Kanteletar — Mataleena's Journey and the Virgin Mary's Hymn

Songs 5 and 6 from Elias Lönnrot's Kanteletar (1840), Book III: Ancient-Belief Songs

The Kanteletar — "Daughter of the Kantele" — is Lönnrot's 1840 companion volume to the Kalevala. Where the Kalevala is epic and narrative, the Kanteletar is lyric and personal: laments, lullabies, wedding songs, ritual invocations, and pre-Christian mythological songs, compiled from the Finnish Literary Society's fieldwork manuscripts. Over five hundred songs across three books. Book III, the Virsi-Lauluja (Sacred Songs), opens with six Muinais-uskoisia — Ancient-Belief Songs — that preserve the oldest stratum of Finnish folk religion: pre-Christian cosmogonic myths, trickster legends, and Christian narratives absorbed into the alliterative Kalevala metre and transformed into something neither Christianity nor paganism would fully recognise as its own.

The two songs translated here are the final pair of the Ancient-Belief cycle, completing the section whose first four songs are translated separately (see Sacred Songs from the Kanteletar). Song 5, Mataleenan vesimatka (Mataleena's Water Journey), is a compact Finnish folk legend of Mary Magdalene — a proud maiden who encounters Jesus disguised as a cowherd, is confronted with three infanticides she has hidden, and begs him to punish her as stepping-stones, as driftwood, as embers. Song 6, Neitsy Maarian virsi (The Virgin Mary's Hymn), is the longest and most narratively complex poem in the entire Kanteletar — a complete folk gospel of nearly a thousand lines, from the Annunciation (a lingonberry that rises from Mary's shoes to her mouth) through the Nativity (in a stable where the horse's breath becomes the sauna's steam), the Epiphany (a fox carries the news, an ox-skull bellows, a roasted rooster crows, a knife sprouts golden leaves), the Passion (the Road, the Star, the Moon, and the Sun each personified and each giving their verdict on God's creation), and the Resurrection (the Sun melts the stones of the grave), to the Harrowing (Jesus locks Judas in his own chains and ascends through nine heavens). The pre-Christian world glows through every scene: Tapiola's pine-hill, Hiisi's stallion, the speaking celestial bodies, the fox as divine messenger, the gravel-mare's trough. No public domain English translation of the Kanteletar exists. These translations are independently derived from the 1840 Finnish text (Project Gutenberg #7078).

Song 5 — Mataleena's Water Journey (Mataleenan vesimatka)

Book III, Section I: Ancient-Belief Songs — a Finnish folk legend of Mary Magdalene.

Young Mataleena the maiden —
long she grew at home,
long she grew, far she was renowned,
beside her good father,
with her beloved mother.
She wore down the floor-beam
with her high-heeled shoes,
wore down the timber threshold
with her fine-hemmed skirt,
another timber from above her head
with her golden coronet;
she wore down the iron stool
washing dishes,
wore down the corner of the table
with her silver-handled knife.

Young Mataleena the maiden
went to fetch water from the spring,
a golden pail in her hand,
a gold-eared pail.
She gazed at her reflection:
"Oh woe is me, poor maiden!
My beauty has changed away,
my fair complexion vanished;
my breast-brooch does not gleam,
nor does my head-silver shine,
as they gleamed last summer,
as they shone the year before."

Jesus herding among the willows,
in the Karelian clearings,
begged for water to drink:
"Give me water to drink!"

"I have no vessel,
nor is my jug at home;
the goblets toppled in a heap,
the jugs rattled like firewood."

"Then fill your fist with a handful,
a cupped palmful!"

"What are you saying, Finnish lad,
Finnish lad, slave of the lands,
my father's eternal herdsman,
who lived on charity reeds,
who grew up on fish-heads,
in the Karelian clearings!"

"Then I am a Finnish lad,
Finnish lad, slave of the lands,
your father's eternal herdsman,
who lived on charity reeds,
who grew up on fish-heads,
in the Karelian clearings —
unless I tell your own deeds."
"Tell all that you know!"

"Where are your three little sons? —
one you flung into the fire,
the second you cast into the water,
the third you buried in the sand.
The one you flung into the fire —
he would have been a knight in Sweden;
the one you cast into the water —
he would have been a lord in this land;
the one you buried in the sand —
he would have been the finest priest."

Young Mataleena the maiden
then began to weep,
wept the pail full of water,
washed Jesus's feet,
dried them with her hair:
"You yourself must be Lord Jesus,
since you told my own deeds!
Place me, Lord Jesus,
place me wherever you wish,
as stepping-stones in bogs and lands,
to be trodden by wayfarers,
to be walked upon underfoot!

Place me, Lord Jesus,
place me wherever you wish,
as bridges upon the sea's back,
as driftwood upon the waves,
for every wind to batter,
on the crest of the broad wave!

Place me, Lord Jesus,
place me wherever you wish,
thrust me as embers into the fire,
as firebrands into the blaze,
for every fire to scorch,
for every flame to burn!"

Song 6 — The Virgin Mary's Hymn (Neitsy Maarian virsi)

Book III, Section I: Ancient-Belief Songs — the folk gospel of Finland. The longest poem in the Kanteletar.

I. The Berry and the Conception

Virgin Mary the mother,
blessed mother, merciful,
dressed herself, clothed herself,
adorned herself with head-jewels,
fastened her copper clasps,
buckled her tin-belts,
went from the cottage to the yard,
tripping into the farmyard.

She looked about the farmyard,
listened at the lane's end,
when a berry called from the ground,
a lingonberry from the heath:
"Come, maiden, come and pick me,
red-cheek, come and pluck me,
tin-breast, come and gather me,
belt-copper, come and choose me,
before the snail eats me,
before the black worm takes me!
A hundred have come to look at me,
a thousand have sat idle,
a hundred maidens, a thousand women,
children without number;
no one would touch me,
no one would pick me, poor berry."

Low Mary the maiden,
holy maid so small,
went to look for the berry,
to pick the red lingonberry,
on her happy little steps,
with her pretty little hands.

She went over one hill, then another,
and on the third hill
found the little berry on the hillside,
the red lingonberry on the heath.

She went to the ridge of the hill
and spoke these words:
"The berry is fair to look on,
the lingonberry a joy to behold,
too high to eat from the ground,
too low to lift onto a bush."

She broke a branch from the heath,
a stout pine from the hill,
with it pushed the berry to the ground,
the berry settled to the ground.

Then the berry rose from the ground
onto her beautiful shoes,
from her beautiful shoes
onto her pure knees,
from her pure knees
into her fair lap.

It rose from there to her belt-ribbons,
from her belt-ribbons to her breast,
from her breast to her chin,
from her chin to her lips.
On her lips it danced,
then rolled into her mouth,
tumbled onto her tongue,
from her tongue to her throat,
and from there slipped into her belly.

Low Mary the maiden,
holy maid so small,
from that she was contented, from that she was filled,
from that she grew heavy with child.

II. The Rejection

She carried a hard womb,
a painful fullness of belly,
seven months and eight,
around nine months,
by the old reckoning of women,
half of the tenth month.

Her mother wondered at this:
"What ails our Marjatta,
what ails our homely hen,
that she lives without her clasps,
always loosening her belt,
loosening her skirt!"

In the tenth month
the maiden comes to her pains,
her womb turns hard,
her belly's fullness grows terrible.

She asked her mother for a bathhouse:
"Give me a bathhouse, mother,
where I, wretched, might find comfort,
where I sorely need help!"

Her mother answered sharply:
"There's a bathhouse on the burn-hill,
where the harlot gets her sons,
where the fire-slut bears her children —
go to the den of whelps,
to the head of the gravel-mare's trough."

The maid is already in her pangs —
where to go, where to turn,
where to ask for a bathhouse —
she spoke these words:
"Piltti, smallest of my maids,
best of my servants!
Go and ask for a bathhouse in the village,
a sauna from Sara's place,
where I, wretched, might find comfort,
where I sorely need help —
go quickly, make haste,
more haste is needed."

Piltti, smallest of her maids,
spoke these words:
"From whom shall I ask for a bathhouse,
from whom shall I seek help?"

