from Suomen kansan muinaisia loitsurunoja, compiled by Elias Lönnrot (1880)

When a blade cut human flesh, the Finnish tietäjä (seer-shaman) did not reach first for a bandage. He reached for a story. The logic of the Finnish healing charm is absolute: to command a substance, you must know where it came from. The tietäjä who could recite the birth of iron — from the sky-maiden’s milk to the bog-mud to the smith’s forge — held power over it. These seven charms are the functional application of that knowledge. They are what the healer spoke over the wound.

The charms follow a pattern as old as the oldest Finnish verse. The tietäjä addresses iron directly, as a sentient being — a kinsman who has broken its oath. Iron is scolded, shamed, reminded of its lowly origins. “You were not great then,” the charm-singer says again and again, tracing iron’s life from sky-milk through bog-mud through the forge of Ilmarinen, where it swore before the fire never to harm its brother. “You broke your wretched oath. You ate your honour like a dog.” The technique is not metaphor. It is a technology of power: the origin story gives the healer authority, and the rebuke is a command.

The seven variants collected here range from brief rebukes (a, b) through the full origin narrative with its five-fold refrain (c, d), the tietäjä’s first-person claim of authority (e), a remarkable negotiation in which the healer proposes eternal brotherhood with iron (f), and the etiological explanation of why iron became evil — the horsefly of Hiisi who poisoned the tempering water with snake venom (g). Together they constitute the fullest surviving repertoire of Finnish iron-wound healing practice. They are the companion piece to the Birth of Iron (raudan synty) already in this archive.

These charms have never before appeared in English. The Blood Rule is satisfied: every line is translated independently from Lönnrot’s Finnish, with no prior English translation known to exist.

a.

Woe to you, wretched iron,
Wretched pit-thing, base-born slag,
Why did you do such vile work,
Fumble at such foolish labour,
Turn your head to evil,
Turn your locks to ruin,
When you wounded your own nature,
Held your own kindred in your teeth?
I know your lineage well:
The bog your father, the bog your mother,
Rust-earth the rest of your kin,
Fire raised you to greatness,
Water baptised you to roughness,
An old woman, a wheel of rage,
She dashed you into frenzy,
Set iron to rending,
The fine blade to slashing,
The blue mouth to tearing.

b.

Woe to you, wretched iron,
Steel, the enchanter’s supper,
Why did you harm your kinsman,
Hold your own family in your teeth?
Why did you trouble the flesh,
And set the blood flowing?
Did you think you were biting wood,
Getting at birch,
Hewing aspen,
Nipping spruce,
Gnawing brushwood,
Devouring the heart of stone?
You did not bite wood,
Did not get at birch,
Did not hew aspen,
Did not nip spruce,
Nor gnaw brushwood,
Nor devour the heart of stone —
You broke the skin of a human creature,
Severed the poor soul’s hair,
Then entered the sinews
And clung to the flesh,
Let the blood flow forth,
The red pour down,
From the skin of the wretched creature,
From the suffering body.

c.

Oh you, iron wretch,
Iron wretch, poor rust,
Have you now grown great,
Risen to overweening pride,
To scorn your own birth,
To wound your own nature?

You were not great then,
Neither great nor small,
When you lay as milk,
Languished as fresh cream,
In the breasts of a young maiden,
Grew in the maiden’s bosom,
On the edge of the long cloud,
Under the level sky.

Nor were you great then,
Not great nor small,
When you rested as mud,
Stood as clear water,
On the back of the greatest bog,
On the crest of the bleak fell —
The wolf trampled you with its hooves,
The bear with its paws.

Nor were you great then,
Not great nor small,
When you were trampled from the bog,
Worked from the earth’s mould,
Got from among the clay,
Carried in a knapsack,
Brought to the smith’s forge,
Under Ilmarinen’s furnace.

Nor were you great then,
Not great nor small,
When you drifted in the furnace,
Sputtered like summer butter,
Stretched like wheat dough,
Sprawled like rye porridge,
In the fierce fire-places,
In the forge of the smith Ilmarinen.

