from Eesti rahwalaulud, compiled by M.J. Eisen (1919)

The songs presented here are drawn from two sections of M.J. Eisen's great 1919 anthology of Estonian folk poetry. The first — the Kalmuneid, or Cemetery Song — is one of the longest and most narratively complex songs in the entire collection. It tells of Peeter, a small man of Kalev's line, who boasts that when his oats grow tall he will court a wife from the graveyard. He breaks his word, marrying a rich girl from Riga instead — but on the homeward journey, his sleigh freezes at the cemetery crossroads. The Tooni-dwellers emerge and demand payment. Five times Peeter offers escalating ransoms: cloth, livestock, money, groomsmen, his home and family. Each time the dead refuse. Only when he surrenders his bride does the sleigh break free — and beneath the wedding-cover he finds a corpse. The song ends with his mother's lament and Peeter's transformation: "Set your son as a star in the sky / Set the bride as sand in the sea." Jakob Hurt's word-explanations appended to the original are noted in the colophon.

The eight shorter songs that follow are from Section V of Eisen's collection: Mure ja lein (Sorrow and Mourning). They form a complete cycle of grief — the general lament, the five sorrows of the world, the widow's complaint, the contrast between the rich daughter and the orphan, the orphan's funeral procession, the fatherless child, the serf child, and the final solitary voice weeping to the flowers. These are among the purest expressions of the Estonian regilaul (alliterative song) tradition: short, rhythmic, parallel in structure, devastating in their simplicity. Where a fatherless son weeps, a well is dug; where a motherless daughter weeps, a spring rises; where a widow weeps, a river flows.

Eisen's collection has never been translated into English. These translations are independently derived from the Estonian source text. The source is the archive.org digitization (identifier: eestirahwalaulud00eiseuoft). Nine mythological songs from Section I of the same collection are archived separately (see Mythological Folk Songs from the Eisen Collection).

I. The Cemetery Song

Kalmuneid — The Cemetery Song (Peeter's Song)

Peeter the small, a man of low stature,
A boy of Kalev's line.
He cleared a circle, he hoed a circle,
He plowed a circle, he sowed his oats.
He sowed barley by the church road,
Oats by the cemetery lane.
As he plowed, so he pondered,
As he sowed, so he spoke:
"Grow, grow, little oat,
Rise up, little barley!
O graveyard, make the oats grow,
O church, make the barley rise!
When my fine oats have grown,
Fine oats, splendid barley,
I shall court a wife from the graveyard,
I shall name a maiden from the sand."

The fine oats grew.
The splendid barley grew.
Peeter, the small boy,
A little man of Kalev's line,
He brought his flax to soak,
Brought his brewing grain to the stream.
He set about courting a wife,
Set about finding a bride.
O you brother of Viru's land,
You motherborn half-brother!
It was not right, what he said,
It was not true, what he promised —
He did not court a wife from the grave,
He did not name a maiden from the sand.

Peeter, the small boy,
A little man of Kalev's line —
He dressed himself handsomely,
Pulled on a blue shirt,
Put a trimmed hat on his head,
Girded a town-banner sash at his waist,
Set German boots on his feet;
So he went to court a bride,
Went seeking a wife.
He courted a rich man's daughter from Riga,
He took a Riga councillor's child.

When Peeter arrived at last
At the rich Riga councillor's —
Gold was the roof upon the house,
Silver the garden fence,
Of steel the gateposts.
He drove the horse to the green,
Tied it beneath the back window,
Himself went inside to greet them,
To greet them, to salute them:
"Greetings, greetings, maiden's mother,
Maiden's mother, maiden's father,
Greetings to the five brothers —

Have you maidens at home,
Silk-aproned ones on the floor,
Gold-crowned ones in the chamber?
Might I get a wife from here,
A bride to my liking?"

The maiden's dear mother,
The maiden's sweet mama,
She spoke from her mind,
From her own mind's counsel:
"We have a maiden at home,
A silk-aproned one on the floor,
A gold-crowned one in the chamber,
A pearl-necked one in the house.
You shall have a wife from here,
You shall have a pleasing bride."

The maiden stepped toward the storehouse,
Across the green with graceful step,
Knitting golden gloves,
Casting thread of silver.

Peeter was fed in the room,
Fed and given drink.
He was nourished with honey-mead,
Received with wax-sweet drink —
The maiden was adorned in the storehouse,
Made beautiful in the chamber.

When the maiden was made ready,
The cuckoo adorned,
The maiden's dear mother,
The maiden's sweet mama,
She herself spoke from her mind,
From her own mind's counsel:
"Bridegroom, dear boy,
Drive the horse to the storehouse,
Turn it to the cellar door."
Peeter heard the command at once.
He drove the horse to the storehouse,
Turned it to the cellar door.

The maiden stepped out from the storehouse,
Hurried from the chamber,
More colorful than the woodpecker,
More lovely than a forest bird.
The maiden was sent to the sleigh,
She was placed beside the bridegroom.
He was given a bagful of gold,
A boxful of precious things.

Peeter received his bride,
Arranged the dowry in the sleigh,
He stood at the sleigh's edge,
Set his foot on the runner —
The sleigh rail cracked,
The bow-nail rattled.
Peeter spoke from his mind,
Spoke from his mind's counsel:
"God knows, dear God,
Mary knows, humble one!
Perhaps weeping lies ahead of me,
Perhaps tears roll before me —
Why did my bow-nail rattle,
Why did my sleigh rail crack?"

He set off homeward,
Rolling toward his brothers.
He had good horses,
Fine oat-fed ones,
They went up the hill at play,
Bounding along the slopes.
He came upon the graveyard,
He came to the place of the dead,
Drew near the sandy hills,
Upon the lands of the departed —
His sleigh stopped still,
The back-board halted.
The sleigh struck against a stone,
The side-runner caught in juniper,
The cross-runner caught in pine.

Peeter, the small boy,
Dear child of his mother,
He urged, he coaxed,
He urged the willing horse,
He coaxed the fiery steed —
The willing horse would not go,
The fiery steed would not come.
He could not free the sleigh from standing,
The back-board from halting,
He could not free the sleigh from the stone,
The side-runner from juniper,
The cross-runner from pine.

The bride began to ask,
The young wife began to question:
"Why do you drag through the stones,
Push through the stumps?
Ride the bridged road,
Take the boarded road.
O living one, o dead one,
Come, free the sleigh from the stone,
The side-runner from the stumps,
The cross-runner from the pines."