"Ask for Ruotus's bathhouse,
a sauna from the Sara-mouth!"

Piltti, smallest of her maids,
best of her servants,
good and quick without command,
light without praise,
gathered up her hems,
bundled up her clothes by hand,
ran as fast as she could,
ran to Ruotus's home.
Hills thundered as she went,
ridges bent as she climbed,
pine-cones jumped on the heath,
gravel scattered on the marsh.
She came to Ruotus's cottage,
got inside the log house.

Ugly Ruotus of Paitula —
eating, drinking, feasting,
at the head of the table on his shirtsleeves,
in his very linens,
eating, drinking like a great man,
living in the manner of the rich.

Ruotus spoke from his meal,
snapped from his table:
"What do you want, wretch,
why do you run about, miserable one?"

Piltti, smallest of maids,
spoke these words:
"I came to seek a bathhouse from the village,
a sauna from Sara's place,
where a wretched one might find comfort,
where one sorely needs help."

Ugly Ruotus's wife
swept about in the doorway,
shuffled across the middle of the floor,
spoke these words:
"For whom do you ask for a bathhouse,
for whom do you seek help?"

Said Piltti, the small maid:
"I ask for our Marjatta."

Ugly Ruotus's wife
put her hands on her hips,
on both sides,
and spoke these words:
"No bathhouses are free in the village,
no saunas from Sara's mouth;
there's a stable on Tapiola-hill,
a horse-house in the pines,
where the slut bears her children,
where the fire-harlot gets her boys —
when the horse breathes,
that's her bathhouse!"

Piltti, smallest of maids,
ran as fast as she could
from ugly Ruotus's home,
said when she returned:
"There is no bathhouse in the village,
no sauna from Sara's place.
Ugly Ruotus of Paitula
was eating and drinking at the head of the table,
at the head on his shirtsleeves,
in his very linens.
He spoke these words:
'What do you want, wretch,
why do you run about, miserable one?'

I spoke with these words:
'I came to seek a bathhouse from the village,
a sauna from Sara's place,
where a wretched one might find comfort,
where one sorely needs help.'

Ugly Ruotus's wife
swept about in the doorway,
shuffled across the middle of the floor,
spoke these words:
'For whom do you ask for a bathhouse,
for whom do you seek help?'

I spoke with these words:
'I ask for our Marjatta.'

Ugly Ruotus's wife
put her hands on her hips,
on both sides,
spoke these words:
'No bathhouses are free in the village,
no saunas from Sara's mouth;
there's a stable on Tapiola-hill,
a horse-house in the pines,
where the slut bears her children,
where the fire-harlot gets her boys —
when the horse breathes,
that's her bathhouse!'"

So she said, even so,
so indeed she answered.

Low Mary the maiden,
holy maid so small,
still in the fire of her pains,
in the hard torments of her belly,
spoke these words:
"I must go,
like any common woman,
or a hired slave,
go to Tapiola-hill,
walk to the pine-wood heap!"

III. The Nativity

She took a birch-switch for her shade,
began to walk,
climbed the hill of pain,
scaled the mountain of agony,
to the dwelling among the pines,
to the stable on Tapiola-hill.

When she had gotten there,
at last arrived,
she spoke these words:
"Breathe, good horse,
sigh, draught-foal,
through this belly of suffering!
Steam a bathhouse steam,
send a warm sauna,
where I, wretched, might find comfort,
where I sorely need help."

The good horse breathed,
the draught-foal sighed,
through the belly of suffering.
What the horse breathed out
became the sauna's steam,
water cast, innocent;
it was like steam poured,
like water thrown on the stones.

Low Mary the maiden,
holy maid so small,
bathed her fill of the bath,
in the steam of the belly's power;
she delivered her son there
into the hay of the summer barn —
a son was born upon her knees,
a child upon her lap.

At Christmas God was born,
the finest son in the frost,
into the fox's hay-house,
at the head of the gravel-mare's trough.
The ox spread straw,
the pig rooted in the chaff,
to cover the little boy,
to shelter the Almighty.

At Christmas God was born,
the finest son in the frost;
the moon rose, the day dawned,
the beloved sun awoke,
the stars of heaven danced,
the Great Bear kept festival,
at the birth of the great Creator,
when the highest grace was opened.

Tahvanus the stable-servant
dismounted to the ground,
looked at the ground for earthly faults,
looked at the water for water's faults;
saw no faults in the earth,
nor any faults in the water.
"Why do you snort, raven's fodder,
why do you whinny, Hiisi's horse!
There are no faults in the earth,
nor any faults in the water."

"This is why I snort, raven's fodder,
why I whinny, Hiisi's horse:
there is a new star in the sky,
a speck in the gap between clouds."

Tahvanus the stable-servant
cast his eyes to the east,
looked toward the northwest,
looked across the whole sky's rim;
he saw the star in heaven,
the speck among the clouds.

Then the fox ran up before him:
"Poor fox, wretched boy!
You are light on your feet
and swift in your running;
go now and see
beyond the copper ridge,
whence the star was born for us,
whence the new moon gleamed!"

The fox ran as fast as he could,
swiftly ran the long distances,
quickly covered the gaps,
behind the copper ridge.
A shepherd came to meet him,
and the fox spoke these words:
"O you poor shepherd!
Could you tell me
whence the star was born for us,
the new star in heaven?"

The shepherd spoke these words:
"Indeed I know, indeed I can tell;
the star was born for us,
the new star in heaven,
because God has been born,
the highest grace has been opened."

"Where was God born,
where was the highest grace opened?"

"There God was born,
the highest grace was opened,
in Bethlehem the small;
God's son was born
into the horse's hay-house,
at the head of the gravel-mare's trough,
upon sedge rushes,
upon frost-bitten swaddlings.
There she brought forth God,
there the Creator placed her son;
she would not trade her son
for copper to be cast,
for silver to be burnished,
for gold to be gleaming,
not for the moon or the day,
not for the beloved sun."

Poor fox, wretched boy,
came back from yonder,
from behind the copper ridge,
brought the news as he came:
"The star was born for us,
the new star in heaven,
because God's son was born,
the highest grace was opened.
The Creator placed her son
in the hay beside the horses,
upon sedge rushes,
upon frost-bitten swaddlings;
she would not trade her son
for copper to be cast,
for silver to be burnished,
for gold to be gleaming,
not for the moon or the day,
not for the beloved sun."

Tahvanus the stable-servant
led the horse to the stable,
threw hay before it,
spread the broadcloth blanket,
tied the silk girths.

He went into Ruotus's cottage,
stood in the doorway,
halted at the threshold.

Ugly Ruotus of Paitula —
eating, drinking, feasting,
at the head of the table on his shirtsleeves,
in his very linens.

Ruotus spoke from his meal,
snapped from his table:
"Wash your hands, come and eat,
feed Ruotus's horses!"

Tahvanus the stable-servant —
he spoke these words:
"Never in all my long days,
never while the golden moon shines,
will I feed Ruotus's horses,
tend his stubborn nags;
let Ruotus himself feed them
from this day forward —
a better birth has been born,
a fairer power has arisen.
God has been born,
the highest grace has been opened,
I saw the star in heaven,
the speck among the clouds."

V. The Three Miracles

Ruotus spoke from his meal,
snapped from his table:
"Then your truths will come true,
your oaths prove honest,
when that ox bellows,
when that skull rattles,
that lies as bones on the floor,
its meat eaten, its bones gnawed,
its hide worn as shoes,
trodden all winter long."

The ox rose up and bellowed,
the skull began to rattle,
rose with its tail swinging,
its hooves stamping the ground.

Tahvanus the stable-servant —
he spoke these words:
"Are my truths true now,
are my oaths honest?
Has God been born,
has the highest grace been opened? —
the ox rose up and bellowed,
the skull began to rattle."

Ruotus spoke from his meal,
snapped from his table:
"Then your truths will come true,
your oaths prove honest,
when that rooster crows,
when that cockerel calls,
that lies as a roast on the dish,
its meat basted in butter,
with its feathers moulted,
with its limbs stiffened."

