,
Leeke lumehangedesse.
Toa teeb tuule tiiva peale,
Kambri vikerkaare peale,
Parred pilvepaisudesse,
Sängid raherankadesse!
Istub ise päeva peale,
Toetab kukla kuu küüru,
Tähe vastu teise külje;
Ohkab tuulesse hobuse,
Raiub kasteheinast kabjad,
Pistab piibelehest silmad,
Kõrkjatest teeb kõrvakesed.
Kus ta liigutab hobusta,
Sinna linna liiguteleb;
Kus ta keeritab hobusta,
Sinna kingu kehiteleb;
Kus ta mängitab hobusta,
Sinna mäe mängiteleb,
Kõrgendiku kasvateleb.
Sõidab S o o m e silda mööda
Raksatelles rahateeda;
H a r j u paest põrand paugub,
V i r u tee aga väriseb.
Hobu alla kui see ahju,
Täkku alla kui see tähti,
Ise pealla kui see päeva,
Ehana ehitud riides,
Kübar peassa kuldakirja,
Lindid pealla päevakirja,
Vöö tal vööl hõbekarrast,
Kuldakannus kandadessa.
Kus ta läheb, taevas läigib,
Kus ta kõnnib, taevas kõigub.
Kõik on sood sini-ilulla,
Arud õitsvad lilledessa.
Ööbik hüüab toomingasta,
Kägu kaugelt kuusikusta,
Rästas paksust rägastikust,
Laululinnud lepikusta!
V i r u neiud vaatasivad,
Pilusilmil J ä r v a piigad,
L ä ä n e neiud nuttelesid,
H a r j u armsad ohkelesid:
"Oleks see meesi meie jaoksi!
Oleks kallis meie kaasa,
Oleks see peigu meie päralt:
Me seisaks suve söömata,
Aasta ilma eine′eta,
Talve tangu maitsemata!
Me söödaks ta sealihalla,
Kasvataks kanamunalla,
Võiaks võiviilakailla,
Paneks padjule magama,
Siidisängi suikumaie,
Sametisse puhkamaie."
Kallis Kalevite poega
Sõjateeda sõite′ essa
Jättis jälgi murudella,
Kabjatähti kaljudelle.
Oleks meelta murudella,
Keelekesta kividella,
Paemurrul pajatusta,
Kaljuseinal sõnasida:
Küllap mitukümmend kohta,
Mitu tuhat tunnissuuda
Sõeluksivad sõnumida,
Tuulaksivad teadusida
Kalevite poja käigist,
Sõjateele sõitemisest.
V i r u laiadel väljadel
Seisid seltsis sõjalased,
Vereahned vennikesed
Parves kui see linnupere,
Suurem sipelgate pesa
Päikese paiste′ ella,
Teised läinud teisi teida,
Läinud laialt laastamaie,
Külasida kurnamaie,
Peresida piinamaie,
Rahva vara riisumaie,
Tugevamaid tappemaie.
S u l e v i p o e g sõudis sõtta,
A l e v i p o e g ajas vaenu,
Ajas vaenu veere peale,
O l e v i p o e g otsa peale.
K a l e v i p o e g, kange meesi,
Sõitis hobu sadulassa
Karates sõja keske′elle,
Paksemasse vaenupaika.
Laskis hobu hüpatella,
Kõrvikese kargaella
Kangemate kaela peale,
Mõistis mõõka möllamisel
Mõrtsukana mängitada,
Tulirauda tuiskamisel
Surma kombel sirutada.
Keset sõda keeritelles
Puistas Kalev meeste päida
Nii kui lehti lepikussa,
Kolletanud kaasikussa,
Lõhkus puruks liikmeida,
Sääreluida sadadena,
Käeluida koormatena,
Turjaluida tuhandeida,
Küljeluida kümme tuhat.