Nor were you great then,
Not great nor small,
When you came through the fire
From under Ilmarinen’s furnace,
Cried as a golden cuckoo
In the mouth of the great bellows,
Swore your solemn oath
That you would not cut your brother,
Would not abuse your kin,
Would not hold your family in your teeth.

Already you broke your wretched oath,
Ate your honour like a dog,
When you cut your brother,
Chipped your mother’s child.

d.

Hush, you, wretched iron,
Dark mould’s dinner,
Now you have grown terrible,
Twisted yourself to strength!
When I remember your past,
Think back upon your beginning:
You were not great then,
Not very fine either,
When you dribbled as fresh cream,
Languished beneath the breast,
In the teats of a young maiden,
On the edge of the long cloud.

Nor were you great then,
Not great nor certain,
When you swayed as a spring
And lapped as wellwater,
Or when you ran as a river
Past the village fields,
Where harlots washed their rags,
Where ragamuffins scrubbed their tatters —
Then you changed to earth-mould,
Became rust-earth,
The elk rubbed on the bog’s back,
The deer trampled on the heath.

Nor were you great then,
Nor very fierce,
When I raised you from the bog with my fingers,
Lifted you from the froth with my hands,
Clawed you from the heath,
Scratched you from the black mould,
Then carried you in my knapsack,
Set you under the furnace.

Nor were you great then,
Not very painful either,
When you went in the smith’s forge
To get your edge made,
When you hissed as slag,
Sizzled like butter,
In the furnace, on the anvil,
Under hammers and bright tools,
When you swore your eternal oaths
Before the fire as judge,
At the smith’s standing-place,
On the forging-ground —
That you would not abuse your kin,
Would not hold your family in your teeth.

e.

Iron wretch, base-born slag,
Fine steel, enchanted one!
In vain you grew to greatness,
In spite you grew to roughness.
I know your lineage well
And all your upbringing:
From the bog is your kindred,
From water is your strength;
There you grew, iron wretch,
In a lowly dwelling,
Stretched in cold water,
Slackened in the spring,
Scraped under the hooves of cattle,
Spurted beneath the herdsman’s feet,
In the bog in the wolf’s tracks,
In the fox’s sand-mound.

Then I too came there,
To iron’s birthplace,
Dug you from under the sod,
Scraped you from the rust,
Scoured you from the horse’s urine,
Escorted you to the smith’s forge,
To the smith’s anvil bare,
To the bright hammer.

There you swore, iron wretch,
As you were made into edged tools,
Swore your solemn oath
To your elder brother,
Before open God,
On Kaleva’s shoe-strings —
That you would not wound your nature,
Would not do harm to your brother.

f.

Woe to you, wretched iron,
Wretched iron, base-born slag,
Who commanded you to anger,
Who set you to evil work,
Who urged you to wickedness —
Was it your father or your mother,
Or the eldest of your brothers,
Or the youngest of your sisters,
Or some other of your great kindred,
Your bright clan?

If you are a raised iron,
Go upon the one who raised you,
Turn aside from the guiltless,
Roll away from the innocent!

Iron sledge, golden shield,
Make eternal peace with me,
Swear fast brotherhood
For our lifetime, for our air,
For our generation, for our days!
Kissing-close is our kindred,
Mixed together is our seed,
Earth you and earth I,
Black mould the both of us,
Common earth we live upon,
There we come together,
Find each other, one in the other.

If desire comes upon you,
If your mind craves to devour,
Do not break the baptised,
Break the unbaptised instead,
Turn aside from the guiltless,
Hold the guilty in your embrace!

g.

Iron would not be evil,
Steel would not recklessly destroy,
Without the snake-mother’s cone,
Without the black serpent’s milk.

The Karelian, a slender boy,
Slender boy, a crafty man,
Spun on the ground on his knees,
Dug the earth with his heel,
Trod it with his toe —
A horsefly rose from the earth,
From the Karelian’s heel-path,
From the toe’s treading-place,
Flew to the smiths’ forge,
Flying up to the forge-roof,
Peering from the roof-edge,
Dangling from the rafter,
While steel was being made,
While blades were being built —
Said it would bring the sharpest tempering,
Carry the hardest quenching.