The rooster rose up and crowed,
the cockerel began to call,
rattling on its bones,
ruffling its feathers.

Tahvanus the stable-servant —
he spoke these words:
"Are my truths true now,
are my oaths honest?
Has God been born,
has the highest grace been opened? —
the rooster rose up and crowed,
the cockerel began to call."

Ugly Ruotus of Paitula
threw his knife into the floor,
spoke these words,
snapped with this snap:
"Then your truths will come true,
your oaths prove honest,
when this knife sprouts shoots,
that I struck into the floor,
that has been whittled for a year,
carried two years in its sheath —
when the knife's tip sprouts shoots,
and the shoots put forth leaves."

The knife's tip began to sprout,
the shoots began to put forth leaves;
it sprouted six shoots,
a golden leaf on each tip.

Tahvanus the stable-servant —
he spoke these words:
"Are my truths true now,
are my oaths honest?
Has God been born,
has the highest grace been opened? —
the knife's tip has sprouted,
that you struck into the floor.
And the rooster has crowed,
that lay as a roast on the dish.
And the ox has bellowed,
that lay as bones on the floor.
Now I forsake Ruotus,
I flee from the pagan brood,
I take my faith from Jesus,
my baptism from the Almighty."

At this the great man raged,
Ruotus became cruel,
he sent a fiery army
against the neck of the Almighty;
a hundred men with swords,
a thousand iron warriors,
rushing to slay the Creator,
to destroy the Almighty.

VI. The Loss

Low Mary the maiden,
holy maid so small,
hid her son,
sheltered her beautiful one,
beneath the grinding stone,
beneath the running sled,
beneath the sifting sieve,
beneath the carried tub.
In her lap she fed him,
in her hands she turned him.

She laid the boy on her knees,
the child upon her lap,
began to comb his head,
to brush his hair,
with a silver comb,
a gold-handled brush;
from the comb a tooth flew,
a prong broke from the brush.

She bent down to search,
to catch the prong —
the boy vanished from her knees,
the child from her lap.

There Hiisi's stallion whinnied,
the evil horse snorted.

"Why do you whinny, Hiisi's stallion,
why do you snort, evil horse?"

"This is why I whinny, Hiisi's stallion,
this is why I snort, evil horse:
your son has been taken from your knees,
your child from your lap."

Low Mary the maiden,
holy maid so small,
came to grief at this,
wept and lamented.

She sought her little son
but did not find her son,
her golden apple,
her silver staff.

She searched the hills, the pine groves,
the stumps, the heather,
looked behind every juniper,
parted every thicket,
examined the heather-roots,
straightened the branches of the trees.

Walking in thought,
moving with bent back —
the Road came to meet her.
She bowed to the Road:
"O Road, God's creation!
Have you not seen my son,
my golden apple,
my silver staff?"

The Road spoke thus:
"Had I seen, I would not tell;
your son made me too,
made me for ill, not for good,
for hard shoes to walk on,
for heels to scrape me,
for every dog to run on,
for riders to ride over."

Walking in thought,
moving with bent back —
the Star came to meet her.
She bowed to the Star:
"O Star, God's creation!
Have you not seen my son,
my golden apple,
my silver staff?"

The Star spoke thus:
"Had I seen, I would not tell;
your son made me too,
made me for ill, not for good,
to vanish in summer,
to be born in autumn,
to glitter in the cold,
to flicker in the dark."

Walking in thought,
moving with bent back —
the Moon came to meet her.
She bowed to the Moon:
"O Moon, God's creation!
Have you not seen my son,
my golden apple,
my silver staff?"

The Moon spoke thus:
"Had I seen, I would not tell;
your son made me too,
made me for ill, not for good,
to sink in the morning,
to rise in the evening,
to walk alone in the nights,
to shine in the frost."

Walking in thought,
moving with bent back —
the Sun came to meet her.
She bowed to the Sun:
"O Sun, God's creation!
Have you not seen my son,
my golden apple,
my silver staff?"

The Sun answered wisely:
"Both I saw and I heard;
your son made me too,
made me for good, not for ill,
to rise in the morning,
to sink in the evening,
to rest through the night,
to shine through the day.

I did see your son —
alas, your poor son!
Your poor son has already
been lost, been killed,
the Creator laid beneath a weight,
the Lord struck into a grave."

VIII. The Passion and the Sun's Mercy

And so we poor sons
always remember other things,
occupy ourselves with trifles,
but this we never truly grasp —
the great death of God,
the destruction of the Almighty,
how the Creator was killed,
how the Almighty was destroyed,
when he was struck into a grave,
when the Creator was laid beneath a weight.

The devils were punished,
the evil powers were tormented,
with a hundred spear-points,
with a thousand sword-edges.
The Creator was nailed to a tree,
hung upon a cross;
there he was put to death.
Dead he was taken from the tree,
struck down, buried,
between two cliffs.
Mountains were placed over him,
stones heaped upon him;
a hundred men with swords,
a thousand iron warriors,
with bloodshot eyes,
at the Creator's graveside;
a hundred men with swords,
a thousand shield-bearers,
as shepherds of the Creator's grave,
as guards of the Almighty.

Virgin Mary the mother,
blessed mother, merciful,
wept and lamented,
mourned and wailed,
walked along the road
to the Creator's graveside:
"Rise, Creator, from death,
cease your dreaming;
rise young from death,
beautiful from destruction!
If you will not rise, will not wake,
I too shall come soon,
to die beside you,
to perish with you."

The Lord awoke from the grave,
the Creator spoke these words:
"There is no rising from here,
no easier than the getting here;
stones below, rocks above,
on both sides,
gravel against my heart,
sand against my shoulders."

Virgin Mary the mother,
blessed mother, merciful,
bowed to the Sun:
"O Sun, God's creation,
creation of our Creator's light!
Shine one moment in heat,
a second in dim warmth,
a third with all your edge —
shine the rocks soft,
melt the stones to salt,
draw the gravel into water,
pour the sand into foam,
free the Creator from death,
wake the Lord from the grave!"

The Sun, God's creation,
the Sun, beloved daystar,
flew like a headless hen,
fluttered like a wing-broken bird,
to the Creator's graveside,
to the Almighty's chamber.

A hundred men with swords,
a thousand shield-bearers,
set as the Creator's shepherds,
as the Almighty's guards —
they asked the Sun,
begged the daystar:
"Sun, beloved daystar,
why have you come here?"

The Sun answered wisely,
the beloved daystar spoke:
"I came to look upon the Creator,
to see him from up close,
how the Creator was killed,
how the Lord was struck into a grave."

Then the Sun, God's creation,
creation of our Creator's light,
shone one moment in heat,
a second in dim warmth,
a third with all his edge.
He put the sullen people to sleep,
pressed down the pagan host —
the young ones leaning on their swords,
the old ones against their staffs,
the middle-aged upon their spears.
He shone the rocks soft,
melted the stones to salt,
drew the gravel into water,
poured the sand into foam,
freed the Creator from death,
from the destruction of the Almighty.

The Creator awoke from the grave,
the Lord rose from sleep,
reached the graveside,
rose up from the pit.
The stones then sang with tongues,
the rocks spoke with words,
rivers chanted, lakes trembled,
the copper mountains shook,
when God's hour came,
when the Lord's grace was opened.

The Creator rose from death,
ceased his dreaming,
drew himself to a water-stone
to bathe his body of suffering,
to wash away his blood,
to rinse away his wounds.

Then the Sun, God's creation,
creation of our Creator's light,
flew wisely to heaven,
to his former place,
released the men from sleep,
the wicked from their rest.

IX. Judas and the Chain

The wicked forge chains,
prepare nails,
to strike the Creator into fetters,
to lock him in iron locks,
so he cannot escape,
cannot go anywhere,
from his hewn grave,
from his dug pit.

The Creator walks, strides,
went a short distance,
heard pounding from a smithy,
went as a poor man into the smithy,
as a questioner to the threshold.
Here the iron-workers are forging,
the smiths of Hiisi are hammering.
He went into the smiths' forge:
"What are the iron-workers forging,
what are the smiths of Hiisi hammering?"

