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

These five syntyloitsut — origin charms — complete the cosmogonic cycle of Finnish charm poetry alongside the already-translated Birth of the Bear, Birth of Iron, Birth of Fire, and Birth of the Serpent. Together they map the Finnish tietäjä's entire knowledge of origins: how frost was born from evil parentage and nursed by serpents; how the wolf was born from dropped jewelry or from the cannibal-hag's spittle; how water came from heaven and was channelled from the mountain by the son of Kaleva; how humankind was shaped from a clod of earth; and how beer was born from barley, hops, and the bee's honey.

The Birth of Frost (Pakkasen synty) is a masterpiece of the form. Frost is of evil birth — its father is eternal evil, its mother shameless — and no mother had milk for it. A serpent nursed it with venomless nipples; the north wind rocked it. Yet it was christened and given the name Pakkanen — Frost — "pincher of ears, acher of nails, demander of toe-tips." In variant (c), the magnificent tale of Kuljus — the frost-boy born from Hiitola's wedding feast, nursed by a snow-foal, sent to heaven by the Creator but finding it too warm, set in a spring for the summer, then released in autumn to make the trees leafless, the grasses stemless, and the humans bloodless.

The Birth of Beer (Oluen synty) is the most joyful charm in the collection — the tale of how Osmotar brewed barley and hops but could not make the beer ferment; how a marten was sent to fetch stallion-foam; how that produced a mad beer that made men mindless; how a bee was then sent to fetch honey from a meadow island; and how at last good beer was born. In variant (b), barley, hops, and water cry out to each other from field, tree, and stream: "When shall we come together?" — and a robin sings the answer.

These incantations have never before appeared in English.

Pakkasen synty — Birth of Frost

a.

Frost, you evil-born one,
You boy of evil habits!
Now I shall name your lineage,
Proclaim your honour.
I know your descent,
I know all your raising.

Frost was born in a smithy,
Hard weather in a birch-grove,
Of an eternally evil father,
Of a shameless mother,
On the side of the cold slough,
In the armpit of the icy cake.

Who nursed Frost,
Who suckled the hard weather,
When the mother had no milk,
The parent had no udder?
A serpent nursed Frost,
Suckled the hard weather.
A serpent fed it, an adder nursed it,
A worm sustained it with milk,
From an udder without a tip,
From nipples without a nose.
The north wind rocked it,
The chill air comforted it,
On the evil willow-streams,
On the unexplored bogs.
From that it grew coarse,
Rose exceeding noble.
The boy got his evil habits,
Fell under destruction's sway.

It had no name yet,
The wretched-headed boy.
Then the child was christened,
Carried under baptism,
To the shimmering spring,
To the navel of the golden cliff.
A name was given to the evil one,
Bestowed upon the scoundrel —
It was named Frost,
Pincher of ears,
Acher of nails,
Demander of toe-tips.

b.

That dark old woman of Pohjola,
Raani, Frost's mother,
Sat facing east,
Lay with her back to the wind.
She looks about, turns about,
Looks toward the bark-north,
How the moon rose to its ring,
How the sun leapt to its arc.
The wind made her pregnant,
The dawn of day made her with child.

What does she carry in her womb?
She carried three boy-children.
She bore her sons,
Fashioned her children,
At the back of Pohjola's hut,
At the front of Pimentola's cabin.
She called the Creator to christen,
God to name them.
When the Creator did not come,
She herself christened her scoundrels:
One she named Wind-Daughter,
The second she named Gale-Daughter,
And the last, the wrathful son —
That one she named Frost,
Who asks after nails,
Who demands from beneath the feet.

c.

Hiitola holds a wedding,
The evil company a feast.
They slaughtered a horse for the wedding,
A long-mane for the celebration.
The blood was flung over there,
Behind Hiitola's smithy.
A steam rose to the heavens,
A vapor rose to the sky,
From that it burst into clouds,
Settled into Frost.

Lumikki, a horse's foal —
She nursed Frost,
From a swelling udder,
On her visible nipples.
Frost, the evil offspring,
Nursed clean through her shoulders,
The udder till it was empty,
The nipples till they were gone.

The boy got nursed,
Got christened and baptized,
On a silver river,
At a golden spring.
Kuljus was given as the name,
Kuljus boy for Frost,
Kuljus is Frost itself,
Kuljuses all the rest of its kin.