Virnas katsid surnud välja,
Kehad kuhjas künkaida,
Mitmes kohas kasvid mäeksi
Surnurünkad sambelilla;
A s s a m a l l a s hangusivad
Kümme tuhat kooljakeha.
Kalevite kallis hobu
Ujus vaenu vereojas,
Kõhust saadik kontidessa.
Küljest lahutatud käsi
Magas nii kui raagu maassa,
Sõjameeste sõrmesida
Nii kui roogu rabadessa,
Kõrrekesi lõikusväljal.
Mitte poleks vaenumeestest
Ühteainust elus pääsend,
Piinast saanud põgenema,
Kui poleks õnnetuse kütke
Kalevida kammitsenud,
Surmateele teinud tõkkeid.
Kui ta ratsul kihutelles,
Tulisammul tuisatessa
Püüdis pakkupagejaida,
Redupaika rändajaida
Valju käega virutada,
Kargas hobu hüpatelles
Mäest mäkke, künkast künka;
Sammu pikaks sirutelles
Kukkus keskele mägede,
Sattus sala-rabasoosse
Kalevite kallis kõrbi;
Magu lõhkes mätastikku,
Jalad soo sisse vajusid,
Kabjad kõntsaje kadusid.
Kalevite kange poega
Hobu hukku ohatelles
Pahal tujul pajatama:
"Saagu, saagu, ma sajatan,
Saagu sa rabaks raipenema,
Porisooksi pendimaie,
Märjaks virtsuks mädanema,
Soosapiks sündimaie,
Kasteks kärnakonnadelle,
Maitseks vihamadudelle!"
Kalevite kange poega,
Kui ei jõudnud kimbutada
Pakkupagejate parve,
Kutsus vennad vaenuväljalt,
Seltsilased surmateelta:
"Tulge, sõbrad, surmatöölta,
Vereväljalt, vennikesed!
Lähme liikmeid puhkamaie,
Väsind keha karastama!"
Kaarnad olid karjakaupa,
Hundid metsast hulgalisti
Vaenuverda haisutanud,
Tulid osa otsimaie,
Surmast saaki saamaie.
Seal siis mehed sõjasaaki,
Vaenulaste varandusta
Isekeskis jagamaie:
Suurem palk sai pealikulle,
Kallim vara vanemalle,
Kulda anti kuningalle,
Hõberaha ülemaile,
Vaskiraha väetimaile,
Penningida poisteväele.
Kalevite kange poega
Seadis sõnad sõudemaie,
Kuidas kaaren kuulutanud,
Tarka lindu annud tähte:
"Võtke, sõbrad, vennikesed,
Tänapäevsest taplemisest,
Mõõga verisest möllusest
Tulevpäevil′ ettetähte!
Mehed olgu nii kui müüri,
Seisku nii kui raudaseina,
Teraksesta tehtud tornid,
Seisku vahvast′ sõjasõidul
Tammemetsa tugevusel,
Kaljurünka kindlusella
Varjuks vaenu tungi vastu,
Kui tuleb tapper tabamaie,
Vaenulane võttemaie, -
Siis ei ole karta sõda,
Karta võõra võitlemista,
Kurjemate kiusamista.
Meie maa, see jäägu mõrsjaks,
Priipõlve pärijaksi!
Kangem saagu kuningaksi,
Vahvam teiste vanemaksi!
Võimus jäägu ühe voliks,
Ühe kätte kuningriiki,
Muidu hulgalisil meelil
Tuulest tüli tõusemisi!"
Siisap sundis sõjamehi,
Valitsetud väehulka
Kodu poole kõndimaie,
Võidusõnumida viima,
Küladelle kuulutama.
Sammus ise sõpradega,
Kalli kasuvendadega
Üle laia lagediku,
Läbi suurte samblasoode.
Päevaveeru palistusel
Jõudsid kangelaste pojad
Laia laane ligidalle,
Kus ei oldud enne käidud,
Radasida rajatatud.
Kalevite kange poega
Tuisalt teeda tegemaie,
Rada teistel′ rajatama.