Out came the Tooni-dwellers,
The grave-dwellers answered back,
Tooni's daughters scolded:
"Peeter, you small boy,
Proud little bridegroom!
What you said was not right,
What you promised was not true.
When you were plowing your land,
Breaking your bread-land,
As you plowed, so you pondered,
As you sowed, so you spoke:
'Grow, grow, little oat,
Rise up, little barley!
I shall court a wife from the graveyard,
I shall name a maiden from the sand.'

Peeter, you small boy,
Proud little bridegroom!
Give us what you'll give,
Promise, boy, what you'll promise."

Peeter, the small boy,
The proud little bridegroom,
He promised a bundle of gloves,
Pledged a layer of linens,
A grave-full of shirts,
Pledged a chest of colorful things,
A bushel of white things.
He urged, he coaxed,
He urged the willing horse,
He coaxed the fiery steed —
The willing horse would not go,
The fiery steed would not come,
He could not free the sleigh from standing,
The back-board from halting.

Again came the Tooni-dwellers,
Tooni's daughters scolded:
"Peeter, you small boy,
Proud little bridegroom!
Give us what you'll give,
Promise, boy, what you'll promise."

Peeter, the small boy,
Dear child of his mother,
He promised his father's gelding,
His brother's lively stallion,
Promised the herd from its growing,
The field's harvest from its stretching.
He urged, he coaxed,
He urged the willing horse,
He coaxed the fiery steed —
The willing horse would not go,
The fiery steed would not come,
He could not free the sleigh from standing,
The back-board from halting.

Again came the Tooni-dwellers,
Tooni's daughters scolded:
"Peeter, you small boy,
Proud little bridegroom!
Give us what you'll give,
Promise, boy, what you'll promise."

Peeter, the small boy,
Dear child of his mother,
He promised money from his purse,
Trade-money from his pocket,
Promised a bushel of old coins,
A bushel-measure of clinking ones,
Promised gold by the bagful,
Precious things by the boxful.
He urged, he coaxed,
He urged the willing horse,
He coaxed the fiery steed —
The willing horse would not go,
The fiery steed would not come,
He could not free the sleigh from standing,
The back-board from halting.

Again came the Tooni-dwellers,
Tooni's daughters scolded:
"Peeter, you small boy,
Proud little bridegroom!
Give us what you'll give,
Promise, boy, what you'll promise."

Peeter, the small boy,
Dear child of his mother,
He promised a hundred groomsmen,
And two attendants besides.
He urged, he coaxed,
He urged the willing horse,
He coaxed the fiery steed —
The willing horse would not go,
The fiery steed would not come,
He could not free the sleigh from standing,
The back-board from halting.

Again came the Tooni-dwellers,
The grave-dwellers drew near.
Before them Mana's brides,
Behind them Tooni's daughters,
Near them the sand's aunts —
They all spoke from the grave,
They spoke from the sand:
"Give us what you'll give,
Promise, boy, what you'll promise."

Peeter, that boy,
Dear child of his mother!
He had a high house,
A fine dwelling.
He promised his high house,
His fine dwelling.
He promised his father, promised his mother,
His very last brothers.
He urged, he coaxed,
He urged the willing horse,
He coaxed the fiery steed —
The willing horse would not go,
The fiery steed would not come,
He could not free the sleigh from standing,
The back-board from halting,
He could not free the sleigh from the stone,
The side-runner from juniper,
The cross-runner from pine.

Peeter, the small boy,
Kalev's bridegroom —
He rattled the sword at his hip,
He shook the neck-iron,
He wanted to cut the horse's head,
To destroy the good horse.
From the grave they called back,
From the sand they spoke:

"Do not cut the horse's head,
Do not destroy the good horse!
Before the sleigh is freed from standing,
Before the sleigh rises from the stone —
Give up the most beloved,
The dearest from both hands,
Give the young bride to the keeping,
The cuckoo to the cover's keeping."

Peeter, that boy,
Dear child of his mother!
He struck hand against hand,
One hand against the other,
He sighed to his kinfolk,
He grieved to the others:
"What now to do, where to go?"
He gave his dear one to the cover's keeping,
His little bird to the linen's keeping,
He promised the young bride to the keeping,
The cuckoo to the cover's keeping.
He urged, he coaxed,
He urged the willing horse,
He coaxed the fiery steed —

Now the willing horse went,
Now the fiery steed came,
The sleigh was freed from standing,
The sleigh rose from the stone.

Peeter looked under the cover,
He stirred the linen cloth —
He found a corpse in the sleigh,
A grave-dweller under the cover.
Peeter's hair stood on end,
Peeter's face turned pale.
"How shall I bring the corpse home,
Bring the dead one into the house?"
All the golden kin grew sad,
Silent fell the hundred groomsmen,
The dust-beaters stood wondering.

Sadly they drove along the road,
In thought across the berry-land.

They reached the homestead,
Drew near the dwelling-town,
The good horse whinnied,
The fiery steed there stamped.
The mother went out to look,
The bearer went out to see.
She saw Peeter coming,
At the edge of the field.
She called to the children in the yard,
She said to the little ones:
"Run, children, let down the bars,
Let down the bars, swing the gate!
They bring grandmother a bride,
Mother a helper,
They bring a quick one to run errands,
An obedient one for these fingers —
Home comes the honor-skirt,
The honor-skirt, the love-headcloth."

When Peeter had come home,
Arrived at his own family,
He drove the horses to the green,
The fiery steeds before the house —
The mother went to look,
The bearer went to see:
Will the young wife be cheerful,
Beautiful to a mother's eyes?
Will she be fit for the buckets,
Careful with the vessels?
Will she be strong at the tub,
A sharp daughter to lead about —
Or is there a stick under the bride,
A cudgel under the cloak,
To be led along the road,
To be shown off before the father-in-law?

The mother looked under the cover,
She put her finger under the cloak —
She found a corpse in the sleigh,
A grave-dweller under the cover.
She struck hand against hand,
One hand against the other,
She herself spoke from her mind,
From her own mind's counsel:
"My son, my boy,
My heart's own berry!
Why is there a corpse in your sleigh,
A grave-dweller under the cover?"

Peeter, the small boy,
Dear child of his mother,
He answered, he spoke in return,
He answered wisely:
"Mama dear, grandmother dear,
Bearer dear, precious one!
The good horses did this,
The fine oat-fed ones did it.
They went up the hill at play,
They flung the young one against a corner,
The cuckoo against a heel —
From that came the corpse in the sleigh,
The grave-dweller under the cover."