The Creator took it to heaven —
But Kuljus thinks:
It is tiresome in the warm,
Oppressive in the burning.
The Creator cast it into a spring.
Kuljus dwelt in the spring,
Lolled there all summer long.

The Creator spoke from heaven:
"Rise now, young boy,
To flatten the ground!"
Kuljus left the spring,
Began to dwell in the clearings,
To whirl at the gateways.
It bit the trees leafless,
The grasses stemless,
The humans bloodless.

Suden synty — Birth of the Wolf

a.

Earth's daughter, the underworld's maiden,
Walked as she walked her road,
Trod through bogs, trod through lands,
Trod barren heaths,
Trod paths once trodden,
Trod the untrodden.
She picked flowers from the grass,
Blossoms from the meadow,
Wrapped them in her kerchief,
In her headcloth's fold.
At last she sat on a stone,
Beside the green trail.
She combed her hair there,
Tended her tresses,
Jingled her beads,
Clinked her gold pieces.
A bead fell into the grass,
A golden trinket dropped —
From that the dark one was born,
The fur-foot was raised,
The wool-tail was nurtured,
The wolf's offspring spawned.

b.

Eternal hacker,
Evil boy of the knees —
Whence is your lineage,
Whence, dark one, your birth?
From the winds of the heavens?
Or from the deep sea-navels?
Not from the winds of the heavens,
Not from the deep sea-navels.
I know, dark one, your birth,
Your earth's dread raising:
Syöjätär spat on the waters,
Flat-slime on the waves.
From that Kuolatar spawned.
Kuolatar rose from the sea,
To a treeless island,
To a stoneless reef.
She rubbed her two palms,
Kneaded them both together,
Got a little lint —
That she flung into the water,
Into that marshy sea,
Over her left shoulder.
The wind brought that to land,
Into the wilderness's armpit.
There you were born, wind-runner,
There you arrived, bristle-snout,
Were begotten on the sea's back,
Grew in the wilderness's arm.

c.

I know the wolf's birth too,
Where the wretch was born.
Loveatar, an old woman,
The harlot of Pohjola's mistress —
When she bore her children,
Gave birth to her sons,
In the shelter of the icy spring,
In the armpit of the frozen well,
A birth was not yet born,
An offspring was not yet spawning.
She changed to another place,
Bore her sons
In the thick bird-cherry,
Inside the wind-breaks.
There a birth was born,
An offspring spawned.
There she got such a son:
A bone-eater, a flesh-biter,
A blood-drawer from the new.
She said when she had got it:
"Woe to my poor son,
For my poor son
Is a bone-eater, a flesh-biter,
A blood-drawer from the new!
If I took this one into the house,
It would ruin my house.
If I built this one a sauna,
It would tear my sauna apart."
Old Väinämöinen said:
"Let it be in its own luck,
At the edge of the squirrel-wood,
In the wilderness's armpit!"

Veden synty — Birth of Water

a.

The birth of water is known,
And the origin of dew:
Water has come from the heavens,
From the clouds as droplets.
From that it spawned in the mountain,
Grew in the rock's gap.
Water-cloak, Vaita's son,
Bog-cloak, Kaleva's son,
Dug the water from the rock,
Poured the water from the mountain,
With his golden staff,
With his copper rod.

Having poured it from the mountain,
Having got it from the rock,
Water swayed as a spring,
Flowed as tiny streams.
From that it grew great,
Got to run as a river,
To rush as a current,
To roar as a rapids,
Into the great sea,
Into the low expanse.

b.

Water-cloak, Väitö's son,
Offspring of Sinervätär,
Lay in the mountain for a week,
Grew long in the rock,
As it was bearing water,
Fashioning dew.
Water burst from the stone,
Dew fell from the rock —
To the doom of its own kin,
By taking its father's head.
Wet it went to the dead,
Foolishly to Tuonela,
Died with a dog's honour,
Descended with a pup's worth.

c.

Fire's birth is from the heavens,
Iron's origin from rust,
Water's origin from the clouds.
Water is the oldest of the brothers,
Fire the youngest of the daughters,
Iron once the middle one.
This is water from the Jordan,
Got from the Jordan river,
From the rushing current,
From the roaring rapids.
With it Christ was christened,
The Almighty baptized.

d.