Kus nad käisid neljakesi
Läbi laiast laanemetsast,
Sinna sündis suurem sihti,
Sinna tehti tänavada.
Kaugemalle kõndidessa
Tõusis suitsu silmadesse,
Mis kui küla kütissuitsu,
Metsast miiliaugu suitsu
Taeva poole tõusenekse.
Ligemalle lähenedes
Kerkis tulekübemeida,
Paistis leeki latvadesse,
Kuldas kuuse kübaraida,
Puneteli pedajaida.
Kanged mehed kiirustasid
Suitsu juhil sammusida,
Tuletähtel teedekäiki,
Kuni kuristiku koopas
Leidsid pikasaba pesa.
Polnud pesas poegasida,
Kriimu eide kutsikaida.
Kes see istus koopasuussa
Kriimul koduhoidijaksi?
Vanamoori, kortsus palgeil,
Istus koopas koduhoidjaks,
Tulda paja alla tehes,
Vahtu pealta võtte′essa,
Kulbil vahel katsudessa,
Kuidas keetu maitsenekse.
Alevite armas poega
Asja otsust ajamaie,
Keetijalta küsimaie:
"Mis sa keedad, kullakene?
Mis sul pajas paisumassa,
Katlas kallist kerkimassa?"
Vanaeite kostis vastu,
Laulis vastu lahke′esti:
"Keedan kehva kõhtudelle
Lahja leeme lakkekesta,
Paisutelen kapsapäida
Pehmitelles poegadelle,
Räitan roaksi eneselle."
S u l e v i p o e g pajatama:
"Viska peale võõra võrra,
Pane meie osa peale
Leemepajal′ lisanduseks,
Kes me käinud kauget maada,
Teinud täna ränka tööda,
Kannatanud tühjal kõhul
Näljahamba näpistusta!
Mine, eite, magamaie,
Põõsa alla puhkamaie!
Küllap meie kordamisi
Keedukatelt kohendame,
Lehvitame lõkkekesta
Paja alla põlemaie,
Koristame kuivi raage,
Kokku kuuseoksakesi."
Vanamoori mõistis kohe,
Kostis vastu kavalasti:
"Kui ma sõuan soovimisi,
Täidan teie tahtemisi,
Sest ei sündku mulle süüda,
Laiemalta laimamista;
Süü jääb üksi soovijalle,
Laimu lubaküsijalle.
Kuulge, kulla külalised,
Olge valvsad, vennikesed!
Võiks ehk kutsumata võõras,
Palumata poisikene
Kogemata teeda käies
Keedust tulla katsumaie,
Märga katlast maitsemaie.
Valvsail silmil, vennikesed,
Vaadake, et võõras varas
Pada ei saaks pühkimaie,
Katlapõhja kuivatama, -
Muidu peate, pojukesed,
Tühja kõhtu kannatama."
Kanged mehed kolmekesi
Lubasivad lusti pärast
Kordamööda katelt hoida,
Valvsail silmil vahiks olla.
Kalevite kallim poega,
Kavalam kui kaimukesed,
Saand ei sõna sõlmimaie,
Lubadusi liimimaie.
Vanaeite, kortsus palgeil,
Puges kohe põõsastikku,
Soesängi suikumaie.
Kalevite kange poega
Pööras keha tulepaistel
Väsimusta venitama,
Seljasooni sirutama.
S u l e v i p o e g, sugulane,
Käänas maha külitie
Põõsa varju põõnutama.
O l e v i p o e g, hoonetarka,
Kõrge torni kasvataja,
Langes maha lamaskille
Puusaluida painutama.
Alevite armas poega,
Kes see võtnud vahikorra,
Istus ärksalt tule ääres
Langemata laugudella,
Lehvitelles lõket alla,
Kohendelles tukke kokku,
Korjas raage rohkemasti
Lõkke′ elle lisanduseks.