That is cruel Judas,
worst of wicked sons,
most vile of father's brood —
he spoke these words:
"I forge a fetter for the Creator,
a chain-rope for God;
but I forgot to measure
how thick the Creator's neck is,
how thick, how long,
how wide across."

Then God's famous son
spoke these words:
"The Creator's neck is that thick,
that thick and that long,
and that wide across,
as your own neck."

Cruel Judas said,
worst of wicked sons,
most vile of father's brood:
"How do you know the Creator's neck,
how thick, how long,
how wide across?"

God's famous son
spoke these words:
"I was there too,
at the Creator's graveside.
I watched from behind a stump,
I peered from the thicket."

Cruel Judas said,
worst of wicked sons,
most vile of father's brood:
"Your jaw is broad,
jaw broad, eyes large,
your eyelashes so long —
like yesterday's God,
whom we struck to the ground,
struck down and buried."

God's famous son
spoke these words:
"My jaw is broad for this reason,
broad jaw, large eyes,
my eyelashes so long —
I grew long on the heath,
grew behind a stump,
in the shelter of a great stone."

That is cruel Judas,
worst of wicked sons,
most vile of father's brood —
he spoke these words:
"Oh, you are very knowing,
understanding above others!"

God's famous son
spoke these words:
"I am very knowing for this reason,
understanding above others —
I looked long into the mouth of the devourer,
into the beard of the crumb-eater."

Cruel Judas said,
worst of wicked sons,
most vile of father's brood:
"Now the chain is ready,
but I cannot measure
my own neck —
how long, how thick,
how wide across;
my hands cannot reach,
nor can my fingers manage."

God's famous son
spoke these words:
"If you let me measure,
I could measure it —
my hands can reach,
and my fingers can manage."

That is cruel Judas,
worst of wicked sons,
most vile of father's brood —
he spoke these words:
"If I let you measure,
don't lock it in a lock,
don't press it in a clasp,
don't pinch it in tongs;
the lock has just been opened,
the key hasn't been found yet,
locks don't rattle in the hand,
hinges don't creak in the fingers."

He let the Creator measure
his own neck —
how long, how thick,
how wide across.

Then our great Creator,
our manifest God,
measured and assessed,
and locked it in the lock,
pressed it in the clasp,
and pinched it in the tongs.

He struck the base into the rock,
kicked the end into the stone,
nine fathoms deep,
an ell of the tenth:
"Stay there now, surface-dweller,
remain there, chain-wearer,
in the evil you have made,
in the fetter you have forged!"

That is cruel Judas,
worst of wicked sons,
most vile of father's brood —
now he saw destruction coming,
the day of distress upon him;
once he shrieked horribly,
a second time screamed dreadfully,
a third time exceedingly harshly.

Our great Creator said,
our manifest God:
"Shriek now the stone hard,
scream the iron harsh!
Stay there for all your days,
dwell there for all time,
until there is no moon, no sun,
no fair-faced day,
until there is no earth, no tree,
no people in the air.
From this day forward,
let stone be hard,
let all iron be harsh,
let the wind of heaven be cold!"

Then our great Creator,
our manifest God,
rose up into the air,
above the six patterned lids of the sky,
above the eight heavens,
to the ninth air,
to the place of God the Father,
to the chamber of the Almighty.
There he sits in judgement,
judges all the people,
hurls the wicked into the deep,
into terrible hell,
moves the good ones there,
leads them into heaven.

Colophon

Songs 5 and 6 from the Kanteletar taikka Suomen kansan wanhoja lauluja ja wirsiä (Kanteletar, or Old Songs and Hymns of the Finnish People), compiled by Elias Lönnrot and published in Helsinki, 1840. Book III (Kolmas Kirja): Virsi-Lauluja (Sacred Songs), Section I: Muinais-uskoisia (Ancient-Belief Songs).

Song 5, Mataleenan vesimatka (Mataleena's Water Journey), is a Finnish folk legend of Mary Magdalene — one of many European variants of the Encounter at the Well. Song 6, Neitsy Maarian virsi (The Virgin Mary's Hymn), is the longest poem in the entire Kanteletar at nearly a thousand lines and represents the complete Finnish folk gospel — the Annunciation, Nativity, Epiphany, Passion, Resurrection, and Harrowing — told in Kalevala metre by Finnish peasant singers who absorbed Christianity into the structures and images of their older religion. The berry-conception, the speaking celestial bodies, the fox as divine messenger, the Tapiola stable, Hiisi's stallion — all are pre-Christian Finnish elements woven into the Christian narrative. Lönnrot himself noted in his preface that the Neitsy Maarian virsi "from one side is empty gossip with not the slightest basis in the Bible," while from the other side "in its word-craft it is fine and beautiful" — showing that "the matter itself and the word-craft are different things."

No complete English translation of the Kanteletar exists in the public domain. Keith Bosley's 1992 Oxford World's Classics selection is in copyright and was not consulted. These translations are independently derived from the 1840 Finnish text as published by Project Gutenberg (EBook #7078, released December 2004, produced by Tapio Riikonen).

This translation completes Book III, Section I of the Kanteletar. Songs 1–4 (Suomettaren kosijat, Lyylikin hiihanta, Katrin parannus, and Viron orja ja isäntä) are translated in the companion file Sacred Songs from the Kanteletar.

Good Works Translation. Translated from the Finnish by the New Tianmu Anglican Church (Ilmatar, Uralic Alpha Translator), 2026.

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

🌲

Source Text: Kanteletar, Kolmas Kirja — Muinais-uskoisia, Virret 5–6

Finnish source text from Elias Lönnrot, Kanteletar taikka Suomen kansan wanhoja lauluja ja wirsiä (Helsinki, 1840). Project Gutenberg EBook #7078, produced by Tapio Riikonen. Public domain. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.

5. Mataleenan vesimatka.

Mataleena neito nuori
Kauan se kotona kasvoi,
Kauan kasvoi, kauas kuului,
Tykönä hyvän isänsä,
Kanssa armahan emonsa.
Palkin polki permannosta
Hänen korkokengillänsä,
Hirren kynnystä kulutti
Hänen hienohelmallansa,
Toisen hirren päänsä päältä
Hänen kultaruunullansa;
Rautaisen rahin kulutti
Astioita pestessänsä,
Kulman pöyästä kulutti
Hopiapäällä veitsellänsä.

Mataleena neito nuori
Meni vettä lähteheltä,
Kultakiulunen käessä,
Kultakorva kiulusessa.
Katseli kuvan sioa:
"Ohoh minua neito parka!
Pois on muoto muuttununna,
Kaunis karvani katonut;
Eipä kiillä rintakisko,
Eikä hohta päähopia,
Niinkun kiilti toiskesänä,
Vielä hohti mennä vuonna."

Kiesus paimenna pajussa,
Karjalaissa kaskimaissa,
Anoi vettä juoaksensa:
"Annas vettä juoakseni!"

"Ei oo mulla astiata,
Eik' oo kannuni kotona;
Pikarit pinona vieri,
Kannut halkona kalisi."

"Pistäspä pivosi täysi,
Kahmalossa kanniksella!"

"Mitäs puhut Suomen sulha,
Suomen sulha, maiten orja,
Isäni ikuinen paimen,
Ruotiruovoilla elänyt;
Kalanpäillä kasvaellut,
Karjalaissa kaskismaissa!"

"Sis mä lienen Suomen sulha,
Suomen sulha, maiten orja.
Isäsi ikuinen paimen,
Ruotiruovoilla elänyt,
Kalanpäillä kasvaellut,
Karjalaissa kaskismaissa;
Ellen elkesi sanelen."
"Sano kaikki, minkä tieät!"

"Kussas kolme poikalastas?--
Yhen tuiskasit tulehen,
Toisen vetkasit vetehen,
Kolmannen kaivoit karkeeseen.
Sen kun tuiskasit tulehen,
Siit' olis Ruotsissa ritari;
Sen kun vetkasit vetehen,
Siit' olis herra täällä maalla;
Sen kun kaivoit karkeesehen,
Siit' olis pappi paras tullut."