Water is the son of Vuolamoinen,
Poured by Vuolamottar,
The washing-water of Jesus,
The tears of God.
Virgin Mary the mother,
Holy maiden, little one,
Brought it from the Jordan river,
From the whirl of the holy current.

Ihmisen synty — Birth of Humankind

A human, lovely form,
Great creation of the family,
Made from a clod of earth,
Built from a cake of clay.
(To it the Lord gave spirit,
The Creator from his mouth breathed life.)

Oluen synty — Birth of Beer

a.

I know the birth of beer,
The origin of the drink can be grasped:
From barley is beer's birth,
From hops the open drink —
Yet it is not born without water,
Nor without fierce fire.

Hops, Remunen's son,
Was planted as a small thing in the earth,
Plowed into the earth as a serpent,
Flung as an enemy,
Beside Kaleva's well,
On the ridge of Osmo's field.
From that a young shoot rose,
A green sapling grew,
Rose into a little tree,
Climbed toward the crown.

Old Man Osmo sowed barley
At the head of Osmo's new field.
Barley grew beautifully,
Rose exceeding fair,
At the head of Osmo's new field,
In the slash-burn of Kaleva's son.

Osmotar, brewer of beer,
Kapo, maker of ales,
Took barley grains,
Six grains of barley,
Seven hop-tops,
Eight ladles of water.
She set the pot on the fire,
Put the brew to boiling.
She brewed barley beer
Through a quick summer's day.
Got the beer brewed —
But could not get it to ferment.

She ponders, she considers:
What should be brought to this,
As a starter for the beer,
As a raiser for the ale?
She saw a pod-grass on the ground,
Picked the pod-grass from the ground,
Rubbed it between her palms,
Kneaded it with both hands,
Against both her thighs,
Rubbed the golden marten's breast.

She said when she had got it:
"My little marten, my little bird,
Go where I command,
Into the dark wilderness,
Where the stallions fight,
Where the studs battle fiercely.
With your hands gather the foam,
With your fists collect the yeast,
As a starter for the beer,
As a raiser for the ale!"

The meek marten, advised,
Ran quickly, arrived fast,
Ran the long way swiftly,
Into the dark wilderness
Where the stallions fought,
Where the studs battled fiercely.
Foam flowed from the mare's mouth,
Slime from the stallion's muzzle.
She carried it to Kapo's hand,
Brought it to Osmotar's palm.

Kapo poured it into her ale,
Osmotar into her beer.
The beer turned evil-natured:
It put men out of their minds,
Made the half-wits brawl,
The fools stumble,
Made children cry,
The rest of the people grieve.

Kalevatar, beautiful maiden,
A girl deft of fingers
And nimble of movement,
Always light on her feet,
Moved at the floor-joint,
Swayed at the middle of the floor.
She saw a leaf on the floor,
Picked the leaf from the floor.
She looks, turns it over:
"What would come of this
In a fair maiden's hands,
In a good woman's fingers?"

She carried it to Kapo's hand,
Into the good woman's fingers.
Kapo rubbed it between her palms,
Kneaded it with both hands,
Against both her thighs —
From that a bee was born.
The bee, nimble bird,
That one flew quickly,
Flew the long way fast,
Shortened the gap swiftly,
To an island on the open sea,
To a reef in the waters,
To a honey-drunk meadow,
To the edge of a mead-field.

A little time passed,
A tiny bit fluttered —
Already it comes buzzing,
Comes shimmering,
Carrying mead on its wing,
Bearing honey in its pouch.
It carried it to Kapo's hand,
Into the good woman's fingers.
Osmotar put it in her beer,
Kapo poured it in her ale.

From that the young drink rose,
The red beer swelled,
In the groove of a new wooden tub,
Inside a birch barrel.
The beer was finished,
The mead was ready for men to drink.

b.

Hops called from the tree,
Water whistled from the stream,
Barley from the field's ridge:
"When shall we come together,
When shall we unite,
When meet each other?
At Kekri-tide, at Yule,
Or only at Easter?
Alone, life is dreary —
Together it is fairer."

A good daughter, a maid of the North,
Ponders, considers:
"What would come of these
If I were to bring them together,
Unite them,
Put one beside the other?"