Pisukese aja pärast
Korrutati kolmel keerul
Unelõnga lepikussa;
Vanaeite, kortsus palgeil,
Ketras neljandama keeru
Lõngadelle lisanduseks.
A l e v i p o e g üksipäini
Istus ärksalt tule ääres,
Valvsail silmil vahiks olles,
Lehvitelles lõkkeida,
Puhutelles põlemaie.
Peitelikust murupinnast
Astus välja argsel käigil,
Salaliku sammudella
Härjapõlvelase poega,
Kolme vaksa kõrgukene,
Kaelas kuldakellukene,
Sarvekesed kõrva taga,
Kitsehabe alla lõua.
Härjapõlvelase poega
Tipsas tule ligemalle,
Seadis sõnad sõudemaie,
Palvekeelil pajatama:
"Anna luba, armas venda,
Maitseda mul leememärga,
Kapsakeedust katsudella!"
Alevipoeg mõistis kohe,
Pajateli pilkamisi:
"Kui sa, kõhetu, ei kukuks,
Upuks, kärbes, kulbi põhja,
Siis ma täidaks soovimista,
Lubaks sulle leemekesta."
Härjapõlvelase poega
Mõistis kohe, kostis vastu:
"Küllap servan paja servast
Kulbitagi kana võrra,
Kui saan lahket lubadusta."
Kargas aga kõpsatille
Lipsti! paja serva peale
Leemekesta lakkumaie.
Siisap selli sirgumaie,
Poisikene paisumaie:
Kerkis kuuse kõrguseni,
Paisus ligi pilvedeni,
Sirgus seitsekümmend sülda,
Paisus peale paari vaksa;
Kadus siis kui kastekene
Päikese paistusella
Sinisuitsul silma eesta.
Alevite armas poega
Varsti pada vaatamaie:
Pada oli kui pühitud,
Katel välja koristatud.
Armas Alevite poega
Kandis vetta kattelasse,
Kapsapäida paja täiteks.
Naeris: teen ehk teistel′ nalja.
Äratelles Olevida
Keedupada kaitsemaie,
Puges ise põõsa alla
Väsimusta venitama.
Pisukese aja pärast
Korrutati kolmel keerul
Unelõnga lepikussa;
Vanaeite, kortsus palgeil,
Ketras neljandama keeru
Lõngadelle lisanduseks.
O l e v i p o e g üksipäini
Istus ärksalt tule ääres,
Valvsail silmil pidas vahti,
Lehvitelles lõkkeida,
Puhutelles põlemaie.
Peitelikust murupinnast
Astus välja argsel käigil,
Salamahti sammudella
Härjapõlvelase poega,
Kolme vaksa kõrgukene,
Kaelas kuldakellukene,
Sarvekesed kõrva taga,
Kitsehabe alla lõua.
Härjapõlvelase poega
Tipsas tule ligemalle,
Seadis sõnad sõudemaie,
Palvekeelil palumaie:
"Anna luba, armas venda,
Maitseneda leememärga,
Kapsakeedust katsuella!"
O l e v i p o e g mõistis kohe,
Pajateli pilkamisi:
"Kui ei karda kaela murda,
Sääski, üle kulbiserva
Kuristikku kukkudessa,
Siis ma täidaks soovimista,
Lubaks sulle leemekesta."
Härjapõlvelase poega
Mõistis kohe, kostis vastu:
"Küllap servan paja servast
Kulbitagi kuke võrra,
Kui saan lahket lubadusta."
Kargas aga kõpsatille
Lipsti! paja serva peale
Leemekesta lakkumaie.
Siisap selli sirgumaie,
Poisikene paisumaie:
Kerkis kuuse kõrguseni,
Paisus ligi pilvedeni,
Sirgus seitsekümmend sülda,
Paisus peale paari vaksa,
Kadus siis kui kastekene
Päikese paistusella
Sinisuitsul silma eesta.