The mother spoke from her mind,
From her own mind's counsel:
"My son, my boy,
My heart's own berry!
Why do you deceive, why do you lie?
You do not speak the truth!
The good horses did not do this,
The fine oat-fed ones did not do it.
You did it by your own will,
With foolish thoughts —
You courted a wife from the grave,
You named a maiden from the sand.
Therefore a corpse is in the sleigh,
A grave-dweller under the cover."
Mother warned, father warned,
The middle brother warned,
The young sisters scolded:
"Do not go courting among the dead,
Do not seek a wife from the grave —
From the dead you get no housewife,
From the grave no cattle-keeper."

The mother sat down to weep,
She spoke with a sobbing word:
"My son, my boy,
Gentle-souled little spirit!
Where shall I put you,
Where the dear bride?
The maiden's kin are great,
Great kin, powerful clan —
They will come searching for her,
Soon she will be found missing."

Peeter, the small boy,
Dear child of his mother,
He answered, he spoke in return,
He answered wisely:
"Mama dear, grandmother dear,
Bearer dear, precious one!
Set your son as a star in the sky,
Set the bride as sand in the sea."

The mother spoke through weeping,
She spoke with a sobbing word:
"To whom shall I speak a golden word,
To whom shall I give a loving word?"

"Mother dear, grandmother dear,
Bearer dear, precious one!
When you rise in the morning,
Early before the light,
Fling the door wide open,
Open the doors all the way.
Look at the moon on high,
Look at the stars in the sky —
What is more beautiful than the stars,
More beautiful, more luminous,
That is your beloved son,
Your dear foster-child.
To that one speak a golden word,
To that one give a loving word.

Mother dear, grandmother dear,
Bearer dear, precious one!
When you go early for water,
Go to the seashore —
What sand shimmers the most,
Shimmers the most, gleams the most,
That is your dear bride,
Your quick errand-runner.
To that one speak a golden word,
To that one give a loving word."

The mother sat down to weep,
To grieve upon the green,
A bucket of tears beneath her nose.
She wept a bucketful of tears,
A hillside of weeping,
She wept a stream beneath the door,
A spring beneath the threshold:
"I raised a good son,
I nursed a beautiful son,
I thought help would come,
I thought aid would arrive.
No aid came to the nurse,
No help came to the beloved.
My tears have done their bathing,
The smoke has done its heating.
Had I known this knowing,
Had I understood with my mind to think,
Better I had kept him in the peat-ground,
Better I had swaddled him in the sod.
So long I weep as I live,
So long I wail as I die."

II. Songs of Sorrow and Mourning

Ma vaene mure Mareta — I, Poor Sorrowful Mareta

I, poor sorrowful Mareta,
Little bird of mourning care,
I sit upon the hill of sorrow,
At the rim of care's well,
A cap of sorrow on my head,
An apron of care before me.
The mouth sings, the heart grieves,

Cheeks pour down waves,
Brows drop water,
Eyes roll water;
From the eyes it rolls to the breast,
From the breast it rolls to the knees,
From there down to the ground.
Then a river begins to flow,
The village wells begin to pour,
Then the village cattle can drink,
The cattle of Virumaa can drink
From my poor tears,
From my broad cheek's weeping,
From my golden brow's drops.

Whence has sorrow come to me,
Care swum to the child,
Mourning slid to the daughter,
Grief poured upon the shoulder?
Last year I drank sorrow's cup,
The year before, care's tankard,
This year I ate mourning's bread,
Mourning's bread, grief's cake.

What does my sorrow matter,
The long bearing of care,
The mourning of a little leaf?
Neither my father worries,
Nor my mother worries,
Brothers both care nothing!
Sorrow to me, but nothing else,
Care to me, but no relief,
Grief to me — I have no herd.
I would close my burning eyes,
I would sleep with honeyed mind,
But sorrow will not let me sleep,
Care will not rock me to rest,
A torn mind will not stretch,
A care-mind will not yawn.
Sorrow kindles beneath the gold,
Presses beneath the cloth,
Care burns in the drought,
Mourning flares in the bed.
Were this sorrow others' to know,
Care before others' foreheads,
Grief on others' necks to bear —
But what is known only to me,
Sorrow could be hauled on a black horse,
Rocked in a little basket.

What does my sorrow matter?
I grieve, I break my mind,
I regret, I break my neck,
I crumple my moist hair,
I press down the wax-ones,
I break the golden-colored ones!

Mitu halba? — How Many Sorrows?

How many sorrows in the world?
Five sorrows in the world:
One is a son without a father,
The second a daughter without a mother,
The third sorrow the little serf,
The fourth sorrow the poor child,
The fifth sorrow the widow.

Where a fatherless son weeps,
There a well is dug.
Where a motherless daughter weeps,
There a spring rises.
Where the little serf weeps,
There a pond is made.
Where the poor child weeps,
There a lake remains.
But where the widow weeps,
There a river flows!

Lese kaebus — The Widow's Lament

Oh I, the poor widow,
Widow, bird of mourning,
Weeping-serf, corner-bird,
Pain-serf, bird of sorrow!
Do not push me from the room,
From the room and from before it,
From the gate, from the field,
From the yard, from the fortune-land.
So the poor widow
Is like a field without a fence —
All the sheep crowd in,
The herd presses in,
Seeking the sprouts,
Tasting every green.
So the poor widow
Is like a room without a roof —
All the rains lash down,
All the showers fall upon it.

Oh I, poor bird of sorrow,
Weeping-serf, sighing-bird —
I must feed myself,
Alone extinguish sorrow.
Leaves fly from the alders,
Vanish from the birches,
Descend from the aspens,
Fall from the maples,
Retreat from the oaks,
Whisper from the ashes,
Cones drop from the spruces —
But my fortune does not mend,
Nor my life arise.
The days of sorrow do not lessen,
The days of mourning do not end!

Peretütar ja vaenelaps — The Master's Daughter and the Orphan

The master's daughter, little maiden,
She sits upon the hill of beauty,
Beauty-gloves on her hands,
Beautiful patterns in the gloves.
She eats white bread, pork in fat,
Yet she is blue around the eyes,
Pale behind the ears.
She spins at the spinning all summer days,
She treads the wheel all winter days —
Wool in summer, tow in winter,
In spring the soft flax —
She cannot get a shirt even for a gnat,
A scrap even for a horsefly,
Not a golden cloth for a flea.

Oh, the poor serf child —
She sits upon the hill of sorrow,
Sorrow-gloves on her hands,
Sorrow-patterns in her gloves.
She eats only hogweed from the bushes,
Water-turnip from the alder grove,
Yet with hogweed she is ruddy,
Yet about the eyes she is smooth.
She spins, she spins in spring —
She gets a shirt even for a gnat,
A scrap even for a horsefly,
A golden cloth even for a flea,
Fine cloth for the master.