A robin sang from the tree:
"From those a fine drink would come,
A good beer would be made,
For a skilled maker,
For a proper instructor."

The good daughter, maid of the North,
Picked the hop-tops,
Took barley grains,
Water from the river's whirl.
She brought them together,
Put one beside the other,
Prepared to brew
In the groove of a new wooden tub,
Inside a birch barrel.

A month, stones were heated,
A year, wood was burned,
A summer, water was boiled,
A winter, beer was brewed.
A robin split the wood,
A wagtail carried the water,
A bee brought honey
As a raiser for the young drink.

From that the young drink rose
Inside the birch barrel.
It foamed to the brim of the barrel,
Roared over the edges,
Wanted to pour onto the ground,
To spill onto the floor.

From that the fierce one was recognized,
Was recognized and judged,
Was considered in its time
To pour to the ground for the ground's good,
To pour before it grows,
Before it becomes great.

The good daughter, maid of the North,
Herself spoke these words:
"Woe to my poor days,
Woe to my foolish work,
For I have brewed an evil beer,
Made a tasteless ale:
It climbed out of the barrel,
It waves onto the floor."

A robin sang from the tree,
A thrush from the eaves' edge:
"It is not evil-natured.
The drink is good-natured —
To be emptied into barrels,
To be stored in cellars,
In an oaken barrel,
Between copper hoops."

The ale spoke skilfully,
Itself said, spoke thus:
"It is bad to be in a half-barrel
Behind a copper tap.
If you do not set out singers,
Seat revellers,
I will burst out of the barrel,
I will escape from the half-barrel.
I will kick my keg apart,
I will stave in my bottom,
Go to another house,
Over the fence to the neighbours,
Where there is drinking with joy
And celebrating with merriment."

That was the origin of beer,
Both origin and birth.
Whence did it get its good name,
Whence its celebrated honour?
A cat spoke from the hearth,
A hand spoke from the bench-end:
"Since it is good-natured,
Let beer be its name!"

From that beer got its name
And its celebrated honour,
Since it was good-natured:
A good drink for the devout.
It put women in a laughing mood,
Men in good spirits,
The devout to rejoicing,
The wild to staggering.

Colophon

Source: Elias Lönnrot (comp.), Suomen kansan muinaisia loitsurunoja (Ancient Charm Songs of the Finnish People), Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1880. Sections: 28 Pakkasen synty (Birth of Frost), variants a–c; 40 Suden synty (Birth of the Wolf), variants a–c; 46 Veden synty (Birth of Water), variants a–d; 9 Ihmisen synty (Birth of Humankind); 27 Oluen synty (Birth of Beer), variants a–b.

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 five origin charms complete the cosmogonic cycle of Finnish shamanic verse. The Birth of Frost presents one of the most striking creation narratives in European folklore: Frost born from evil, nursed by serpents on venomless nipples, rocked by the north wind on unexplored bogs — a boy so terrible he was given no name until his christening. The tale of Kuljus (variant c), who finds heaven too warm and is set in a spring until autumn, then released to make the trees leafless, the grasses stemless, and the humans bloodless, is pure Finnish genius. The Birth of Beer — with its talking ale, its singing robin, its cat that names the drink from the hearth — is the lightest and most joyful charm in the collection. The Birth of Humankind is the shortest: six lines, one clod of earth, one breath from God. Together these charms constitute the tietäjä's complete knowledge of origins — the cosmological foundation on which all other magic rested.

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

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Source Text

Finnish source text from Elias Lönnrot (comp.), Suomen kansan muinaisia loitsurunoja (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1880). Presented here for reference, study, and verification. Variant notations (Toisin:) are omitted for readability.

Pakkasen synty — a.

Pakkanen pahansukuinen
Ja poika pahantapainen,
Joko nyt sanon sukusi,
Kuuluttelen kunniasi?
Tieän mä sukuperäsi,
Tieän kaiken kasvantosi.
Pakkanen pajoilla syntyi,
Kova ilma koivikolla,
Ikiturmasta isästä,
Emosta epattomasta,
Kylmän ruoppahan kylellä,
Jäisen kaakun kainalossa.

