Lyric Songs from the Eisen Collection

"I sing, why should I not sing, I am from a singer's line"

These ten lyric songs are drawn from Sections II (Laul — Song) and III (Kodu ja voorsil — Home and Abroad) of M.J. Eisen's Eesti rahwalaulud (Estonian Folk Songs, 1919). Where the narrative ballads tell stories, these songs turn inward: they celebrate the singer's voice, mourn distance from home, and praise the village. The Section II songs are meta-poetry — songs about singing itself, about where song comes from and what it can do. The Section III songs are songs of place — the sweetness of home, the ache of separation, the memory of childhood.

Songs from the Burbot's Mouth

Lood votsin lutsu suusta

Why are you, dear ones, so sad,
Dear ones sad, poor ones silent,
Geese living so badly?
Are your parents harsh,
Your bread-givers scolding,
Your spouses quarrelsome,
Your share-givers anxious?

I do not know how to be dull,
Nor care to stand in anger,
I am not from the dumb one's room,
Nor from between the silent ones,
Nor from the tongueless ones' midst.
The pig is dumb, the sheep is silent,
The pig from the dumb one's room,
The sheep from between the silent ones,
The tongueless from their midst.
I am from the singer's room,
From the poet's floor.
My songs I took from the burbot's mouth,
From behind the pike's teeth.
There I became a child-singer,
There I became a word-arranger.
I was at a wedding with my mother,
I was at a wedding with my father,
At a feast with my elder.
I drank from the singer's hand,
From the piper's goblet,
From the wedding-women's tankards.
I did not study in Harju,
Nor take tunes from Viru,
In Harju my sisters studied,
In Viru my brother's wives took tunes!

When I Begin to Sing

Kui mina hakkan laulamaie

When I begin to sing,
To sing, to let loose,
Then the parish stops to listen,
The district stops to hear,
The village goodwife listens,
The steward's wife smiles,
Seven lords stand still:
"Listen, where a golden bird calls,
Listen, where a grove-swan sings!"

That is no golden bird calling,
Nor a grove-swan singing,
That is a poor little child,
A forsaken little wet one.

When I begin to sing,
To sing, to let loose,
To roll the Viru tune,
To spin the Courland thread:
I sing the land into sea,
I sing the sea into land,
The sea's edges into hayfields,
The sea's shores into pastures,
The sea's bottom into farmland,
The sea's rushes into barley,
The sea's meadows into rye,
The sea's sands into malt,
The sea's stones into churches.

Why do I, a child, sing so much,
A little one, pipe so much?
I had a dear mother,
A honey-berry mama,
She carried me in her apron to the field,
By her hem to the hayfield,
She set me on the field's border,
On the wide ditch's edge.
A swing of mosquito-shinbones,
And of a bear's neck-bones,
Of a reindeer's hip-bones,
Pillows beneath of partridge pattern,
Blankets above of grouse pattern.

A magpie was the watcher,
A wagtail was the rocker,
A gust of wind the lullabyer,
A titmouse was the servant,
A trilling lark the singer.
There I, a child, learned songs,
A weak one, took up tunes,
Therefore I, a child, sing so much,
A little one, pipe so much!

I Sing

Mina laulan

I sing, why should I not sing,
I am from a singer's line,
Father a singer, mother a singer,
Both sisters singers,
A singer the youngest brother's wife.

I sing, why should I not sing,
I sing and the forest cracks,
I strike up and the forest gleams,
Where my voice is heard,
There the forest breaks,
The treetops of the grove fall down,
The tall trees lay in stacks,
The logs drive themselves to piles,
Great cord-stacks stand upright
Without rope or men,
Without axe-blades,
Without copper-handled hatchets.

I sing, why should I not sing,
My mouth cannot be held by reins,
Held by reins, bound by ropes.
I sing the rope-twists apart,
I unravel the reins to their end,
I sing the clouds asunder,
The heavens dancing behind,
The sunset striving before.
Heaven dances with its thalers,
The sunset plays with its beads,
Heaven has thalers at its neck,
Heaven's ceiling has pearls at its neck,
The dawn has cups at its neck.