Mataleena neito nuori
Rupes vasta itkemähän,
Itki vettä kiulun täysi,
Kiesuksen jalat pesevi,
Hiuksillansa kuivoavi:
"Itsepä lienet Herra Kiesus,
Kun mun elkeni sanelit!
Pane minua Herra Kiesus,
Pane minua, minnes tahot,
Soihin, maihin portahiksi,
Porttojen polettavaksi,
Jaloin päällä käytäväksi!

Pane minua Herra Kiesus,
Pane minua, minnes tahot,
Silloiksi meren selälle
Lahopuiksi lainehille,
Joka tuulen turjotella,
Laajan lainehen laella!

Pane minua Herra Kiesus,
Pane minua, minnes tahot,
Tunge hiiliksi tulehen,
Kekäleiksi valkiahan,
Joka tulen tuikutella,
Valkiaisen vaikutella!"

6. Neitsy Maarian virsi.

Neitsy Maaria emonen,
Rakas äiti armollinen,
Viitiseksen, vaatiseksen,
Pääsomille suori'iksen,
Vaskipauloihin paneksen,
Tinavöihin telkitäksen,
Läksi pirtistä pihalle,
Kaapsahellen kartanolle.

Katselevi kartanolla,
Kuunteli kujan perällä,
Jopa marja maalta huuti,
Puolukainen kankahalta:
"Tule neiti noppimahan,
Punaposki poimimahan,
Tinarinta riipimähän,
Vyövaski valitsemahan,
Ennenkun etona syöpi,
Mato musta muikkoavi!
Sat' on saanut katsomahan,
Tuhat ilman istumahan,
Sata neittä, tuhat naista,
Lapsia epalukusin;
Ei ken koskisi minuhun,
Poimisi minun poloisen."

Maaria matala neiti,
Pyhä piika pikkarainen,
Läksi marjan katsantahan,
Punapuolan poimintahan,
Hyppisillähän hyvillä,
Kätösillä kaunehilla.

Meni mäen, meni toisen,
Niin mäellä kolmannella,
Keksi marjasen mäeltä,
Punapuolan kankahalta.

Niin meni mäen niskalle,
Itse tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"On marja näkemiähän,
Puola ilmon luomiahan,
Ylähähkö maasta syöä,
Alahahko puuhun nosta."

Tempoi kxaun kankahalta,
Mäeltä rasakan männyn,
Sillä marjan maahan sortoi,
Marja maahan seisataksen.

Niinpä marja maasta nousi
Kaunoisilte kautoloille,
Kaunoisilta kautoloilta,
Puhtahilte polviloille,
Puhtahilta polviloilta,
Heleville helmoillehen.

Nousi siitä vyörivoille,
Vyörivoilta ryntähille,
Ryntähiltä leuoillehen,
Leuoiltahan hnulillehen.
Huulilla hypertelihen,
Siitä suuhun pyörähytti,
Keikahutti kielellehen,
Kieleltä keruksihinsa,
Siitä vatsahan valahti.

Maaria matala neiti,
Pyhä piika pikkarainen,
Siitä tyytyi, siitä täytyi,
Siitä paksuksi panihen.

Kantoi kohtua kovoa,
Vatsan täyttä vaikiata,
Kuuta seitsemän kaheksan,
Ympäri yheksän kuuta,
Vaimon vanha'an lukuun,
Kuuta puolen kymmenettä.

Emo tuosta arvelevi:
"Mi on meiän Marjatalla,
Ku meiän kotikanalla,
Kun se pauloitta asuvi,
Aina vyöttä völlehtivi,
Hamehetta höllehtivi!"

Niin kuulla kymmenennellä,
Impi tuskalle tulevi,
Kohtu kääntyvi kovaksi,
Vatsantäysi vaikiaksi.

Kysyi kylpyä emolta:
"Anna kylpyä emoni,
Jossa huono hoivan saisin,
Avun ange tarvitseisin!"

Emo varsin vastoavi
"On kyly kytömäellä,
Johon portto pojat saapi,
Tulen lautta lapset luopi,
Tuonne pentujen pesähän,
Sorajouhen soimen päähän."

Jo on piika pintehissä
Minne mennä, kunne käyä,
Kusta kylpyä kysellä,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi:
"Piltti pienin piikojani,
Paras palkkalaisiani!
Käy'pä kylpyä kylästä,
Saunoa Sarajalasta,
Jossa huono hoivan saisin,
Avun ange tarvitseisin--
Käy pian, välehen jouvu,
Välehemmin tarvitahan."

Piltti pienin piikojahan,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi
"Keltäpä kysyn kylyä,
Keltä aihelen apua?"

"Kysy Ruotuksen kylyä,
Saunoa Sarajansuista!"

Piltti pienin piikojahan,
Paras palkkalaisiahan,
Hyvä kiekas käskemättä,
Kehumattaki kepiä,
Koprin helmansa kokosi,
Käsin kääri vaattehensa,
Sekä juoksi, jotta joutui,
Juoksi Ruotuksen kotihin.
Mäet mätkyi mennessähän,
Vaarat notkui noustessahan,
Kävyt hyppi kankahalla,
Someret hajosi suolla,
Tuli Ruotuksen tupahan,
Sai sisähän salvoksehen.

Ruma Ruotus Paitulainen
Syöpi, juopi, kestoavi,
Päässä pöyän paioillahan,
Aivan aivinaisillahan,
Syöpi, juopi suurten lailla,
Elävi hyvän tavalla.

Lausui Ruotus ruoaltansa,
Tiuskoi tiskinsä nojalta:
"Mitä sie sanot katala,
Kuta kurja juoksentelet?"

Piltti pienin piikasia,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi
"Läksin kylpyä kylästä,
Saunoa Sarajalasta,
Jossa huono hoivan saisi,
Avun ange tarvitseisi."

Ruma Ruotuksen emäntä
Liehoi sillan liitoksella,
Laahoi keskilattialla,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi:
"Kellen kylpyä kyselet,
Kellen aihelet apua?"

Sanoi Piltti, pieni piika:
"Kysyn meiän Marjatalle."

Ruma Ruotuksen emäntä
Käet puuskahan panevi,
Kupehelle kummallenki,
Itse virkk, noin nimesi:
"Ei kylyt kylähän joua,
Ei saunat Sarajan suulta;
On talli Tapiomäellä,
Hepohuone hongikossa,
Johon lautta lapset luopi,
Tuliportto poiat saapi--
Kun heponen hengännevi,
Niinp' on siinä kylpeöte!"

Piltti pienin piikasia
Sekä juoksi, jotta joutui,
Ruman Ruotuksen ko'ista,
Sanoi taatse tultuansa:
"Eule kylpyä kylässä,
Saunoa Sarajalassa.
Ruma Ruotus Paitulainen
Söip' on, joip' on pöyän päässä,
Pääsä pöyän paioillahan,
Aivan aivinaisillahan.
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi:
Mitä sie sanot katala,
Kuta kurja juoksentelet?

Mie sanoin sanalla tuolla:
Läksin kylpyä kylästä,
Saunoa Sarajalasta,
Jossa huono hoivan saisi,
Avun ange tarvitseisi.

Ruma Ruotuksen emäntä
Liehoi sillan liitoksella,
Laahoi keskilattialla,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi:
Kellenpä kysyt kylyä,
Kellen aihelet apua?

Mie sanoin sanalla tuolla:
Kysyn meiän Marjatalle.

Ruma Ruotuksen emäntä
Pani puuskahan kätensä,
Kupehelle kummallenki,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi:
Ei kylyt kylähän joua,
Ei saunat Sarajan suulta;
On talli Tapiomäellä,
Hepohuone hongikossa,
Johon lautta lapset luopi,
Tuliportto poiat saapi--
Kun heponen hengännevi,
Niinp' on siinä kylpeöte!"

Niinp' on, niin sanoi mokomin,
Niinpä vainen vastaeli.

Maaria matala neiti,
Pyhä piika pikkarainen,
Aina tuskansa tulessa,
Vatsan vaivoissa kovissa,
Itse tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Lähteä minun tulevi,
Niinkun muinenki kasakan,
Eli orjan palkkalaisen,
Lähteä Tapiomäelle,
Käyä hongikkokeolle!"