Ken se pakkasen imetti,
Kovan ilman koitutteli,
Kun oli maammo maiotonna,
Emonen utaretonna?
Käärme pakkasen imetti,
Kova ilma koitutteli,
Käärme syötti, kyy imetti,
Mato maiolla piteli,
Utaresta uuttomasta,
Nännillä nenättömillä;
Pohjaistuuli tuu'itteli,
Vilu ilma viihytteli,
Pahoilla pajupuroilla,
Soilla räykymättömillä.
Siitä kasvoi karkeaksi,
Yleni ylen jaloksi,
Sai poika pahantapainen,
Tuli turmion alainen.

Ei ollut nimeä vielä,
Pojalla epäpäöllä;
Sitten lapsi ristittihin,
Alle kastin kannettihin,
Lähtehelle läikkyvälle
Kultakallion navalle,
Nimi pantihin pahalle,
Ylettihin riiviölle,
Pantihinpa pakkaseksi,
Korvien kohottajaksi,
Kynsien kivistäjäksi,
Vaatijaksi varvaspäien.

Pakkasen synty — b.

Tuop' on musta Pohjan akka.
Raani pakkasen emonen,
Istuihe itähän rinnoin,
Selin tuulehen makasi,
Katseleikse, käänteleikse,
Katsoi kaarnapohjosehen,
Kuinka kuu kehälle nousi,
Päivä kaarelle kavahti;
Teki tuuli tiineheksi,
Päivän koitto kohtuiseksi.

Mitä kantavi kohussa?
Kantoi kolme poikalasta;
Synnytteli poikiansa,
Laa'itteli lapsiansa,
Pohjolan koan perässä,
Pimentolan pirtin päässä.
Kutsui Luojan ristimähän,
Jumalan nimeämähän,
Kun ei Luoja tullutkana,
Itse risti riiviönsä,
Yhen pani Tuulettaren,
Toisen pani Viimattaren,
Viimeisen vihaisen poian
Sen panevi Pakkaseksi,
Joka kynsiä kysyvi,
Alta jalkoja anovi.

Pakkasen synty — c.

Häitä Hiitola pitävi,
Paha joukko juominkia,
Tappoi häiksehen hevosen,
Pioiksensa pitkäharjan,
Veri tuonne viskottihin
Hiitolan pajan perähän;
Nousi tahna taivahalle,
Auer ilmahan yleni,
Siitä pilviksi pirahti,
Paneutui pakkaseksi.

Lumikki hevosen varsa
Sep' on Pakkasen imetti
Utaresta uhkuvasta,
Näkyvillä nännillänsä,
Pakkanen paha sikiö
Halki hartiot imevi,
Utaren u'uttomaksi,
Nännitki nenättömiksi.

Sai poika imetetyksi,
Ristityksi, kastetuksi,
Hopeaisella joella,
Kultaisella lähtehellä;
Kuljus pantihin nimeksi,
Kuljus poika Pakkaselle,
Kuljus Pakkanen itseki,
Kuljuksia muu sukunsa.

Vei tuon Luoja taivosehen,
Vaan Kuljus ajattelevi:
Läyli on olla lämpimässä,
Palavassa pakko suuri.
Loip' on Luoja lähtehesen,
Asui Kuljus lähtehessä,
Kesäkauen kellitteli.

Virkki Luoja taivahasta:
"Nouse pois nyt nuori poika
Tannerta tasottamahan!"
Läksi Kuljus lähtehestä,
Alkoi aloilla asua,
Veräjillä viehkuroia,
Puut puri lehettömiksi,
Heinät helpehettömiksi,
Ihmiset verettömiksi.

Suden synty — a.

Maan tyttö, manuen neiti,
Kävi tietä käyessänsä,
Astui soita, astui maita,
Astui auhtokankahia,
Astui ennen astutuita,
Astui astumattomia;
Poimi kukkia kulosta,
Helpehiä heinikosta,
Kääri käärinliinahansa,
Päävaate-ripakkohonsa.
Viimein istuihe kivelle
Vierehen vihannan viian,
Suki tuossa tukkoansa,
Hapsiansa harjoavi;
Helskyttävi helmiänsä,
Kalskuttavi kultiansa,
Helmi heinihin putosi,
Kultakalkkale karisi,
Siit on sykkö syntynynnä,
Karvajalka kasvanunna,
Viihtynynnä villahäntä,
Siinnynnä suen sikiö.