Vaenelaps — The Orphan Child

I, the parish's poor child,
The little serf at the road's end —
Who bought me from serfdom,
Freed me from the manor's days,
Redeemed me from the snow-storm,
From the snowdrift's grip?
God bought me from serfdom,
Freed me from the manor's days,
Redeemed me from the snow-storm,
From the snowdrift's grip.

Where has the sorrowful one a home
And the wretched one a place?
Where the winds have made a room,
The rain has mossed the walls.

Mother was led to the threshold,
Love was driven to the oven-side.
Mother was led out the door,
Love stepped out the window.
Mother was led along the road,
Love stepped along the garden.
Mother was led to the grave's edge,
Love stepped behind the grave.
As the grave was being dug,
Love stood at the grave's rim.
Mother was lowered into the grave,
Love went under the grave.

Mother dear, gentle one,
You left me in the uncles' care,
You left me in the aunts' keeping.
The uncle does not care at all,
The aunt does not even notice.
Mother dear, gentle one,
You left the world to adorn me,
You left the parish to govern me.
The world adorns me with weeping,
The parish prepares my sorrow.
Where I sit, the seat is wet,
Where I stand, the wall is wet.
There a pond forms,
There a well bends,
There a lake remains.

There the village cattle can drink,
The village foals can play,
The village horses can swim
In my long tears,
In the poor child's eye-water!

Isata emata — Fatherless, Motherless

Oh I, the fatherless child,
Oh I, the motherless child,
The parentless poor child!
I search the world for a father,
I search the world for a mother,
A helper, a world-cradler,
A rescuer upon the world.

From above the Father calls,
From the earth the Measurer speaks:
Do not strike the poor child,
The poor child, the widow.
The poor one weeps even without beating,
The widow even without feeding,
Cries without a blow,
Whines without the rod's touch,
Screams without the cudgel's trial.

I was left alone calling,
A chick crying,
A flaxseed standing.
I have no one to give me grace,
No one to stroke my head.
The wind comes, gives me grace,
The sun strokes my head.
An hour lasts the wind's grace,
A lifetime lasts a mother's grace.

Orjalaps — The Serf Child

Oh I, the poor serf child,
A little berry left behind —
No father to protect me,
No mother to give me grace.
No brother at the field's edge,
No sister greeting me at evening,
No kinsman wishing me well,
No neighbor to make peace.
Into the grave went my mother,
Into the graveyard vanished my father.
My brother fell to war-death,
My sister paled with the plague,
My aunt perished of pestilence,
My uncle by misfortune,
My uncle-in-law died of grief.

The master is very cruel,
The mistress far too harsh,
The master's daughter a fire-fork,
The master's son far worse!
The yard dog has a better lot,
The herding dog an easier feast,
An easier feast, a lighter life
Than the poor serf child,
The unprotected distant one.
Oh I, the fatherless child,
Oh I, the motherless child,
The parentless poor child!
Everyone says of me:
"Beat that one, she is fatherless,
Beat that one, she is motherless,
The parentless poor child —
No acquaintance for support,
No kinsman for help!"

Üksi jäin — I Was Left Alone

I was left alone without a father,
I was left alone without a mother,
I was left alone calling,
A chick crying,
A partridge chick in the bushes,
A cuckoo among the stumps.
I was left alone, an egg on the green,
I was left alone, a ball on the fallow,
I was left alone, an apple in the yard —
The egg does not ruin the green,
The ball does not ruin the fallow,
The apple does not ruin the yard.
The egg is beautiful on the green,
The apple is round in the yard.

Always I am lonely,
Always I am sorrowful,
Many times my mind is sad.
To whom shall I complain, to whom lament,
To whom shall I tell my sad heart,
To whom moan my pain,
To whom roll away my anger?

I complain to the globe-flowers,
I lament to the meadowsweet,
I weep to the young grass —
The globe-flowers wither,
The meadowsweet turns grey,
The young grass stands drooping
At my golden complaining,
At my constant lamenting,
At my straightening, wiping my eyes.

Colophon

These ten songs are drawn from Matthias Johann Eisen's Eesti rahwalaulud (Estonian Folk Songs), published 1919 in Kuressaare and Tallinn. The Kalmuneid (Cemetery Song / Peeter's Song) appears in Section I (Jutustavad laulud, Narrative Songs) of Eisen's collection. The eight songs of sorrow and mourning appear in Section V (Mure ja lein, Sorrow and Mourning). The source text is the archive.org digitization of the Djvu text extraction (identifier: eestirahwalaulud00eiseuoft). The Estonian uses archaic orthography (e.g. "w" for modern "v"). OCR artifacts have been silently corrected against the original where unambiguous.

Eisen appended brief word-explanations (Sõnade seletus) to the Kalmuneid, attributed to Dr. Jakob Hurt, glossing archaic and dialectal terms: nimitsema (to name), kooritud (trimmed, adorned with red cord), raadilaps (councillor's daughter), meelikas (pleasing), sõitse (aunt, dear woman), itk (weeping), kool (death, plague), Manalane (a departed soul), kaustavits and põikpool (parts of a sleigh), meelihobune (willing horse), sillaline (bridged, smooth), Ilmaline (a living being), Kalmuline (a grave-dweller), Toonilane (a dweller in Tooni, the realm of the dead), Tooni (ruler of the death-realm), lidu (layer). These explanations have been omitted from the body but informed the translation.

The Kalmuneid is one of the longest and most narratively complex songs in Estonian folk tradition. Its structure — the broken promise, the escalating bargain with the dead, the discovery of the corpse — belongs to a pan-European ballad family, but the Estonian expression is unique in its mythological detail: the Tooni-dwellers, the Mana-brides, the grave-aunts, the transformation of the dead into star and sand. The motif of the dead demanding the bride echoes the Scottish-Scandinavian "unquiet grave" traditions but is here set within the specific framework of Estonian Tooni theology. The catasterism at the poem's end — son becoming star, bride becoming sand — transforms personal tragedy into cosmic permanence.

The Section V songs preserve the social reality behind the mythological songs: the orphan, the widow, the serf child. The graduated water imagery of Mitu halba? (well, spring, pond, lake, river) is a masterpiece of folk structure. The ironic contrast in Peretütar ja vaenelaps — the rich girl who is pale and gets nothing done, the poor girl who is ruddy and productive — subverts expectation with quiet humor. Üksi jäin ends the cycle with one of the most beautiful images in all folk poetry: the orphan weeping to the globe-flowers and meadowsweet, and the flowers withering in sympathy.