I sing, why should I not sing,
I sing up a barn,
Behind the barn a stable,
Inside the stable a rack,
In the rack a dappled stallion,
On the stallion a saddle,
In the saddle a lord's boy,
On the boy a hat,
On the hat a golden crown,
On the crown a weaver,
For the weaver a golden sword,
For the sword a maker,
For the maker a second half.

I sing, why should I not sing,
I sing from my song a horse,
Its head at the tip of hazelnut,
Its eyes from the stars of heaven,
Its ears from the birch-leaves,
Its body from meadow-hay,
Its legs below from harrows,
Its shoes from willow-withe.
Then I go riding in Finland,
The bridge of Finland clicks and clacks,
The base-logs thunder back.

The Village Said: Cuckoo

Kula utles kukku kukku

The village said to me: cuckoo, cuckoo!
The village children: sing, sing!
How shall I cuckoo, a sorrowful bird,
Or what shall I sing, a wretched child!
I left at home a mouthful of feathers,
On the table my song-leaves,
On the beam my singing-blanket,
In the chest-cupboard my tongue's jingle!

Young men, dear brothers,
Put the steeds in harness,
The greys in silver-beads,
The hoof-eyes in rings,
The ears in bear-skins,
The roans in ruble-pieces,
Ride on horseback home,
Drive the greys beneath the yard,
Bring me a mouthful of feathers,
Song-leaves from the table,
The singing-blanket from the beam,
The tongue's jingle from the chest-cupboard,
Then I shall sing in a bird's tune,
I shall sound like a grouse,
I shall speak like a duck,
I shall call like a goose,
I shall cuckoo in golden cuckoo-tones,
Then I shall speak in the jay's tongue!

Rich Godfather

Rikas ristiisa

I had a rich godfather,
An even richer godmother,
She took me to Riga to be christened,
To Tallinn to be named.
She gave gold for my teeth,
An old thaler for my light.
The gold stuck in my throat,
The old thaler quick in my belly,
Then I got a golden throat,
A silver voice,
It used to ring in the old days
Like the Swedish reed-pipe,
Tallinn's very best trumpet,
It hid the sound of the pipe,
It drowned the kantele's ring,
It pressed the horn into the ashes.

I praise the rich godfather,
I praise the rich godmother,
Who took me to Riga to be christened,
To Tallinn to be named.
Then the city bells rang,
The Toompea bells counted the hour,
Oleviste struck ale-rounds,
Niguliste struck nick-nack,
As that child was christened,
As the weak one's name was asked.

Where Flew Our Bird?

Kuhu lendas meie lindu?

Once a bird sang for me,
Sang for me, sang for others,
Sang for the whole village.

Where has our bird flown,
Where has the golden-breast gone?
It no longer begins the morning,
Nor sends the evening off with beauty,
With merry songs,
With the most beautiful ring of voices?
Only the pines murmur,
Only the spruces sigh with lament
On those home-places,
On the bird's singing-ground!

Where Is the Dear One's Home?

Kus on kullalla kodugi?

Where is home for the dear one,
And the beloved's dwelling-place,
And the darling's resting-place,
And the sweet one's farmstead?
There is home for the dear one,
And the beloved's dwelling-place,
And the darling's resting-place,
And the sweet one's farmstead,
Where the spruces are gleaming,
Where the alders stand green,
Where the young aspens are greening,
Where the white birches are echoing.
There is home for the dear one,
And the beloved's dwelling-place,
And the darling's resting-place,
And the sweet one's farmstead.

In Praise of Home

Kodu kiitus

Oh my golden home,
My father's beautiful place,
My mother's better ground,
My dearer foster-place!

Here the masters of the house are lords,
The mistresses are like ladies,
The farmhands are like masters,
The matrons are farmhands' wives,
The boys are like shop-boys,
The girls are like maidens,
The children grow up well,
The daughters rise up earnest.
This is the village that is ours:
Below are meadows, above are fields,
Below are meadows to cut for hay,
Above are fields to grow bread.
In the middle the village is of broadcloth,
The village smells of caraway,
The village fields of water-trefoil,
The village rooms of bird-cherry,
The village woodpiles of rowan,
The lanes of gooseberry,
The cart-tracks of juniper,
The yards with gentle fragrances.
When you ride through the village,
The stone lane rings,
Through the new streets,
Through the copper gate,
Through the oaken lane,
The beaded horse gleams,
The silver harness crackles,
The lane begins to tremble,
The oaken road to shake.