Suden synty — b.

Leikkari ijän-ikuinen,
Paha poika polvuhinen,
Mistä on sinun sukusi,
Kusta, synkkä, synnyntäsi,
Tuuliltako taivahilta,
Vai syviltä veen navoilta?
Ei tuulilta taivahilta,
Ei syviltä veen navoilta,
Tieän, synkkä, synnyntäsi,
Maan kamala kasvantasi:
Syöjätär vesille sylki,
Lapalieto lainehille,
Siitä Kuolatar sikesi,
Kuolatar merestä nousi,
Saarosehen puuttomahan,
Luotohon kivettömähän;
Hieroi kahta kämmentänsä,
Mykelsi molempiansa,
Saipa nukkoa vähäisen,
Sen se viskasi vetehen,
Tuohon lietohon merehen,
Yli olkansa vasemen,
Tuonpa tuuli maalle tuopi
Metsän korven kainalohon,
Siinä synnyit tuulikulkku,
Jotta jou'uit jouhiturpa,
Sikesit meren selällä,
Kasvoit korven kainalossa.

Suden synty — c.

Tietähän suenki synty,
Miss' on hukka synnytetty;
Loveatar vaimo vanha,
Portto Pohjolan emäntä,
Kun tuo lapsia lateli,
Synnytteli poikiansa,
Hyisen hettehen malossa,
Jäisen kaivon kainalossa,
Eipä synny syntyminen,
Sukeu sikiäminen.
Paneutti toisen paikan,
Synnytteli poikiansa
Tiheillä tuomikoilla,
Tuulimurtojen sisähän;
Siellä syntyi syntyminen,
Sukeutui sikiäminen.
Sai siellä pojan mokoman,
Luun syöjän, lihan purian,
Veren uuelta vetäjän,
Sanoi tuon on saatuansa:
"Voi poloinen poikoani,
Kun on poikani poloisen
Luun syöjä, lihan puria,
Veren uuelta vetäjä!
Jos ma tuon tupahan veisin,
(Tuo tupani turmeleisi),
Jos ma tuolle saunan salvan,
(Saapi saunani hajalle)."
Sanoi vanha Väinämöinen:
"Anna olla onnellansa
Ohessa oravikorven,
Metsän korven kainalossa!"

Veden synty — a.

Tiettävä on vetosen synty,
Kanssa kastehen sijentö:
Vesi on tullut taivosesta,
Pilvistä pisarehina,
Siitä vuoressa sikesi,
Kasvoi kallion lomassa.
Vesiviitta Vaitan poika,
Suoviitta Kalevan poika,
Veen kaivoi kalliosta,
Veen vuoresta valutti,
Kepillänsä kultaisella,
Sauvallansa vaskisella.

Vuoresta valuttuansa,
Kalliosta saatuansa,
Vesi heilui hettehenä,
Kulki pieninä puroina,
Siitä suureksi sukeni,
Sai jokena juoksemahan,
Virtana vipajamahan,
Koskena kohajamahan,
Tuonne suurehen merehen,
Alaisehen aukehesen.

Veden synty — b.

Vesiviitta Väitön poika,
Sinervättären sikiö,
Viikon vuoressa makasi,
Kasvoi kauvan kalliossa,
Vettä synnytellessänsä,
Kastetta kyhätessänsä;
Vesi kirposi kivestä,
Kaatui kaste kalliosta,
Surmaksi oman sukunsa,
Pään isonsa ottamalla:
Märäten meni manalle,
Tuhman lailla tuonelahan,
Kuoli koiran kunnialla,
Penun arvolla aleni.

Veden synty — c.

Tulen on synty taivosesta,
Rauan alku ruostehesta,
Pilvistä vetosen alku;
Vesi on vanhin veljeksistä,
Tuli nuorin tyttäristä,
Rauta kerran keskimäinen.
Tämä on vesi Juortanista,
Saatu Juortanin joesta,
Virrasta vipajavasta,
Koskesta kohajavasta;
Sill' on Ristus ristittynä,
Kaikkivalta kastettuna.

Veden synty — d.