Otti vastan varjoksensa,
Astua alottelevi,
Nousevi kipumäkeä,
Kipuvuorta kiipueli,
Huonehesen hongikolle,
Tallihin Tapiomäelle.

Sitte sinne saatuansa,
Toki päästyä perille,
Sanovi sanolla tuolla:
"Henkeäs hyvä heponen,
Huokoas vetäjä varsa,
Vatsan kautta vaivaloisen!
Kylylöyly löyhäytä,
Sauna lämpöinen lähetä,
Jossa huono hoivan saisin
Avun ange tarvitseisin."

Henkäsi hyvä heponen,
Huokasi vetäjä varsa,
Vatsan kautta vaivaloisen.
Min heponen hengähtävi,
Se on luotu saunanlöyly,
Vesi viskattu viaton;
On kun löyly lyötäessä,
Viskattaessa vetonen.

Maaria matala neiti,
Pyhä piika pikkarainen,
Kylpi kylyn kyllältänsä,
Vatsan löylyn vallaltansa;
Saip' on tuonne poikuensa
Heinille kesäteoille--
Syntyi poika polvillehen,
Lapsi lantehuisillehen.

Jouluna Jumala syntyi,
Paras poika pakkasella,
Revon heinihuonehesen,
Sorajouhen soimen päähän.
Härkä olkia levitti,
Sika penkoi pehkuloita,
Poian pienen peitteheksi,
Katteheksi kaikkivallan.

Jouluna Jumala syntyi,
Paras poika pakkasella;
Nousi kuu, yleni päivä,
Armas aurinko havatsi,
Tähet taivon tanssaeli,
Otavat piti iloa,
Syntyessä suuren luojan,
Yli armon auetessa.

Tahvanus on tallirenki
Ruman Ruotuksen talossa,
Ruokki Ruotuksen hevoista,
Kaitsi tallikonkaria.
Vei hän juomalle hevosen,
Kaivolle katetun ruunan,
Loimiselän lähtehelle;
Lähe läikkyi, hepo kuorsui.

Tahvanus on tallirenki
Läksi maahan ratsahilta,
Katsoi maasta maan vikoja,
Katsoi veestä veen vikoja;
Nähnyt ei maassa maan vikoja,
Eikä veessä veen vikoja.
"Mitä kuorsut korpin ruoka,
Hirnut Hiisien heponen!
Ei ole maassa maan vikoja,
Eikä veessä veen vikoja."

"Sitä kuorsun korpin ruoka,
Hirnun Hiisien heponen:
Uus' on tähti taivahalla,
Pilkku pilvien raossa."

Tahvanus on tallirenki
Iski silmänsä itähän,
Katsoi päin luotehesen,
Katsoi kaiken ilman rannan;
Näki tähen taivahalla,
Pilkun pilvien lomassa.

Niin repo etehen juoksi:
"Repo rukka, raukka poika!
Sie olet kengältä kepiä,
Sekä liukas liikunnalta;
Käy nyt tuota katsomahan
Vaaran vaskisen takoa,
Mistä meille tähti syntyi,
Kusta uusi kuu kumotti!"

Repo juoksi. jotta joutui,
Pian juoksi matkat pitkät,
Välehen välit samosi,
Vaaran vaskisen ta'aksi.

Paimen vastahan tulevi,
Niin repo sanoiksi virkki:
"Oi sie rukka paimoseni!
Tokko tietäisit sanoa,
Mistä meille tähti syntyi,
Uusi tähti taivahalle."

Tuon paimo sanoiksi virkki:
"Jopa tieän, jotta tunnen;
Siitä meille tähti syntyi,
Uusi tähti taivahalle,
Kun on syntynyt Jumala,
Yliarmo auennunna."

"Miss' on syntynyt Jumala,
Yliarmo auennunna?"

"Tuoll' on syntynyt Jumala,
Yliarmo auennunna,
Veitlihimassa vähässä;
Syntynyt Jumalan poika
Hevon heinähuonehesen,
Sorajouhen soimen päähän,
Vihviläisille saroille,
Kakaroille kylmenneille.
Sinne synnytti Jumala,
Pani luoja poikuensa;
Ei vaihtaisi poiuttansa
Vaskihin valettavihin,
Hopioihin hohtavihin,
Kultihin kumottavihin,
Eikä kuuhun, päivyehen,
Aurinkoisehen hyvähän."

Repo rukka, raukka poika,
Jo tuli takaisin tuolta,
Vaaran vaskisen takoa,
Toi sanoman tullessansa:
"Siitä meille tähti nousi,
Uusi tähti taivahalle,
Kun syntyi Jumalan poika,
Aukesi ylinen armo.
Pannut on luoja poikuensa
Heinille hevosten luoksi,
Vihviläisille saroille,
Kakaroille kylmenneille;
Ei vaihtaisi poiuttansa
Vaskihin valettavihin,
Hopioihin hohtavihin,
Kultihin kumottavihin,
Eikä kuuhun, päivyehen,
Aurinkoisehen hyvähän."

Tahvanus on tallirenki
Veip' on tallihin hevosen,
Heitti heiniä etehen,
Levitteli verkalointa,
Siotteli silkkivöitä.

Meni Ruotuksen tupahan,
Seisatteli oven suussa,
Pysähteli partten päässä.

Ruma Ruotus Paitulainen
Syöpi, juopi, kestoavi,
Päässä pöyyn paioillahan,
Aivan aivinaisillahan.

Lausui Ruotus ruoaltansa,
Tiuskoi tiskinsä nojasta:
"Pese kättä, käy ruoalle,
Ruoki Ruotuksen hevoista!"

Tahvanus on tallirenki,
Hänpä tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"En sinä pitkänä ikänä,
Kuuna kullan valkiana,
Ruoki Ruotuksen hevoista,
Kaitse kiivan konkaria;
Itse Ruotus ruokkikohon
Tämän päivyen perästä--
Jo syntyi parempi synty,
Kasvoi valta kaunihimpi.
Jopa on syntynyt Jumala,
Yliarmo auennunna,
Näin mä tähen taivahalla,
Pilkun pilvien lomassa."

Lausui Ruotus ruoaltansa,
Tiuskoi tiskinsä nojasta:
"Äsken on toet totesi,
Valehettomat valasi,
Kun tuo härkä ammonevi,
Pääpönttä pölöttänevi,
Jok' on luina lattialla,
Liha syöty, luu kaluttu,
Kesi kenkinä pietty,
Talvikausi tallaeltu."

Nousipa härkä ammomahan,
Pääpönttä pölöttämähän,
Nousi hännin häilymähän,
Sorkin maata sotkemahan.

Tahvanus on tallirenki,
Hänpä tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Onko jo toet toteni,
Valehettomat valani?
Joko on syntynyt Jumala,
Yliarmo auennunna?--
Nousipa härkä ammomahan,
Pääpönttä pölöttämähän."

Lausui Ruotus ruoaltansa,
Tiuskoi tiskinsä nojasta:
"Äsken on toet totesi,
Valehettomat valasi,
Kun tuo kukko laulanevi,
Kananpoika kaikkunevi,
Jok' on paistina vaissa,
Liha voilla voieltuna,
Höyhenillä höykenneillä,
Jäsenillä jäykenneillä."

Nousipa kukko laulamahan,
Kananpoika kaikkumahan,
Luillansa luhisemahan,
Höyhenillä höykkimähän.

Tahvanus on tallirenki,
Hänpä tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Onko jo toet toteni,
Valehettomat valani?
Joko on syntynyt Jumala,
Yliarmo auennunna?--
Nousipa kukko laulamahan,
Kananpoika kaikkumahan."

Ruma Ruotus Paitulainen
Viskoi veitsen lattiahan,
Sanovi sanalla tuolla,
Tiuskoi tuolla tiuskehella:
"Äsken on toet totesi,
Valehettomat valasi,
Kun veitsi vesottunevi,
Jonka siltahan sivalsin,
Jot' on vuosi vuoliskeltu,
Kaksi kannettu tupessa
Veitsenpää vesottunevi,
Ja vesat lehittynevi."