I praise my own village,
I honour my own place!
This is the village that is ours,
On the stone like a church,
On the stump like a chapel,
On the hill like a fair!
It is but a stone's throw from the city,
A step behind Tallinn,
So that the linen-ship does not stir,
The port-ship does not miss,
The broadcloth-ship does not lack,
The tobacco-ship does not come.
It is but a stone's throw from the city,
A step behind Tallinn,
So that the night-bells do not call,
Nor the day-bells sound,
Nor the hour-bells tick,
The suburb dogs do not bark,
There are no market-streets,
Nor any Viru gates,
Nor any Toompea markets.

There it is beautiful to live,
There it is lovely to grow:
Beneath the yard are ale-streams,
At the gate are spirit-streams,
Mead-streams toward the manor,
The marsh shimmers all around us,
The hill-knolls bloom proudly,
The herds taste the sweet grass.

When?

Millal?

When shall we come together,
Dear ones, to live together,
Dear ones, to gather as one?
When, friends, shall we reach there,
Where the hawk has made a house,
The water has rolled the logs,
The rain has mossed the walls,
The dew has stacked the roof,
The fog has set new doors,
The steam has given windows,
The dust has brought in chairs?
Here between us are the heathlands,
White birches echoing,
Straight alders greening,
Grey aspens leafing,
Fine spruces in the middle,
Junipers between.

My dear little brother,
Sharpen the axe, whet the sword,
Make the knife keen,
Cut away the heathlands between us,
Clear the birches from the middle,
Fell the alders from nearby,
Wipe away the spruce-grove from its place,
The junipers from between.

So that we, dear ones, come together,
Dear ones together, dear ones as one,
Dear ones together to the hayfield,
Dear ones together to the copse,
Dear ones to live together,
Dear ones to gather as one:
There a new house stands ready,
There inside are silken chairs!

Oh That Former Life

Oh seda endist eluda

Oh that former life,
That precious childhood!
When we grew up at home,
When we sat in father's room,
When we turned among the brothers,
In the midst of the sisters.
Mother did not strike me,
Father did not strike me,
Dear brother did not whip me.
A straw was the brother's switch,
A tow-distaff was father's rod,
A wool-wand was mother's birch.
I was like a beautiful bean,
I walked as neatly as a pine-cone,
As proudly as a bean-blossom,
As brightly as a berry-stem,
As straight as a flax-seed.
I rolled like an egg on the grass,
I turned like a ball on the fallow,
I did not harm the grass,
The ball did not harm the fallow,
The apple did not harm the yard;
I lay down to sleep without worry,
Slumbered without a care,
I hung my worry on the perch,
My sorrow on the dark beam,
My suffering on the old hook!

Were there not many of us once,
Many of us, a whole flock,
As many as a herd of horses,
Stretched out like a herd of cattle,
A raft of scattered children:
Where has our number gone,
Where has our flock come to?
We were taken to Russia,
We were sent to Germany.

Colophon

Good Works Translation from Estonian by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Source text: M.J. Eisen, Eesti rahwalaulud (Estonian Folk Songs), Tallinn, 1919. Public domain (Project Gutenberg #62471). Scribe: Regi, Uralic Alpha Translator.

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Source Text: Eesti rahwalaulud

Estonian source text from M.J. Eisen, Eesti rahwalaulud (1919). Public domain.

Lood votsin lutsu suusta

Lood võtsin lutsu suusta.

Miks olete kullad, kurbad,
Kullad kurbad, vaesed vaiksed,

Haned halvasti elate?
Kas teil valjud on vanemad,
Nurelikud leivaisad,
Tõrelilvud teised pooled.
Hoolikad osa jagajad?