Vesi on poika Vuolamoisen,
Vuolamottaren valama,
Jesuksen pesuvesiä,
Jumalaisen kyyneliä,
Neitsy Maaria emonen,
Pyhä piika pikkarainen,
Tuonut Juortanin joesta,
Pyhän virran pyörtehestä.

Ihmisen synty

Ihminen ihala ilme,
Sukukunnan suuri luomus,
Tehty on mullan kakkarasta,
Mullan kaakusta rakettu,
(Sille Herra hengen antoi,
Luoja suustahan sukesi).

Oluen synty — a.

Tietähän oluen synty,
Juoman alku arvatahan:
Ohrast' on oluen synty,
Humalasta julki juoman,
Vaikk' ei tuo ve'että synny,
Eikä tuimatta tuletta.

Humala, Remusen poika,
Piennä maahan pistettihin,
Kyynä maahan kynnettihin,
Viholaisna viskottihin,
Vierehen Kalevan kaivon,
Osmon pellon penkerehen.
Siitä nousi nuori taimi,
Yleni vihanta virpi,
Nousi puuhun pienosehen,
Kohti latvoa kohosi.

Osmon ukko ohran kylvi
Osmon uuen pellon päähän,
Ohra kasvoi kaunihisti,
Yleni ylen ehosti,
Osmon uuen pellon päässä,
Kaskessa Kalevan poian.

Osmotar oluen seppä,
Kapo kaljojen tekiä,
Otti ohrasen jyviä,
Kuusi ohrasen jyveä,
Seitsemän humalan päätä,
Vettä kauhoa kaheksan,
Panevi pa'an tulelle,
Laittoi keiton kiehumahan.
Keitti ohraista olutta
Kerkeän kesäisen päivän,
Sai oluen keitetyksi,
Vaan ei saanut käyneheksi.

Arvelee, ajattelevi,
Mitä tuohon tuotanehen
Oluelle käyttimeksi,
Kaljalle kohottimeksi.
Näki maassa palkoheinän,
Poimi maasta palkoheinän,
Hieroi kaksin kämmeninsä,
Hykersi käsin molemmin,
Molempihin reisihinsä,
Hieroi nää'än kultarinnan.

Sanoi tuon on saatuansa:
"Näätäseni, lintuseni,
Mene tuonne, kunne käsken,
Metsän synkkähän salohon,
Jossa tammat tappelevat,
Kovin ottavat orihit,
Käsin vaahtea valuta,
Koprin hiivoa kokoa,
Oluelle käytteheksi,
Kaljalle kohotteheksi!"

Näätä nöyrä neuvottua
Jopa juoksi, jotta joutui,
Pian juoksi matkan pitkän
Metsän synkkähän salohon,
Missä tammat tappelivat,
Kovin ottivat orihit.
Valui vaahti tamman suusta,
Kuola kuonosta orihin,
Sen kantoi kavon kätehen,
Toi olalle Osmottaren.

Kapo kaatoi kaljahansa,
Osmotar oluehensa;
Sai olut pahantapainen,
Pani miehet mieltä vaille,
Mielipuolet meuhomahan,
Hullut huppeloitsemahan,
Lapset laitti itkemähän,
Muun kansan murehtimahan.

Kalevatar kaunis neiti,
Tyttö sormilta sorea
Sekä liukas liikunnalta,
Aina kengältä kepeä,
Liikkui sillan liitoksella,
Keikkui keskilattialla,
Näki lehen lattialla,
Poimi lehen lattialta.
Katselevi, kääntelevi,
"Mitä tuostaki tulisi
Kavon kaunihin käsissä,
Hyvän immen hyppysissä?"

Kantoi sen kavon kätehen,
Hyvän immen hyppysihin;
Kapo kaksin kämmeninsä,
Hykersi käsin molemmin,
Molempihin reisihinsä,
Mehiläinen siitä syntyi.
Mehiläinen liukas lintu
Sep' on lenti, jotta joutui,
Pian lenti pitkän matkan,
Välehen välin lyhenti,
Saarehen selällisehen,
Luotohon merellisehen,
Nurmelle mesinukalle,
Simapellon pientarelle.