These songs have never before appeared in English translation. The translations are independently derived from the Estonian source text. No prior English translation is known.

Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

Translated from Estonian by Kaltaś, Sub-Miko of Tianmu, 2026.

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Source Text: Eesti rahwalaulud (M.J. Eisen, 1919)

Estonian source text from the archive.org digitization of Eisen's Eesti rahwalaulud (1919), identifier eestirahwalaulud00eiseuoft. Archaic orthography preserved as found. OCR artifacts (double-spacing, garbled characters, page numbers) have been silently corrected against the original where unambiguous. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.

Kalmuneid (Peetrilaul)

Peeter peeni, mees madala,
Kalevine poisikene.
Raius sõõru, rookis sõõru,
Kündis sõõru, külvas kaera.
Külvas kesva kiriku teele,
Kaera kalmu-tee ääre.
Ise kündis, ise mõtles.
Ise külvas ja kõneles:
„Kasva, kasva, kaerakene,
Kergi üles, kesvakene!
O kalmu, kasvata kaera,
O kirik, kergita kesva!
Kui mull kasvab kaunis kaera,
Kaunis kaera, kiidu kesva,
Mina kalmust naise naidan,
Liivasta neitsi nimitsen."

Kasvas kaunis kaerakene.
Kasvas kiidu kesvakene.
Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kalevine mehikene
Viis siis likku ta linnaksed,
Viis ojasse õlleterad.
Hakkas naista naitamaie,
Ubasuuda ostamaie.
O toda venda virolasta,
Emapoega poolakesta!
Ei olnd õige, nagu ütles,
Ei olnd tõsi, mis tõotas,
Ei ta kalmust naista naitnud,
Liiwast ei neitsit nimitsend.

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kalevine mehikene.
Ehtis ennast ilusasti,
Selga ajas sinisärgi,
Pähä kooritud kübara.
Vööle vöö linnalippu,
Jalga seadis saksa saapad;
Nii läks kaasat kosimaie,
Ubasuuda otsimaie.
Kosis Riiast rikka tütre,
Võttis Riia raadilapse.

Kui sai Peeter ju pärale,
Riia rikkalle raadile.
Kuld oli katus koja päälla,
Hõbedased aiavitsad,
Teraksesta teibapaarid.
Ajas hobuse murule,
Paadi pärapaja alla,
Ise läks tuppa teretama,
Teretama, terwitama:
„Tere tere, neiu ema,
Neiu ema, neiu isa,
Tere viis vennakesta,

Ons teil neiduda koduna,
Siidipõlleda põrmandul,
Kuldapärgäda kamberis?
Kas saab siita mulle naista,
Meelikada mõrsijada?"

Neiu ema hellakene,
Neiu mamma marjakene,
Tema lausus meelestana,
Oma meele poolestana:
„On küll meilla neidu kodu,
Siidipõlle põrmandulla,
Kuldapärga kamberissa,
Helmekaela kasterassa.
Saab küll siita sulle naine,
Saaneb meelikas mõrsija."

Neidu astus aida poole,
Üle muru moodusasti,
Kudus kullasta kinnasta,
Heitis lõnga hõbedasta.

Peetrit toas söödetie,
Söödetie, joodetie.
Teda meella ravitseti,
Vahaleemel wasta võeti, —
Neidu aidas ehiteldi,
Kamberissa kaunisteldi.

Sai siis neidu valmistatud,
Käokene kaunistatud,
Neiu ema hellakene,
Neiu mamma marjakene,
Ise ta lausus meelestana,
Oma meele poolestana:
„Peiukene, poisikene,
Aja sa hobu aida ette,
Keerata keldre uksele."
Peeter kuulis kohe käsu.
Ajas hobuse aidale,
Keeratas keldre uksele.

Neidu aidast välja astus,
Kamberista kapsatas',
Kirevambi kui seo rähna,
Meelusambi metsalindu.
Neidu saani saadotie.
Peiu kõrva paigutati,
Anti tall kulda kotitäisi,
Pandi karda karbitäisi.

Peeter mõrsja vastu wõttis,
Sotse saanile sooritas,
Seisatas saani ääre pääle,
Pani jala pardaalle,
Saani parras praksatie,
Looga küüsi loksatie.
Peeter lausus meelestana,
Lausus meele poolestana:
„Jumal teadneb, Jumalukene,
Mari teadneb, madalukene!
Ehk mull itkud eessa onvad,
Silmavesi eessa veerib,
Miks mull loksis looga küüsi,
Miksi praksus saani parras?"

Hakkas koju minemaie,
Vennastelle veeremale.
Olid tall hüvad hobused,
Kaunid olid kaerasööjad,
Läksid mäkke mängidessa,
Kallastesse kareldessa.
Sai ta kalmu kaelale,
Sai ta koolu kohale,
Jõudis ligi liivakulle,
Manalaste maie pääle,
Jäi tall saani seisamaie,
Päralauda peatamaie.
Puutus regi kivi külge,
Kaustavitsa kadajasse,
Põikipooli pädajasse.

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Emalapsi hellakene,
Mineteles, tuleteles,
Mineteles meelihobust,
Tuleteles tuliratsut,
Ei saand mindud meelihobu,
Ei saand tuldud tuliratsu.
Pääse ei saani seisamasta,
Päralauda peatamast.
Pääse ei regi kivi küljest,
Kaustavitsa kadajasta,
Põikipooli pädajasta.

Kaasa küündis küsimaie,
Noorik hakkas nõudemaie:
„Miks sa kisud kivistikku,
Kakud läbi kannustikku?
Sõida teeda sillalista,
Lase teeda laulista.
Ilmaline, Kalmuline,
Tule, päästa regi kivist,
Kaustavitsa kannustikust,
Põikipooli pädastikust."

Välja tulid Toonilased,
Vasta kostsid Kalmulised,
Tooni tütterid tõrelid:
„Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kosilane kõrgikene!
Ei olnd õige, mis sa ütlid,
Ei olnd tõsi, mis tõotid.
Olid sa maada kündemassa,
Leiwamaada liitemassa,
Kui sa künnid, siis sa mõtlid,
Kui sa külvid, siis kõnelid:
Kasva, kasva kaerakene,
Kergi üles, kesvakene!
Mina kalmust naise naidan,
Liivasta neitsi nimitsen.

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kosilane kõrgikene!
Anna meile, mis annade,
Tõota, poissi, mis tõotad."