It did not bring the sharpest,
Did not carry the hardest —
It brought Hiisi’s terrors,
Carried the serpent’s venom,
The black worm’s milk,
The lizard’s eye-water,
Into the iron’s christening-water,
Into the steel being made.

From that a glitter was born,
Iron grew pale,
Got iron to rending,
The blue mouth to tearing,
Long it built toward frenzy,
The blade’s tongue to keenness.

A little time passed,
When already the iron wretch grew angry,
Cut the skin of a human creature,
Severed the poor soul’s hair —
The blood got flowing,
The gore gushing,
The milk running to the ground,
The red pouring down.

Colophon

Source: Elias Lönnrot (comp.), Suomen kansan muinaisia loitsurunoja (Ancient Charm Songs of the Finnish People), Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1880. Section 22: Raudan loukkaamissa (For Iron Wounds), variants a–g.

Translation: Good Works Translation by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026. Translated independently from the Finnish source text. No prior English translation of these incantations is known to exist. Orthographic variants (Toisin:) are omitted for readability.

Note: These seven charms form the functional complement to the raudan synty (Birth of Iron) already in this archive. Where the synty tells how iron was born, these charms are what the tietäjä spoke over the wound — the knowledge deployed as power. The technique is consistent across all seven variants: the charm-singer addresses iron in the second person, as a sentient being who has broken faith. Iron is reminded of its humble origins (as milk in the sky-maiden’s breast, as mud in the bog, as dough in the forge) and accused of oath-breaking. Variant (c) deploys a five-fold refrain — “you were not great then” — tracing iron’s full biography from sky through earth through fire. Variant (f) is extraordinary: the healer proposes eternal brotherhood with iron, declaring “earth you and earth I, black mould the both of us,” and negotiates a truce: if iron must devour, let it devour the unbaptised, not the christened. Variant (g) explains how iron became evil: the horsefly of Hiisi poisoned the tempering water with snake venom, so iron broke its oath despite itself. Together these seven variants preserve the full repertoire of Finnish iron-wound healing practice as it survived into the nineteenth century.

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

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Source Text: Raudan loukkaamissa

Finnish source text from Elias Lönnrot (comp.), Suomen kansan muinaisia loitsurunoja (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1880). Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above. Variant notations (Toisin:) are omitted for readability; the text preserves the original orthography.

a.

Voi sinua, rauta raukka,
Hauta raukka, koito kuona,
Miksi teit tihua työtä,
Työtä tuhmoa tuhersit,
Tulit päästäsi pahaksi,
Tukastasi turmiolle,
Kun sa loukoit luontoasi,
Sukuasi suin pitelit?
Kyllä sun sukusi tieän:
Suo isosi, suo emosi,
Ruskomulta muu sukusi,
Tuli sun suureksi sukesi,
Vesi kastoi karkeaksi,
Akka vanha, raivo pyörä,
Se sun raivohon rapaisi,
Laitti rauan ratkomahan,
Terän hietra hilpomahan,
Suun sinervän silpomahan.

b.

Voi sinua, rauta raukka,
Teräs tenhon päivällinen,
Miksi veikkosi vikosit,
Suin pi’it oman sukusi;
Miksi liikutit lihoa,
Sekä verta vuoattelit?
Luulitko puuta purrehesi,
Koivua kokenehesi,
Haapoa hakannehesi,
Närettä näpännehesi,
Haukannehesi hakoja,
Kiven syäntä syönehesi?
Etpä puuta purrutkana,
Koivua kokenutkana,
Haapoa hakannutkana,
Närettä näpännytkänä,
Etkä haukannut hakoa,
Et syönyt kiven syäntä,
Kun rikoit ihon imehnon,
Katkaisit kahimon karvan,
Siitä suonihin panihet,
Ja lihoille liittelihet,
Veren päästit vuotamahan,
Punaisen putoamahan,
Ihosta imehno raukan,
Vaivaisesta vartalosta.

c.