Kului aikoa vähäisen,
Pirahteli pikkuruisen,
Jo tulla tuhuttelevi,
Saaha saaveroittelevi,
Toi simoa siivessänsä,
Kantoi mettä kaapussansa,
Sen kantoi kavon kätehen,
Hyvän immen hyppysihin,
Osmotar oluehensa,
Kapo pisti kaljahansa.
Siitä nousi nuori juoma,
Yleni olut punainen,
Puisen uuen uurtehessa,
Korvon koivuisen sisässä;
Sai olonen valmihiksi,
Metu miesten juotavaksi.

Oluen synty — b.

Humala huhusi puusta,
Vesi virrasta vihelsi,
Ohra pellon penkereltä:
"Konsa me koolle saamme,
Milloin yhtehen yhymme,
Konsa toinen toisihimme,
Kekrinäkö, joulunako,
Vaiko vasta pääsiäisnä;
Yksin on elo ikävä,
Kahen kolmen kaunosampi."

Hyvä on tyttö Pohjan neiti
Arvelee, ajattelevi,
"Mitä tuostaki tulisi,
Jos ma nuot ko'olle saatan
Sekä yhtehen yhytän,
Laitan toinen toisihinsa."

Punalintu puusta lauloi:
"Saisi noista julki juoma,
Tulisi hyvä olonen,
Tekiälle taitavalle,
Oikein osoajalle."

Hyvä on tyttö Pohjan neiti
Poimivi humalan päitä,
Otti ohrasen jyviä,
Vettä virran pyörtehestä,
Ne hän yhtehen yhytti,
Saatti toinen toisihinsa,
Keitteäksensä käkesi
Puisen uuen uurtehessa,
Korvon koivuisen sisässä.

Kuu kiviä kuumettihin,
Salo puita poltettihin,
Kesä vettä keitettihin,
Talvi pantihin olutta;
Punalintu puita pilkkoi,
Västäräkki vettä kantoi,
Mehiläinen mettä tuopi
Nosteheksi nuoren juoman.

Tuosta nousi nuori juoma
Korvon koivuisen sisässä,
Kuohui korvien tasalle,
Ärjyi päälle äyrähien,
Tahtoi maahan tyyräellä,
Lattialle lasketella.

Tuosta tuima tunnettihin,
Tunnettihin, tuomittihin,
Arveltihin aikanansa
Kaata maahan maan hyväksi,
Kaata ennen kasvamatta,
Suureksi sukeutumatta.

Hyvä on tyttö Pohjan neiti
Itse tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"Voi poloinen päiviäni,
Voipa töitäni typerä,
Kun panin paha-olosen,
Tavattoman taarin laitoin:
Ulos korvosta kohosi,
Lattialle lainehtivi."

Punalintu puusta lauloi,
Rastas räystähän rajalta:
"Ei ole paha-oloinen,
On juoma hyvä-oloinen,
Tynnyrihin tyhjettävä,
Kellarihin käytettävä,
Tynnyrissä tammisessa,
Vaskivannetten sisässä."

Taari lausui taitavasti,
Itse virkki, noin nimesi:
"Paha on olla puolikossa
Tapin vaskisen takana;
Kun et laita laulajoita,
Istuta iloitsioita,
Ulos tyrsin tynnyristä,
Pois pakenen puolikosta;
Rikki potkin puolikkoni,
Pois ma pohjani porotan,
Menen toisehen talohon,
Yli aian naapurihin,
Jossa juoahan ilolla,
Ja remulla reiatahan."

Se oli oluen alku,
Sekä alku että synty;
Mistä sai hyvän nimensä,
Mistä kuulun kunniansa?
Virkkoi kissa kiukoalta,
Kasi lausui lautsan päästä:
"Kun tuo lie hyvä-oloinen,
Olut olkohon nimensä!"

Siitä sai olut nimensä,
Sekä kuulun kunniansa,
Kun oli hyvä-oloinen,
Hyvä juoma hurskahille,
Pani naiset naurusuulle,
Miehet mielelle hyvälle,
Hurskahat iloitsemahan,
Hurjat hoiperoitsemahan.

Source Colophon

Finnish source text from Elias Lönnrot (comp.), Suomen kansan muinaisia loitsurunoja (Helsinki: Suomalaisen Kirjallisuuden Seura, 1880). Public domain (1880 publication). Project Gutenberg EBook #48751, volunteer transcription by Jari Koivisto.

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