Ei nia tunne olla tuima,
Ega viitsi vihas seista,
Ma pole tummade toasta,
Ega vaikiste vahelta,
Keeletute keskeelta.
Siga tumma, lammas vaikne,
Siga tummade toasta,
Lammas vaikiste vahelta,
Keeletuma keskeelta.
Ma olen lauliku toastii.
Luuletaja põr-andulta.
Lood ma võtsin lutsu suusta.
Hangi hammaste tagaje.
Sealt sain lapsi laulajaksi,
Sealt sain sõnaseadijaksi.
Ma olin pulmas eide kaasas,
Ja olin pulmas taadi kaasas,
Vsrrudel vanema kaasas.
Ma jõin laiilaja kaesta.
Pillipuhuja peekerista.
Kaasanaiste kannudesta.
Ei olnud Harjus õppimassa.
Virust viisi võttemassa,.
Harjus õppisid õeksed.
Virus viisi venna naisca !

Kui mina hakkan laulamaie

Kui mina hakkan lauiamaie.

Kui mina hakkan lauiamaie,
Lauiamaie, laskemaie,

1Ü7

Siis jääb valda vaatamaie,
Kihelkonda kuulamafe.
Külakuhjas kuulatama,
Kupja naine naeratama,
Seitse herrat seisatama :
Kuule, kus kukkub kuldalindu.
Kuule, kus laulab laaneluike!

Ei see kukku kuldalindu,
Ega see laula laaneluike.
See on vaene lapsukene,
Maha jäJinud märjukene.

Kui mina hakkan laulemaie,
Laulamaie, laskemale.
Viru viisi veeretama,
Kura koeda keerutama :
Ma laulan maa mereksi,
Ma laulan mere maaksi,
Mere ääred heinamaaks!,
Mere kaldad karjamaaks!,
Mere põhja põllumaaks!,
Mere osjad odradeksi.
Mere luhad rukkideksi.
Mere liivad linnasteks!,
Mere kivid kirikuteks.

Miks ma lapsi laulan palju,
Pisukene. pillan palju?
Oli mul hella eidekene.
Mesimarja memmekene,
Viis mind põllega põllule,
Hännaga mind heinamaale,
Pani põllu peenartele,
Laia kraavi kaldaale.
Kiik oli sääse, sääreluista,
Ja oli karu kaelaluista,
Põhjapõdra põheluista.
Padjad alla pardi kirja,
Tekid pealla tedre kirja.

IQH

Harakas oli hoidijaksi,
Kiitsakas oli kiigutajaks,
Tuulehoogu tudutajaks,
Tihane oli teenijaks!,
Lõõriv lõo laulajaksi.
Sealt mina lapsi laulud õpsin,
Väetikene viisid võtsin.
Sest mina lapsi laulan palju,
Pisikene pillai? palju !

Mina laulan

Mitia laulan.

Mina laulan, miks ei laula,
Mina lauliku soosta,
Isa laulik, rma laulik.
Laulikud õed mõlemad.
Laulik viimne venna naine.

Mina laulan, miks ei laula,
Mina laulan, laksub metsa,
Heidan keelta, helgib metsa,
Kus minu häälta kuuldanekse,
Sealla metsa murdunekse,
Laane ladvad maha langvad,
Puud pikad pinusse laevad,
Halud riitaje ajavad.
Süllad suured seisvad püsti
Ilma nöörita mehita,
Ilma kirve teradeta,
Vaskivarsi tapperita.

Mina laulan, mik.^ ei laula.
Ei mind suuda ohjad hoida,
Ohjad hoida, köied köita.
Katki laulan köie keerud,
Ohjad otsani arutan,

lõi)

Pilved laulan pilla palla,
Taeva takka tantsimaie,
Eha eesta heitlemaie.
Taevas tantsib taaderida,
Eha mängib helmetega.
Taeval sel on taadrid kaelas,
Taeva lael on pärlid kaelas,
Koidul sel on kupud kaelas.

Mina laulan, miks ei laula,
Mina laulan laudakese,
Lauda taha tallikese,
Talli sisse latteriku,
Latri sisse laugu täku.
Laugu täkule sadula,
Sadulasse saksa poisi.
Saksa poisile kübara,
Kübarale kuldakrooni;
Kuldakroonile kuduja.
Kudujale kuldamõõkä,
Kuldamõõgale tegija,
Tegijale teise poole.