Oh sinua, rauta raiska,
Rauta raiska, ruoste rukka,
Joko nyt suureksi sukesit,
Ylenit ylen ehoksi,
Syrjimähän syntyäsi,
Luontoasi loukkomahan?

Et sä silloin suuri ollut,
Etkä suuri etkä pieni,
Kun sa maitona makasit,
Rieskasena riuvottelit,
Nuoren neitosen nisissä,
Kasvoit immen kainalossa,
Pitkän pilven rannan päällä,
Alla taivahan tasaisen.

Etkä silloin suuri ollut,
Et ollut suuri etkä pieni,
Kun sa liejuna lepäsit,
Seisoit selvänä vetenä,
Suurimmalla suon selällä,
Tuiman tunturin laella;
Susi sotki sorkillansa,
Karhu kämmenyisillänsä.

Etkä silloin suuri ollut,
Et ollut suuri etkä pieni,
Kun sa suosta sotkettihin,
Maan muasta muokattihin,
Saatihin saven seasta,
Kassikassa kannettihin,
Tuotihin sepon pajahan,
Alle ahjon Ilmarisen.

Etkä silloin suuri ollut,
Et ollut suuri etkä pieni,
Kun sa ahjossa ajelit,
Kesävoina votkottelit,
Venyit vehnäisnä tahasna,
Rukihisna ruikalenna,
Tuimissa tulisijoissa,
Sepon Ilmarin pajassa.

Etkä silloin suuri ollut,
Et ollut suuri etkä pieni,
Kun tulit läpi tulista
Alta ahjon Ilmarisen,
Kukuit kullaisna käkenä
Suussa suurien paletten,
Vannoit vaikean valasi,
Ett’ et veistä veljääsi,
Herjaele heimoasi,
Sukuasi suin pitele.

Petit jo vaivainen valasi,
Söit kuin koira kunniasi,
Kun sa veistit veljääsi,
Lastusit emosi lasta.

d.

Hos sinua, rauta raukka,
Mura mustan päivällinen,
Kun nyt kasvoit kauheaksi,
Väkeväksi vääntelihet!
Kun ma muistan muinaistasi,
Ajattelen alkuasi:
Et sä silloin suuri ollut,
Et kovin koreakana,
Kun sa rensuit rieskasena,
Alla rinnan riuvottelit,
Nuoren neitosen nisuissa,
Pitkän pilven partahalla.

Etkä silloin suuri ollut,
Et ollut suuri etkä varma,
Kun sa heiluit hettehenä
Ja läikyit lähevetenä,
Tahi kun jokena juoksit
Kylän peltojen perätse,
Huuhtoi huorat hurstiansa,
Ripakot rapakkojansa,
Muutuit tuosta maamuraksi,
Ruostemullaksi rupesit,
Hirvet hieroi suon selällä,
Peurat pieksi kankahalla.

Etkä silloin suuri ollut,
Etkä äijältä äkäinen,
Kun sun sormin suosta nostin,
Käsin kuohusta kohotin,
Koprin kaivoin kankahasta,
Kynsin mustasta murasta,
Siitä kannoin kassissani,
Asetin sun alle ahjon.

Etkä silloin suuri ollut,
Et kovin kipusaskana,
Kun kävit sepon pajassa
Tereäsi teettämässä,
Kun sa kuonana kohisit,
Voisulana sukkelehit,
Ahjossa, alaisimella,
Vasarilla, valkkamilla,
Kun vannoit valat ikuiset
Tulen tuomarin e’essä,
Sepon seisonta-sijalla,
Takehinta-tanterella,
Ett’ et herjo heimoasi,
Sukuasi suin pitele.

e.