Olevipoeg, hoonetarka,
Varsti pada vaatamaie:
Pada oli kui pühitud,
Katel välja koristatud.
Olevipoeg, hoonetarka,
Kandis vetta kattelasse,
Kapsapäida paja täiteks,
Jättis naerdes teistel′ nalja.
Ärateli Sulevida
Keedupada kaitsemaie,
Puges ise põõsa alla
Väsimusta venitama.
Pisukese aja pärast
Korrutati kolmel keerul
Unelõnga lepikussa;
Vanaeite, kortsus palgeil,
Ketras neljandama keeru
Lõngadelle lisanduseks.
S u l e v i p o e g üksipäini
Istus ärksalt tule ääres,
Valvsail silmil vahiks olles,
Lehvitelles lõkkeida,
Puhutelles põlemaie.
Peitelikust murupinnast
Astus välja argsel käigil,
Salalike sammudega
Härjapõlvelase poega,
Kolme vaksa kõrgukene,
Kaelas kuldakellukene,
Sarvekesed kõrva taga,
Kitsehabe alla lõua.
Härjapõlvelase poega
Tipsas tule ligemalle,
Seadis sõnad sõudemaie,
Palvekeelil pajatama:
"Anna luba, armas venda,
Maitseneda leememärga,
Kapsakeedust katsudella!"
S u l e v i p o e g mõistis palve,
Pajateli pilkamisi:
"Kui sa, poiss, ei kulbi põhja
Langeks leemelainetesse,
Siis ma täidaks soovimista,
Lubaks sulle leemekesta."
Härjapõlvelase poega
Mõistis kohe, kostis vastu:
"Küllap servan paja servast
Kulbitagi kassi võrra,
Kui saan lahket lubadusta."
Kargas aga kõpsatille
Lipsti! paja serva peale
Leemekesta lakkumaie.
Siisap selli sirgumaie,
Poisikene paisumaie:
Kerkis kuuse kõrguseni,
Paisus ligi pilvedeni,
Sirgus seitsekümmend sülda,
Paisus peale paari vaksa,
Kadus siis kui kastekene
Päikese paistusella
Sinisuitsul silma eesta.
Sulevipoeg, vennikene,
Varsti pada vaatamaie:
Pada oli kui pühitud,
Katel välja koristatud.
Sulevipoeg, sugulane,
Kandis vetta kattelasse,
Kapsapäida paja täiteks,
Jättis nalja teistel′ naerda.
Ärateli Kalevida
Keedupada kaitsemaie,
Puges ise põõsa alla
Väsimusta venitama.
Pisukese aja pärast
Korrutati kolmel keerul
Unelõnga lepikussa;
Vanaeite, kortsus palgeil,
Ketras neljandama keeru
Lõngadelle lisanduseks.
K a l e v i p o e g üksipäini
Istus ärksalt tule ääres,
Valvsail silmil vahiks olles;
Murdis maha mändisida,
Tõukas maha tammesida,
Katkus maha kuuskesida,
Pani puida paja alla
Puhutelles põlemaie.
Peitelikust murupinnast
Astus välja argsel käigil,
Salaliku sammudella
Härjapõlvelase poega,
Kolme vaksa kõrgukene,
Kaelas kuldakellukene,
Sarvekesed kõrva taga,
Kitsehabe alla lõua.
Härjapõlvelase poega
Tipsas tule ligemalle,
Pani sõnad sõudemaie,
Palvekeelil pajatama:
"Anna luba, armas venda,
Maitseneda leememärga,
Kapsakeedust katsudella!"
Kalevite kaval poega
Mõistis kohe, kostis vastu:
"Mis sa mulle, mehikene,
Pandiksi saad panemaie,
Kingituseks kinnitama,
Kui ma sulle soovi järgi
Leemekest pean lubamaie?
Luba pandiks lapse asja -
Kuldakellukene kaelast!