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kosilane kõrgikene,
Tõotas kimpu kindaaida,
Lubas lidu linikuida,
Hauatäie hamesida,
Lubas kirstu kirevaida,
Kõige vaka valgeeida.
Mineteles, tuleteles,
Mineteles meelihobust,
Tuleteles tuliratsut,
Ei saand mindud meelihobu,
Ei saand tuldud tuliratsu,
Pääse ei saani seisamasta,
Päralauda peatamast.

Jälle tulid Toonilased,
Tooni tütterid tõrelid:
„Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kosilane kõrgikene!
Anna meile, mis annade,
Tõota, poissi, mis tõotad."

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Emalapsi hellakene,
Lubas eesta isa ruuna,
Venna virka vehmerilta,
Lubas karja kasvamasta,
Põlluwilja venimasta.
Mineteles, tuleteles,
Mineteles meelihobust,
Tuleteles tuliratsut,
Ei saand mindud meelihobu,
Ei saand tuldud tuliratsu,
Pääse ei saani seisamasta,
Päralauda peatamast.

Jälle tulid Toonilased,
Tooni tütterid tõrelid:
„Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kosilane kõrgikene!
Anna meile, mis annade,
Tõota, poissi, mis tõotad."

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Emalapsi hellakene,
Tõotas pungast poeraha,
Karmanista kaubaraha.
Lubas vaka vana raha,
Külimitu kilingida.
Lubas kulda kotitäita,
Kallist karda karbitäita.
Mineteles, tuleteles,
Mineteles meelihobust,
Tuleteles tuliratsut,
Ei saand mindud meelihobu,
Ei saand tuldud tuliratsu,
Pääse ei saani seisamasta,
Päralauda peatamast.

Jälle tulid Toonilased,
Tooni tütterid tõrelid:
„Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kosilane kõrgikene!
Anna meile, mis annade,
Tõota, poissi, mis tõotad."

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Emalapsi hellakene,
Lubas sada sajameesta,
Pääle kahte kaasikuda.
Mineteles, tuleteles,
Mineteles meelihobust,
Tuleteles tuliratsut,
Ei saand mindud meelihobu,
Ei saand tuldud tuliratsu,
Pääse ei saani seisamasta,
Päralauda peatamast.

Jälle tulid Toonilased,
Kaldusivad Kalmulised.
Edeje Mana minijad,
Tahaje Tooni tütterid,
Ligi liiva lellenaised,
Kõik nad kalmusta kõnelid,
Sõna ütlid sõmerasta:
„Anna meile, mis annade,
Tõota, poissi, mis tõotad."

Peeterida poisikesta,
Emalasta hellakesta!
Oli temal kõrge kodu,
Oli ilus elamine.
Tõotas ta kõrget kodu,
Ilusada elamista.
Lubas isa, lubas ema,
Oma vendi viimasida.
Mineteles, tuleteles,
Mineteles meelihobust,
Tuleteles tuliratsut.
Ei saand mindud meelihobu,
Ei saand tuldud tuliratsu.
Pääse ei saani seisamasta,
Päralauda peatamast,
Pääse ei regi kivi küljest,
Kaustavitsa kadajasta,
Põikipooli pädajasta.

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Kalevine kosilane.
Mõõka puusassa tilistas,
Kaelarauda raputeles
Tahtis ratsu pääd raiuda,
Hüva hobusta hukata.
Vasta kalmusta kaitseti,
Sõna öeldi sõmerasta:

„Raiugu ei ratsu pääda,
Hukaku ei hüva hobust!
Enne ei pääse saani seismast,
Regi kivista ei kergi,
Anna ära kõige armsam,
Kahelt käelt kõige kallim,
Anna noori nuku aita,
Käokene kaali aita."

Peeterida poisikesta,
Emalasta hellakesta!
Lõi ta käe vasta katta,
Teise käe vasta tõista,
Ära ta ohkas omastelle,
Ära muile mureteles:
„Mis nüüd teha, kuhu minna?"
Anda mul kallis kaali aita,
Linnuke linase aita,
Tõotas noore nuku aita,
Käokese kaali aita.
Mineteles, tuleteles,
Mineteles meelihobust,
Tuleteles tuliratsut,

Nüüd sai mindud meelihobu,
Nüüd sai tuldud tuliratsu,
Pääsis saani seisamasta,
Kerkis regi kivi küljest.

Peeter katsus kaali alla,
Linariiet liiguteles,
Leidis koolija reessa,
Kalmulise kaali alla.
Peetri hiuksed heitisivad,
Peeteri pale pahanes.
Kudas viin koolija koju,
Viin majasse manalase?
Kõik jäi kurvaks kulla hõimu,
Vait jäid sada sajameesta,
Tuumatama tolmulööjad.

Kurvalt sõitsid teeda mööda,
Mõttes marjamaada pidi.

Saivad nad kodu kohale,
Elulinna ligidalle,
Hüva hobune hirnastas,
Tuliratsu sääl turnastas.
Ema läks välja vaatamaie,
Kandja välja kaemaie.
Nägi Peetrit tulevada,
Nurme otsas olevada.
Hüüdis lapsile laietel,
Pisukestele pajatas:
„Jookske lapsed, laske laided,
Laske laided, väändke värav!
Tuuakse memmele minija,
Emale eesta-astuja,
Tuuakse käbe käskujalga,
Sõrmile sõnakuulija,
Koju tuleb auhame,
Auhame, lemmelinik."

Sai siis Peeter koju jõudnud,
Pärale oma perele,
Ajas hobused murule,
Tuliratsud toa ette,
Ema läks vasta vaatamaie,
Kandja vasta kaemaie.
Kas saab noorik naeruline,
Emale lapsi iluline,
Kas saab paras pangedelle,
Arvuline anumaile,
Kas saab tugev tooberille,
Terav tütar talutama,
Või on nuia nuku alla,
Höörinuia hõlsti alla,
Kui kulgeda tasuda,
Äia silmi härgitella.

Ema katsus kaali alla,
Heitis sõrme sõba alla,
Leidis koolija saanista,
Kalmulise kaali alla,
Lõi ta käe katta vasta,
Teise käe teista vasta,
Ise lausus meelestana,
Oma meele poolestana:
„Pojakene, poisikene,
Minu meelimarjakene!
Miks sul koolija saanissa,
Kaali alla kalmuline?"

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Emalapsi hellakene,
Tema täidis, vasta lausus,
Täidis targasti kõnelda:
„Mammakene memmekene,
Kandjakene, kallikene!
Selle tegid hääd hobused,
Tegid kallid kaerasööjad.
Läksid mäkke mängidessa,
Loivad noore nurka vasta,
Käokese kandu vasta,
Säält sai koolija saanie,
Kaali alla kalmuline."