Rauta raiska, kuona koito,
Teräs hieno, tenhollinen!
Suotta suureksi rupesit,
Kiusan kasvoit karkeaksi.
Kyllä sun sukusi tie’än
Sekä kaiken kasvantosi:
Suosta on sinun sukusi,
Veestä on sinun väkesi;
Siellä kasvoit rauta raiska
Alahaisessa asussa,
Venyit kylmässä ve’essä,
Hettehessä herpottelit,
Karskuit karjan kynnen alla,
Parskuit paimenen jaloissa,
Suolla sorkissa sutosen,
Revon liivamättähässä.

Tulinpa minäki tuonne
Rauan syntymasijoille,
Kaivoin sun kamaran alta,
Ruopostelin ruostehesta,
Kuurasin hevon kusesta,
Saattelin sepon pajahan,
Sepän panna paljallansa,
Vasaralla valkkaella.

Siinä vannoit rauta raiska
Tehtöäissä teräkaluiksi,
Vannoit vaikean valasi
Vanhemmalle veljellesi,
Eessä julkisen Jumalan,
Kengän kau’oilla Kalevan,
Ett’ et louko luontoasi,
Tee vihoa veljellesi.

f.

Voi sinua, rauta raukka,
Rauta raukka, koito kuona,
Kenpä sun vihalle käski,
Ku pani pahalle työlle,
Kenpä kehnolle kehotti,
Isosiko vai emosi,
Vaiko vanhin veljiäsi,
Vai nuorin sisariasi,
Vaiko muu sukusi suuri,
Heimokuntasi heleä?

Kun sa lienet nostorauta,
Mene päälle nostajasi,
Syrjin muista syyttömistä,
Vieritse viattomista!

Rauta rekki, kultakilpi,
Tee mulle iki sovinto,
Vanno varsin veljeksyyttä,
Ijäksemme, ilmaksemme,
Polveksemme, päiviksemme!
Suuksutustenp’ on sukumme,
Sekatusten siemenemme,
Maa sinäki, maa minäki,
Musta multa kumpanenki,
Maata yhteistä elämme,
Siinä yhtehen yhymme,
Saamme toinen toisihimme.

Jos sulle halu tulevi,
Syöä mielesi tekevi,
Ele riko ristittyä,
Riko ristimättömiä,
Syrjitellen syyttömiä,
Syylliä sylin pitele!

g.

Ei rauta paha olisi,
Teräs ei tuhmin turmeloisi,
Emän käärmehen kävyttä,
Maon mustan muimehitta.

Karilainen kaita poika,
Kaita poika, mies kavala,
Pyöri maassa polvillahan,
Kaivoi maata kannallahan,
Varpahallahan vatusti;
Hörhiläinen maasta nousi,
Karilaisen kannan tiestä,
Varpahan vatustamasta,
Lensi seppojen pajalle;
Lentävi pajan katolle,
Katsovi katon rajasta,
Ruotehesta roijottavi,
Teräksiä tehtäessä,
Kantoja rakettaessa,
Sanoi tuovansa teräintä,
Karaisinta kantavansa.

Eip’ on tuonunna teräintä,
Karaisinta kantanunna,
Toip’ on Hiien hirmuloita,
Kantoi käärmehen kähyjä,
Maon mustan muimehia,
Sisiliskon silmänteitä,
Rauan ristintävetehen,
Teräksihin tehtävihin.

Siitäpä vilkuna sikesi,
Kasvoi rauta kalpistuva,
Sai se rauan ratkomahan,
Suu sinervän silpomahan,
Kauan raivoksi rakenti,
Terän kielen kekkeäksi.

Olipa aikoa vähäinen,
Kun jo suuttui rauta raiska,
Leikkasi ihon imehnon,
Katkaisi kahimon karvan;
Pääsi veri vuotamahan,
Hurme hupperehtamahan,
Maito maahan juoksemahan,
Punainen putoamahan.

Source Colophon

Finnish source text from Elias Lönnrot (comp.), Suomen kansan muinaisia loitsurunoja (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1880). Section 22: Raudan loukkaamissa (For Iron Wounds), variants a–g. Public domain (1880 publication). Project Gutenberg EBook #48751, volunteer transcription by Jari Koivisto.

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