Muidu ärk′vad meie mehed,
Virgub unest vanaeite,
Enne kui leem laua peale,
Kapsad saavad kaussidesse."
Härjapõlvelase poega
Mesikeelil meelitama:
"Kallis kange mehe poega!
Ära võta väikelasel
Kaelast kuldakellukesta!
Koidu eella kodunt tulles
Sidus sala eidekene
Ilma taadi teademata,
Vennakeste vaatamata
Kuldakellukese kaela,
Et kui väeti võõral väljal,
Poega eksiks põõsastikku,
Kellukene kuulutelles
Aru annaks otsijalle,
Tähte tagaajajalle."
Kalevite kallis poega
Kostis vastu kavalasti:
"Seniks, kui sa söögikesta,
Mehike, läed maitsemaie,
Pane pandiks kellukene,
Et kui oled kõhtu täitnud,
Tänuta ei lähe teele;
Pärast panen pandikella,
Köidan ise sulle kaela,
Miska minnes eidekene
Hellasti sind ehitanud."
Härjapõlvelase poega
Köitis kaelast kellukese,
Andis aruasjakese
Pandiks Kalevipojale.
Kalevite kange poega,
Kui oli saanud kellukese,
Sirutelles oma sõrme
Krõpsti! väikse kulmu peale,
Laksas lopsu otsaette.
Riksa-raksa raginaga,
Kui oleks Kõue kärgatamas,
Äikene ähvardamas,
Vajus väike vennikene
Mürinaga murupinda,
Et ei teeda ega tähte
Tema jälgi tunnistanud.
Sinisuitsu siginekse,
Kuhu väike kadunekse.
Kanged mehed kolmekesi
Ärkasivad tule ääres,
Virgus unest vanaeite
Veidrat lugu vaatamaie;
Tulid kohe tunnistama,
Mis siin seadust vastu sündind.
Vanaeite vaatanekse,
Mõistis kohe mõistatuse,
Mis siin sündind vastu seadust.
Küll ta tundis kellukese,
Sarvik-taadi salariista,
Mis see rammu rohkendeleb,
Kangust mehel kasvateleb.
Vanaeite, kortsus palgeil,
Laskis laulus lõksatille
Sõnasida sõudevalle:
"Eks ma olnud enne noori,
Eks ma kõps′tes tõstnud kanda,
Tõstnud kanda kõrge′elle?
Sada korda sõitsin saajas,
Tuhat korda tantsiteeda,
Hüva jalga hüpitelles,
Kerget jalga keeritelles.
Põlesivad poiste silmad
Minu palgepuna peale,
Sõstrasilma pilgu peale,
Sinilise siidi peale,
Punalise paela peale.
Kalevipoeg pakkus kätta,
Sulev tahtis anda suuda;
Lausa lõin Kalevipoega,
Suisa lõin Sulevipoega!
Kui ei enne murdnud kaela,
Venitanud käsivarta,
Nikastanud niuetesta,
Käänatanud jalakanda,
Ei siis murra munakene,
Kääna kaela kanakene
Täna kõps′tes karatessa."
Nõnda laulu lõksatelles
Kargas vanaeidekene
Kõrgelt alla kuristikku,
Sinna, kuhu sinisuitsu
Kolmevaksaline kukkund,
Lapsukene enne langend.
Kange meeste kasvandikud
Eide tantsi imestelles
Neljakesi naeremaie.
Sööma vahel sõnaldasid,
Kuidas neilla käsi käinud
Vahikorral valvamisel,
Kuidas väike vennikene
Keedukatla koristanud,
Siisap selli sirgumaie,
Poisikene paisumaie
Pilkes ligi pilvedeni.
Kalevipoeg pajatama:
"Heitkem, vennad, enne koitu
Puhukeseks puhkamaie,
Kehasida karastama!
Kui saan selga sirutanud,
Pihaluida painutanud,
Siis ehk võtan teista teeda
Õnnekombel hommikulla.