Ema lausus meelestana,
Oma meele poolestana:
„Pojakene, poisikene,
Minu meelimarjakene!
Miks sa petad, miks valetad,
Ei sa õigusta kõnele!
Ei sul teinud hääd hobused,
Ei teind kallid kaerasööjad.
Tegid omalla meelella,
Rumalailla mõtteilla;
Sina kalmust naise naitsid,
Liivast neitsi nimitsesid.
Sestap koolija saanissa,
Kalmuline kaali alla."
Keelas ema, keelas isa,
Keelas venda keskmine,
Noomisid noored sõsared:
„Ära mine koolu kosju,
Kalmust naista kaemaie,
Koolust saa ei kodunaista,
Kalmust karja kaswatajat."

Ema itkule isunes,
Lausus sõna laineella:
„Pojakene, poisikene,
Vaga hinge vaimukene!
Kuhu mina sinu panen,
Kuhu meelika minija?
Neiulla on sugu suuri,
Sugu suuri, võsa võiva,
Teda taga otsitakse,
Vara vaja leietakse."

Peeter, peeni poisikene,
Emalapsi hellakene,
Tema täidis, vasta lausus,
Täidis targasti kõnelda:
„Mammakene, memmekene,
Kandjakene, kallikene!
Poeg pane täheks taevaasse,
Mini sõmeraks meresse."

Ema itkulla kõneles,
Lausus sõna laineella:
„Kelle kostan kulla sõna,
Kelle annan armu sõna?"

„Emakene, memmekene,
Kandjakene kallikene!
Tuled üles hommikulla,
Vara enne valgeeda,
Paja siis pärani põrutes,
Uksed otsani aruta.
Vaata kuuda kõrgeesa,
Vaata tähti taevaasse;
Mis on tähti ilusambi,
Ilusambi, valusambi,
See on sinu armas poega,
Sinu kallis kasulapsi;
Selle kosta kulla sõna,
Selle anna armu sõna.

Emakene, memmekene,
Kandjakene, kallikene!
Lähed sa vara vesile,
Mine mere ääre peale,
Mis on sõmer höörisambi,
Höörisambi, veerisambi,
See su meelikas minija,
Sinu käbe käskujalga.
Selle kosta kulla sõna,
Selle anna armu sõna."

Ema istus itkemaie,
Muru peale muretama,
Nina all nõretusvakka,
Itkes ta itku vakatäie,
Nõreksida nõlvatäie,
Itkes oja ukse alla,
Lätte toa läve alla:
„Hoidsin mina hüva poega,
Imetin poega ilusat,
Mõtlin tuge tulevada,
Mõtlin abi astuvada.
Ei saanud abi imele,
Ei astunud abi armalle.
Silmavesi sai vihtumast,
Suitsu sauna küttamasta.
Kui ma seda teades teadnud,
Mõistnud meelega mõtelda,
Ennem ma hoidnud turbaaida,
Parem ma mähkind mättaaida,
Seni ma itken, kuni elan,
Seni kuiigun, kuni koolen."

Ma vaene mure Mareta

Ma vaene mure Mareta,
Leinahoole linnukene,
Ma istun muremäella,
Hoolekaevu kaldaalla,
Muremütsike peassa,
Hoolepõlleke eessa.
Suu laulab, süda muretseb.

Paled laineida lasevad,
Kulmud vetta kukutavad,
Silmad vetta veeretavad;
Silmist veereb rindadele,
Rinnult veereb põlvedele,
Sealt ap maha maa peale,
Saab siis jõgi jooksemaie,
Külakaevud kallamaie,
Siis saab küla karjal juua,
Virumaagi veistel juua,
Minu vaese silmaveesta,
Pale laia lainetesta,
Kulmu kulla tilkeesta.

Kust on mure mulle tulnud,
Hooli lapsele ujunud,
Leina liugund tütarele,
Kahju kallanud kannale?
Mullu jõin murekarika,
Tunamullu hooletoobi,
Tänavu sõin leinaleiva,
Leinaleiva, kahjukaku.

Mis maksab minu muregi,
Kaua hoole kandemine,
Lehekese leinamine.
Kus ep mu isa muretse,
Kus ep mu ema muretse,
Vennad kaksi kanna hoolta!
Muret mulla, ega muuda,
Hoolta mulla, ega hoosta,
Kahju mulla, mul pole karja,
Tukuksin tuliseid silmi,
Magaksin mesise meele,
Ei lase mure magada,
Hool ei unda uinutada,
Rive meel ei ringuteda,
Hoole meel ei haigutada,
Mure kütab kulle alla,
Pakitab palaka alla,
Hooli põuessa põletab,
Leina lehib voodissa.
Oleks see mure muude teada,
Hooli muude otsa eessa,
Kahi muude kaela kanda.
Mis on mu enese teada,
Muret saaks mustalla vedada,
Korvikesel kõigutada.

Mis maksab minu muregi?
Muretsen mina, murran meele,
Kahetsen mina, katkun kaela,
Rudjun nigejed juukseida,
Vaotan meevahaseid,
Katkun kullakarvalisi!

Mitu halba?

Mitu halba ilma pealla?
Viis on halba ilma pealla:
Üks on poeg ilma isata,
Teine tütar, kes emata.
Kolmas halba orjakene,
Neljas halba vaene lapsi.
Viies halba leskinaine.

Kus nutab poega isata,
Sinna kaevu kaevatakse.
Kus nutab tütar emata,
Sinna allikas aruneb,
Kussa nutab orjakene,
Sinna tehaks tiigikene,
Kussa nutab vaene lapsi,
Sinna jäänud järvekene.
Kus aga nutab leskinaine,
Sinna jookseb jõekene!

Lese kaebus

Oh ma vaene leskinaine,
Leskinaine, leinalindu,
Nutuorja, nurgalindu,
Valuovja, vaevalindu!
Ära mind toast tõugatie,
Toasta ja toa eesta,
Väravalta, vainuulta,
Õue pealta, õnnemaalta.
Nõnda vaene leskinaine
Kui see väli on aiata,
Kõik lambad sisse laduvad,
Kari sisse kalluteleb,
Orasida otsimaie,
Kõiki napru katsumaie.
Nõnda vaene leskinaine
Kui see tuba katuseta,
Kõik vihmad peale vihuvad,
Kõik sajud peale sajavad.

Oh ma vaene vaevalindu,
Nutuorja, õhkelindu.
Ennast pean elatama,
Üksi kurbust kustutama.
Lehed lendvad lepadesta,
Kadunevad kaskedelta,
Alanevad haabadesta,
Varisevad vahterista,
Taganevad tammedesta,
Sahisevad saaredesta,
Käbi kukub kuuskedesta,
Ei minu pidu ei parane,
Ei minu elu ei ülene.
Vähene ei vaevapäevad,
Lõpe otsa leinapäevad!