Alkoipa veitsenpää vesota,
Vesat lehtiä lykätä;
Vesosi vesoa kuusi,
Kultalehen kunki päähän.

Tahvanus on tallirenki,
Hänpä tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Onko jo toet toteni,
Valehettomat valani?
Joko on syntynyt Jumala,
Yliarmo auennunna?--
Jopa on veitsenpää vesonna,
Jonka siltahan sivallit,
Sekä kukko laulanunna,
Jok' oli paistina vaissa.
Viel' on härkä ammonunna,
Jok' oli luina lattialla.
Jo nyt luovun Ruotuksesta,
Pakenen pakanan väistä,
Otan uskon Kiesuksesta,
Kastin kaikkivaltiasta."

Tuosta suuttui suuri miesi,
Ruotus julmaksi rupesi,
Suoritti soan tulisen,
Päälle kaulan kaikkivallan;
Sata miestä miekallista,
Tuhat rauaista urosta,
Luojan surmaksi sukesi,
Katomaksi kaikkivallan.

Maaria matala neiti,
Pyhä piika pikkarainen,
Piiletteli poiuttansa,
Kasvatteli kaunoistansa,
Alla jauhavan kivosen,
Alla juoksevan jalaksen,
Alla seulan seulottavan,
Alla korvon kannettavan,
Sylissähän syöttelevi,
Käsissähän kääntelevi.

Laski poian polvillensa,
Lapsen lannehuisillensa,
Alkoi päätänsä sukia,
Hapsiansa harjaella,
Hopiaisella sualla,
Kultavarsi harjasella;
Suastansa pii pirahti,
Taimen taittui harjastansa.

Rapasihen etsimähän,
Taimenta tavottamahan,
Katoi poika polviltahan,
Lapsi lanne'puoliltahan.

Tuossa hirnui Hiitten ruuna,
Päräsi pahan heponen.

"Mitä hirnut Hiitten ruuna,
Päräjät pahan heponen?"--

"Sitä hirnun Hiitten ruuna,
Päräjän pahan heponen,
Viety on poika polviltasi,
Lapsi lanne'puoliltasi."

Maaria matala neiti,
Pyhä piika pikkarainen,
Tuosta tuskille tulevi,
Itkeä kujertelevi.

Rapasihen etsimähän,
Etsi pientä poiuttansa,
Kullaista omenuttansa,
Hopiaista sauoansa,
Alta jauhavan kivosen,
Alta juoksevan jalaksen,
Alta seulan seulottavan,
Alta korvon kannettavan,
Puiten puut, jaellen ruohot,
Hajotellen hienot heinät.

Etsi pientä poiuttansa,
Eipä löyä poiuttansa,
Kullaista omenuttansa,
Hopiaista sauoansa.

Etsi mäiltä, männiköiltä,
Kannoilta, kanarvikoilta,
Katsovi joka katajan,
Joka varvikon vatovi,
Katsovi kanarvajuuret,
Ojenteli puien oksat.

Astua ajattelevi,
Käyä kääpäröittelevi:
Tiehyt vastahan tulevi,
Niin tielle kumarteleksen:
"Oi tiehyt Jumalan luoma!
Etkö nähnyt poiuttani,
Kullaista omenuttani,
Hopiaista sauoani?"

Noin se tiehyt lausueli:
"Oisin nähnyt, en sanoisi;
Poikasipa loi minunki,
Loi pahoille, ei hyville,
Kovan kengän käytäväksi,
Kannan karskuteltavaksi,
Joka koiran juostavaksi,
Ratsahan ajeltavaksi."

Astua ajattelevi,
Käyä kääpäröittelevi;
Tähti vastahan tulevi,
Tähelle kumarteleksen:
"Oi tähyt Jumalan luoma!
Etkö nähnyt poiuttani,
Kullaista omenuttani,
Hopiaista sauoani?"

Noin se tähti lausueli:
"Oisin nähnyt, en sanoisi;
Poikasipa loi minunki,
Loi pahoille, ei hyville,
Kesäksi katoamahan,
Sykysyllä syntymähän,
Kylmillä kimaltamahan,
Pimehillä pilkkumahan."

Astua ajattelevi,
Käyä kääpäröittelevi;
Kuuhut vastahan tulevi,
Niin kuulle kumarteleksen:
"Oi kuuhut Jumalan luoma!
Etkö nähnyt poiuttani,
Kullaista omenuttani,
Hopiaista sauoani?"

Noin se kuuhut lausueli:
"Oisin nähnyt, en sanoisi;
Poikasipa loi minunki,
Loi pahoille, ei hyville,
Aaamulla alenemahan,
Illalla ylenemähän,
Yksin öillä kulkemahan,
Pakkasella paistamahan."

Astua ajattelevi,
Käyä kääpäröittelevi;
Päivä vastahan tulevi,
Päivälle kumarteleksen:
"Oi päivyt Jumalan luoma!
Etkö nähnyt poiuttani,
Kullaista omenuttani,
Hopiaista sauoani?"

Päivä taiten vastaeli:
"Sekä näin, jotta kuulin;
Poikasipa loi minunki,
Loi hyville, ei pahoille,
Aamulla ylenemähän,
Illalla alenemahan,
Yön aian lepeämähän,
Päivän aian paistamahan.

Jopa näinki poikuesi,
Voi poloinen poiuttasi!
Jo on poikasi poloinen
Kaotettu, kuoletettu,
Pantu luoja painon alle,
Herra hautahan hakattu."--

Niinpä me pojat poloiset
Aina muita muistelemma,
Jouvittelemma jotaki,
Tuot emme tokahi'kana,
Suuren surmoa Jumalan,
Katomusta kaikkivallan,
Kuin on luoja kuoletettu,
Kaotettu kaikkivalta,
Kun on hautahan hakattu,
Pantu luoja painon alle.

Pirulaiset piinattihin,
Paha valta vaivattihin,
Saan keihään kärellä,
Tuhannen terällä miekan.
Luoja puuhun puntattihin,
Ristihin ripustettihin,
Siinä häntä surmattihin,
Kuollut puusta laskettihin,
Hakattihin, hauattihin,
Kahen kallion lomahan.
Vuoret päälle vaaittihin,
Kivet päälle kiusattihin;
Sata miestä miekallista,
Tuhat rauaista urosta,
Ne veti veressä silmin,
Luojan hauan partahalle;
Sata miestä miekallista,
Tuhat kilvenkantajoa,
Luojan hauan paimenena,
Vartiana kaikkivallan.

Neitsy Maaria emonen,
Rakas äiti armollinen,
Itkeä kujertelevi,
Valitella vaikertavi,
Käypi tietä astelevi
Luojan hauan partahalle:
"Nouses luoja kuolemasta,
Herkeä uneksimasta;
Nouse nuorra kuolemasta,
Kaunisna katoamasta!
Kun et nouse, et heränne,
Jo kohta tulen minäki,
Kerallasi kuolemahan,
Kanssasi katoamahan."

Herra hauasta havatsi,
Lausui luoja, noin nimesi:
"Ei ole täältä nouseminen,
Kun siellä käkeäminen;
Kivet alla, paaet päällä,
Kupehilla kummallaki,
Someret syäntä vasten,
Vasten hieta hartioita."

Neitsy Maaria emonen,
Rakas äiti armollinen,
Päivälle kumarteleksen:
"Oi päivyt Jumalan luoma,
Luoma luojan valkiamme!
Paista hetki heltehesti,
Toinen himmesti hiosta,
Kolmansi koko terältä,
Paaet paista pehmiäksi,
Kivet suolaksi sulata,
Someret veä ve'eksi,
Hieta vaaheksi valuta,
Päästä luoja kuolemasta,
Herra hauasta herätä!"

Tuo päivyt Jumalan luoma,
Päivyt armas aurinkoinen,
Lenti päätönnä kanana,
Siipipuonna siuotteli,
Luojan hauan partahalle,
Kammiolle kaikkivallan.