Teie minge oma teele,
Käige, vennad, kodu poole
Naisukesi naljatama,
Lapsukesi lustitama!"
Siisap mehed sirutasid
Tulepaistel puhkamaie,
Leiba luusse laskemaie.
Tulid ligi teised langud,
Teised võõrad vaatamaie,
Murueide tütred noored
Kastekeeril kõpsatelles
Murudelle mängimaie.
"Õekesed, hellakesed!
Lähme lustil kiikumaie
Kasteheina kõrre peale,
Angervaksa varre peale,
Kurekatla põhja peale!
Juba laulsid õhtukuked,
Häälitsesid ehakanad
Vanaisa vainiulta,
Taara tamme oksa pealta.
Mis seal magab muru pealla?
Murul magab neli meesta.
Ehitagem hellad vennad,
Päevapunal poisikesed,
Teeme meestel′ udumütsid,
Kastekeerust kuuekesed.
Õekesed, hellakesed!
Lähme unda õmblemaie,
Nägusida näitamaie:
Koome kujud koidu eella,
Lõksutame lustikirjad
Kalevipoja päheje!
Tehkem tüki tõekirja,
Valekirjad vahedelle,
Petiskirjad piludelle!
Laskem mehel magadessa
Õnneaegu õitseneda,
Kuulda kulla käo kukku,
Hõbedase linnu häälta!
Kas see kägu kukub kurba,
Linnukene laulab leina?
Kurbus jäägu kuusikusse,
Leinamised lepikusse!
Kallis kange mehe poega,
Kui sa lähed teedekäiki,
Surmateeda sõitemaie,
Ehi hobu helme′esse,
Ratsukene rahadesse,
Pane pähe kuldapäitsed,
Pane hõbepannaldesse,
Pane siidipaeladesse;
Seo siidi hobu silmad,
Hõbekarda ratsu kabjad,
Pane lakka punapaela,
Tukakene taalerisse,
Saba seo sa sametisse!
Kalevipoeg, poisikene,
Tahad minna taevateeda,
Ära tähissa tukista,
Ära kuule komistele,
Ära puutu päikesesse!
Jäta päike paistemaie,
Kuu kuma andemaie,
Tähed teeda näitamaie!
Kalevipoeg, poisikene!
Tahad minna põrguteeda,
Ära hukka põrgu uksi,
Värista põrgu väravaid!
Jäta seisma põrgu seinad,
Jäta uksed hukkamata,
Väravad väristamata,
Seinad paigal′ seisemaie!
Lähed sõtta sõitemaie,
Vaenuteeda veeremaie;
Jäta nõdrad nottimata,
Poisikesed puutumata,
Laste isad langemata!
Siis ei leski leinamaie,
Piiga silmi pisaraisse,
Vaeseidlapsi valu sisse."
Laulis lindu lepikusta,
Kukkus kägu kuusikusta,
Haldjatütar haavikusta,
Kõõruteli kodukana.
Murueide tütred noored
Lustipidu lõpetama;
Kargasivad kõrre pealta,
Angervaksa varre pealta,
Kurekatla põhja pealta
Kohkel koju minemaie;
Juba eite tõstis häälta,
Juba kuri kutsumassa:
"Tulge, piigad peenikesed!
Tulge tööda toimetama,
Siidisida sidumaie,
Punapaelu punumaie,
Juba laulsid Looja kuked,
Laulsid Uku ukse pealta,
Vanaisa väravalta.
Õekesed, hellakesed!
Käigem kiiresti koduje;
Otsas meie õnneaasta,
Lõpetatud lustipidu!"

Source Colophon

Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald, Kalevipoeg: Eesti rahva ennemuistne jutt (Tartu: Gelehrte Estnische Gesellschaft, 1857-1861), Canto XVII. Source text from Project Gutenberg eBook #25062, in the public domain. The text preserves Kreutzwald's 19th-century literary Estonian orthography.

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