Peretütar ja vaenelaps

Peretütar, neitsikene,
Istub seal ilumäella,
Ilukindaad käessa,
Kiri kinnastes ilusa.
Sööb saia, sia libada,
Siiski silmista sinine,
Kõrva äärest kolletanud.
Kedrab kedrust suised päevad,
Tallab vokki talvsed päevad,
Suvel villu, talvel takku,
Kevadel linu lahedaid.
Ei saa särki sääselegi,
Palakada parmulegi,
Kirbule ei kulle riiet.

Oh seda vaesta orjalasta,
Istub seal mure mäella,
Mure kindaad käessa,
Mure kiri kinnastessa,
Sööb aga putka põõsa aita,
Vesinaata lepi kusta,
Siiski putkella punane,
Siiski silmista sileda.
Kedrab, kedrab kevadella,
Saab aga särki sääselegi,
Palakada parmulegi,
Kirbulegi kulle riiet,
Peremehel peenta riiet.

Vaenelaps

Mina valla vaenelapsi,
Käia otsas orjakene.
Kes mind ostis orjusesta,
Päästis mõisa päevadesta,
Lunastas lume saosta,
Lumekäkkide käesta?
Jumal mind ostis orjusesta,
Päästis mõisa päevadesta,
Lunastas lume saosta,
Lumekäkkide käesta.

Kus on kurvalla kõduda
Ja on halvalla aseda?
Kus on tuuled teinud toa,
Sadu sammeldanud seinad.

Ema viidi läve poole,
Armud aeti ahju kõrva.
Ema viidi uksest välja,
Armud astsid aknast välja,
Ema viidi teeda mööda,
Armud astsid aeda mööda.
Ema viidi haua äärde,
Armud astsid haua taha,
Ema hauda kaevatessa,
Armud seisid haua ääres,
Ema lasti alla hauda,
Armud läksid haua alla.

Emakene, heldekene,
Jätsid mind onude hoolde,
Jätsid mind tädide teada.
Onu ei hooli ometigi,
Tädi ei pane tähelegi.
Emakene, heldekene,
Jätsid mind ilma ehitada,
Jätsid valla valitseda.
Ilm see ehib minu ikku,
Valda valmistab mu vaeva.
Kus ma istun, iste märga,
Kus ma seisan, seina märga.
Sinna tekib tiigikene,
Sinna kaldub kaevukene,
Sinna jääb järvekene.

Seal saab küla karjal juua,
Küla varsul vallatada,
Küla hobustel ujuda
Minu pikist pisarista,
Vaese lapse silmaveesta!

Isata emata

Oh mina isata lapsi,
Oh mina emata lapsi,
Vanemata vaene lapsi!
Otsin ilmalta isada,
Otsin ilmalta emada,
Aita ilma haudujada,
Pealta ilma päästijada.

Ülevelt aga hüüab Isa,
Maalta Määrija kõneleb:
Ärge lööge vaesta lasta,
Vaesta lasta, leski naista.
Vaene nutab löömatagi,
Leski naine söömatagi,
Hulub ilma hoobitagi,
Vingub vitsa võttemata,
Karjub kaika katsumata.

Üksi jäin mina hüüdemaie,
Kanapoega karjumaie,
Linaseeme seisamaie.
Mul pole armuandijada,
Ei ole pea silitajat.
Tuleb tuuli, annab armu,
Päeva mu pea silitab.
Tundideks on tuule armu,
Eluajaks eide armu.

Orjalaps

Oh ma vaene orjalapsi,
Mahajäänud marjakene,
Ei ole isa kaitsemassa,
Ema armu andemassa.
Vennakest ei veere vainul,
Õde õhtul teretamas.
Sugulast ei soovitamas,
Ligemist ei lepitamas.
Hauda läks mul eidekene,
Kalmu kadus taadikene.
Sõjasurma suikus veli,
Sõsar katkule kolletas.
Tädi taudilla lõpetas,
Onu õnnetuse kätte,
Lelle suri leinadesse.

Peremees on väga kuri,
Perenaine liiga vali,
Peretütar tuleharki,
Perepoega palju pahem!
Õuekoeral parem põli,
Karjapenil kergem pidu,
Kergem pidu, hõlpsam elu
Kui on vaesel orjalapsel,
Kaitsemata kauakesel.
Oh mina isata lapsi,
Oh mina emata lapsi,
Vanemata vaene lapsi!
Igaüks minusta ütleb:
Lööge seda, see isata,
Lööge seda, see emata,
Vanemata vaene lapsi,
Ei ole tuttavat toeksi,
Ei ole omasta abiksi!

Üksi jäin

Üksi jäin mina isata,
Üksi jäin mina emata,
Üksi jäin mina hüüdemaie,
Kanapoega karjumaie,
Püüpoega põõsaasse,
Kägu kändude vahele.
Üksi jäin muna murule,
Üksi jäin kera kesale,
Üksi jäin õuna õue peale;
Ei muna muruda riku,
Ei kera kesada riku,
Õun ei riku õuekesta.
Muna on murule ilusa,
Õun on õues ümmargune.

Ikka on minul igava,
Alati minul haleda,
Mitu korda meeli kurba;
Kellel kiirdan, kellel kaeban,
Kellel kurdan kurbad meeled,
Kellel haigeda halatsen,
Kellel vihad veeretaksin?

Kiirdan kullerkuppudele,
Halan angervaksadele,
Nutan noorele rohule;
Kullerkupud kolletavad,
Angervaksad hallitavad,
Rohi noori norus seisab
Minu kulla kurtadessa,
Ta aina halatsedessa,
Sirgu silmi pühkidessa.

Source Colophon

Source text: M.J. Eisen, Eesti rahwalaulud (Estonian Folk Songs), Kuressaare: T. Liiwi trükk / Tallinn: G. Pihlaka, 1919. Public domain. Digitized by Google Books, extracted via archive.org Djvu text (identifier: eestirahwalaulud00eiseuoft). The above Estonian text preserves Eisen's archaic orthography, including dialectal forms and the older "w" for modern "v". OCR artifacts (double-spacing, garbled characters, page numbers) have been silently corrected against the original where unambiguous. The Kalmuneid is drawn from Section I (Jutustavad laulud), lines 1074–1640 of the source text. The eight sorrow and mourning songs are drawn from Section V (Mure ja lein), lines 5559–5904.

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