Mina laulan, miks ei laula,
M^a laulan laulusta hobuse.
Pea tal otsa pähkelista,
Silmad taevatähtedestä.
Kõrvad kobpu lehtedesta.
Keha Irasteheinadesta,
Jalad alla harkidestaj
Rauad vitsa laagudesta.
Siis lähen Soome sõitcmaie,
Soome silda niksub, naksub,
Aliispalgid vasta paukvad.

Kula utles kukku kukku

Küla ütles: ,,kukku, kukku.^

Küla mul ütles : kukku, kukku !
Küla lapsed : laula, laula !
Kudas ma kukkun kurba lindu,
Või mis laulan halba lapsi !
Mul jäi koju suude sulgi,
Laua peale laululehti.
Parsile pajatisvaipa, •
Kirstu kappi kcelckõlksu !
Noored mehed, hellad vennad,
Pange ratsud .rakkeesse,
Hallid hõbehelmetesse,
Sõrasilmad sõrmusesse,
Kõrvid karunahkadesse,
Ruunad rublatükkidesse,
Sõitke ratsulla koduje,
Aage hallid alla õue.
Tooge mulle suude sulge,
Laua pealta laululehti,
Parsilta pajatisvaipa.
Kirstu kapist keelekõlksu,
Siis mina laulan linnu viisi,
Häälta teen ma tedre viisi.
Pajatan ma pardi viisi,
Häälitsen hanede viisi,
Kukkun kulda käo keeli,
Siis ma räägin räägu keeli !

Rikas ristiisa

Rikas ristiisa.

Mul oli rikas ristiisa.
Veelgi rikkam ristiema,
Viis mind Riiga ristimaie.

Tallinna nime panema,
Andis kulla hambaaksi,
Vana taadri valguseks!.
Mul jäi kulda kobe kurku,
Vana taader varsti vatsa,
Siis sain kuldse kurgukese,
Hõbedase häälekese,
Küll see büüdis ennemuiste
Kui see Rootsi roogupilli,
Tallinna paras pasuna,
Ära peitis pilli hääle,
Kandlegi kuma kaotas, *
Toru tuhkaje vaotas.

Kiidan rikast ristiisa.
Kiidan rikast ristiema,
Kes viis Riiga ristimaie,
Tallinna nime panema.
Seni hüüdsid linnakellad,
Tundi loivad Toompea kellad,
Olevist lõi õlle -trolle,
Nigulist lõi niksa-naksa,
Kui sfda lasta ristitati,
Nõrgal nime nõuetati.

Kuhu lendas meie lindu?

Laulis enne lindu mulle.
Laulis mulle, laulis muile.
Laulis kõigele külale.

Kuhu lendas meie lindu,
Kuhu jõudis kuldarinda?
Kui ei homikut alusta.
Õhtut .saada ei iluga,
Lõbusate lauludega.,

Häälte kaunima kõlaga?
Üksi männad mühisevad,
Kaebust kuusfd kohisevad
Nendel kodukohtadella,
Linnu laulu asem<'lla !

Kus on kullalla kodugi?

Kus on kullalla kodugi
.Ja hellal eluaseke
Ja marjal magadispaika
•la taimel talutoake?
Seal on kullalla kodugi
Ja hellal eluaseke
Ja marjal magadispaika
Ja taimel talutoake.
Kus need kuused kumavad,
Lepad sirgeed sinavad,
Haabad noored haljendavad,
Kased valgeed kajavad.
Seal on kullalla kodugi
Ja hellal eluaseke
Ja marjal magadispaika
•la taimel talutoake.

Kodu kiitus

Kodu kiitus.

Oh mu kullasta kõduda,
Jlusat isa aseda.
Ema paika paremada,
Kasupaika kallimada !