Sat' on miestä miekallista,
Tuhat kilvenkantajoa,
Pantu luojan paimeneksi,
Kaikkivallan vartiaksi;
Nuopa päivältä kysyvät,
Anelevat auringolta:
"Päivä armas aurinkoinen,
Mitäpä sie tänne läksit?"

Päivä taiten vastaeli,
Armas aurinko saneli:
"Läksin luota katsomahan,
Likeltä tähystämähän,
Kuin on luoja kuoletettu,
Herra hautahan hakattu."

Niin päivyt Jumalan luoma,
Luoma luojan valkiamme,
Paistoi hetken heltehesti,
Toisen himmesti hiosti,
Kolmannen koko terältä,
Nukutteli nuivan kansan,
Paineli väen pakanan,
Nuoret miekkojen nojahan,
Vanhat vasten sauojansa,
Keski-iän keihäille.
Paistoi paaet pehmiäksi,
Kivet suolaksi sulatti,
Someret veti ve'eksi,
Hiejan vaaheksi valutti,
Päästi luojan kuolemasta,
Katomasta kaikkivallan.

Luoja hauasta havatsi,
Herra herkesi unesta,
Pääsi hauan partahalle,
Ylös kuopasta kohosi.
Kivet silloin kielin lauloi,
Paateret sanoin pakasi,
Joet joikui, järvet järkkyi,
Vuoret vaskiset vavahti,
Tullessa Jumalan tunnin,
Herran armon auetessa.

Nousi luoja kuolemasta,
Herkesi uneksimasta,
Vetihen vesikivelle
Vatsallehen vaivoaksen,
Veriään viruttamahan,
Hurmehia huuhtomahan.

Niin päivyt Jumalan luoma,
Luoma luojan valkiamme,
Lenti taiten taivahalle,
Siallensa entiselle,
Päästi miehet nukkumasta,
Pahat unta ottamasta.

Pahat kahletta takovat,
Nauloja varustelevat,
Lyöä luoja kahleisin,
Rautalukkoihin lukita,
Ettei pääsisi pakohon,
Kulkemahan kunne'kana,
Hakatusta hauastansa,
Kuopastansa kaivetusta.

Luoja käypi, astelevi,
Kulki matkoa vähäsen,
Kuuli paukkinan pajasta,
Meni köyhänä pajahan,
Kysyjänä kynnykselle;
Täällä rautiot takovat,
Sepät Hiitten hilkkasevat.
Meni seppojen pajahan:
"Mitäs rautiot takovat,
Sepät Hiitten hilkuttavat?"

Se on julma Juuttahainen,
Pahin poikia pahoja,
Ilkein isän aloja,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi
"Taon luojalle kytyttä,
Jumalalle kahlisköyttä;
Vaan en muistanut mitellä,
Kuin on paksu luojan kaula,
Kuin on paksu, kuin on pitkä,
Kuin on poikelta leviä."

Niin kuulu Jumalan poika
Itse tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Sen on paksu luojan kaula,
Sen on paksu, senpä pitkä,
Senki poikelta leviä,
Kun on kaulasi omasi."

Sanoi julma Juuttahainen,
Pahin poikia pahoja,
Ilkein isän aloja:
"Mistäs tieät luojan kaulan,
Kuin on paksu, kuin on pitkä,
Kuin on poikelta leviä?"

Niin kuulu Jumalan poika
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi
"Siinäpä olin minäki,
Luojan hauan partahalla,
Katsoin kantosen takana,
Vesakosta vierettelin."--

Sanoi julma Juuttahainen,
Pahin poikia pahoja,
Ilkein isän aloja:
"Niinpä sinun on leuka laaja,
Leuka laaja, silmät suuret,
Niin on pitkät silmäripset,
Kun on eilisen Jumalan,
Jonka maahan hakkasimma,
Hakkasimma, hautasimma."

Niin kuulu Jumalan poika
Itse tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Sill' on miulla leuka laaja,
Leuka laaja, silmät suuret,
Sillä pitkät silmäripset,
Kauan kasvoin kankahalla,
Kasvoin kantosen takana,
Kiven suuren suojasessa."

Se on julma Juuttahainen,
Pahin poikia pahoja,
Ilkein isän aloja,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi:
"Voi kun oot kovin osaava,
Yli muien ymmärtävä!"

Niin kuulu Jumalan poika
Itse tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Sillä oon kovin osaava,
Yli muien ymmärtävä;
Kauan katsoin syöjän suuhun,
Partahan palanpurijan."

Sanoi julma Juuttahainen,
Pahin poikia pahoja,
Ilkein isän aloja:
"Nyt oisi kahlis valmihina,
Vaan en mie mitellä saata
Tuota kauloa omoa,
Kuin on pitkä, kuin on paksu,
Kuinka poikelta leviä;
Ei minun käteni käänny,
Eikä sormeni sopine."

Niin kuulu Jumalan poika
Itse tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Kun annat minun mitata,
Saattaisin minä mitellä,
Kääntyisi minun käteni,
Sekä sormeni sopisi."

Se on julma Juuttahainen,
Pahin poikia pahoja,
Ilkein isän aloja,
Sanan virkkoi, noin nimesi:
"Jos annan sinun mitellä,
Ellös lukkohon lukitko,
Elä paina palkimehen
Elä pihtihin pihistä;
Vast' on lukko laajittuna,
Ei vielä avainta saatu,
Ei lukot käsin lutise,
Loirat sormin sorkuele."

Antoi luojansa mitellä
Tuota kauloa omoa,
Kuin oli pitkä, kuinka paksu,
Kuinka poikelta leviä.

Siitä meiän suuri luoja,
Meiän julkinen Jumala,
Mittaeli, määräeli,
Jopa lukkohon lukitsi,
Siitä painoi palkimehen,
Sekä pihtihin pihisti.

Iski kannan kalliohon;
Perän potkasi kivehen,
Yheksän sylen syvähän,
Kyynäräisen kymmenettä:
"Pysy nyt siinä pintahainen,
Paru siinä pantahainen,
Tekemässäsi pahassa,
Luomassasi kytkyessä!"

Se on julma Juuttahainen
Pahin poikia pahoja,
Ilkein isän aloja,
Jo näki tuhon tulevan,
Hätäpäivän päälle saavan;
Kerran kiljasi pahasti,
Toisen karjui kauhiasti,
Kolmannen ylen kovasti.

Sanoi meiän suuri luoja,
Meiän julkinen Jumala:
"Kilju nyt kivi kovaksi,
Karju rauta karkiaksi!
Pysy siinä sen ikäsi,
Asu siinä aikuesi,
Kun ei kuuta aurinkoa,
Päiveä hyvännäöstä,
Kun ei maata, eikä puuta,
Ilmassa inehmisiä.--
Tämän päivyen perästä,
Olkohon kivi kovana,
Rauta kaikki karkiana,
Tuuli taivahan viluna!"

Siitä meiän suuri luoja,
Meiän julkinen Jumala,
Ylös ilmahan kohosi,
Päälle kuuen kirjokannen,
Päälle taivaisen kaheksan,
Ilmalle yheksännelle,
Sialle isän Jumalan,
Kamarihin kaikkivallan.
Siellä suutua pitävi,
Kansan kaiken tuomitsevi,
Pahat paiskavi syvähän,
Hirviähän helvettihin,
Hyvät sinne siirtelevi,
Taluttavi taivahasen.

Source Colophon

Finnish source text from Elias Lönnrot, Kanteletar taikka Suomen kansan wanhoja lauluja ja wirsiä (Kanteletar, or Old Songs and Hymns of the Finnish People), Helsinki, 1840. Text as published by Project Gutenberg, EBook #7078, produced by Tapio Riikonen, released December 2004. Public domain. No restrictions. The text preserves Lönnrot's 19th-century Finnish orthography (e.g., "w" for modern "v").

Song 5 (Mataleenan vesimatka) occupies lines 23972–24069 of the raw file. Song 6 (Neitsy Maarian virsi) occupies lines 24073–25049 — the longest continuous poem in the Kanteletar at 977 verse lines.

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Tianmu Anglican Church