Siinap peremehed herrad, •
Perenaised kui need prouad,
Sulased nagu isandad,
Emandad sulaste naised,
Poisid kui need poepoisid,
Tüdrukud kui neitsikfsed,
Lapsed kasvavad ladusad,
Tütred tõusevad tõsised.
Seep on küla, mis on meilla :
All on aasad, peal on põllud,
All on aasad heina lüüa
Peal on põllud leiba süüa.
Keskel on küla kalevi.
Küla lehkab köömelilla.
Küla väljad veevelilla,
Küla toad tomingalla,
Küla pinud pihlakalla,
Tänavad tikerberilla,
Ajavitsad virdeella.
Õued õrna lõhnadella.
Kui sõidad läbi külada,
Paugub paasine tänava,
Läbi uute uulitsate,
Läbi vaskise värava.
Läbi tammise tänava
Helgib helmine hobune,
Raksuvad rahased rangid,
Viira ' hakkab värisema,
Tammest tänav tärisema.

Ma kiidan oma külada,
Austan oma aseda !
Seep on küla, mis on meilla,
Kivi pealla kui kiriku.
Kännu pealla kui kabeli,
Mäe pf^alla kui see mängi !
See võrs linnasta alama.
See võrs Tallinnast tagana,
Et ei liigu lindi laeva,

Et ei puudu poordi laeva,
Ei l^alla kalevi laeva
Ei tule tubaka laeva.
See võrs linnasta alama,
See võrs Tallinnast tagana,
Et ei hüüa öösed kellad
Ega paugu päised kellad,
Ega tuksu tunnikellad.
Ei haugu alevirakid.
Ei ole turu tänavida
Ega ole Viru väravida.
Ega ole Toompea turusida.

Millal?

Millal meie ühte saame,
Hellad, ühteje elama,
Ifüllad, kokku kukkumaie ?
Millal, sõbrad, sinna saame,
Kus on kulli teinud toa,
Vesi palgid veeretanud.
Sadu seinad sammeldanud,
Kaste katuse ladunud,
Udu pannud uued uksed,
Auru annud aknad ette,
Tolmu toonud toolid sisse?
Siin on aavikud vahella.

Kased valgeed kajavad,
Lepad sirgeed sinavad,
Haabad hallid haljendavad.
Kenad kuused keskeella,
Kadakad kahe vahella.

Minu hella vennakene,
Jhu kirves, häili mõõka,
Tee aga veitsi teravaksi,
Raiu aavikud vahelta,
Kased keskelta kaota.
Lõpeta lepad ligidalt.
Kuusik kustuta kohalta,
Kadakad kahe vahelta.

Et me hellad saame ühte,
Hellad ühte, kullad kokku.
Hellad ühte heinamaale,
Kullad ühte koppelisse,
Hellad ühteje elama.
Kullad kokku kukkumaie :
Seal on valmis uusi tuba,
Seal on seessa siiditoolid !

Oh seda endist eluda

Oh seda endist eluda.

Oh sa endista eluda,
Kallist kasupõlvekesta.
Kui me kasvime kodussa,
Istsime isa toassa,
Yeersime vclle vahella,
Õekeste keskeella.
Ei mind täidind eidel lüüa.
Ei mind täidind taadil lüüa,
Hellal vennal vemmeldada.
Õlekõrs oli venna vemmal,

Takukoonal taadirooRa,
Villasalka eide vitsa.
Olin kui uba ilusa.
Käisin kui käbi kenasti,
Oaõisi uhkeesti,
Marjavarsi valgeesti,
Linaseeme sirgeesti.
Veersin kui muna murule,
Keersin kui kera kesale,
Ei mina rikkund muruda,
Ei kera rikkund kesada.
Öun ei rikkund õuekesta;
Heitsin mureta magama,
Ilma hooldeta tuduma,
Heitsin hoole õrre peale,
Mure musta parre peale,
Vaeva vana varna otsa !

Eks meid enne olnud hulka,
Olnud hulka, saanud salka.
Olnud kui hobuste hulka.
Veninud kui veiste karja;
Lagunenud lapse parve:
Kus on jäänud meie hulka.
Kus on saanud meie salka?
Meid on viidud Venemaale,
Saadetud meid Saksamaale.

Source Colophon

Estonian source text from: M.J. Eisen, Eesti rahwalaulud, Tallinn, 1919. Public domain (Project Gutenberg #62471).

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