From Elias Lönnrot's Kanteletar taikka Suomen kansan wanhoja lauluja ja wirsiä (1840)
The Kanteletar — "Daughter of the Kantele" — is Elias 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 across Finnish and Russian Karelia, Häme, and Savonia. Over five hundred songs across three books.
The songs translated here form the sacred core of the collection. From Book I come three ritual songs: the opening poem, which subverts the Kalevala's heroic origin of music — the kantele is not carved from a great pike's bones by Väinämöinen but moulded from sorrow and grief; the Origin of Beer, in which hops, barley, and water call to each other across the landscape, and a titmouse brews ale that a cat names from the oven; and the shaman-singer's invocation, a declaration of inherited magical knowledge tracing the lineage of master singers through Väinämöinen, Ilmarinen, Lemminkäinen, Antero Vipunen, and old Kaleva.
From Book III come the first four of six Muinais-uskoisia — Ancient-Belief Songs — that preserve the oldest stratum of Finnish folk religion. The Suitors of Suometar is a cosmogonic myth: a duck lays a golden egg that becomes a maiden named Suometar (Daughter of Finland), courted by the Moon, the Sun, and the North Star. Lyylikki's Skiing is a trickster tale: a boastful ski-maker chases an elk created by the Hiisi-spirits, only to find it is made of tussocks, pond-bubbles, fence-posts, and rotten wood. Katri's Healing is a Christian folk legend in which the Virgin Mary runs across levelled mountains to rescue a weaver from fire and heal her in the sauna. The Estonian Slave and Master is a fierce social parable: the slave dies in a snowdrift and is welcomed to heaven with silver and mead, while the master dies and is cast into hell with fire and snakes — and when the master's soul walks the stone road offering ever-greater payment, the slave refuses each time, for the wage was owed in life, not after death.
Songs 5 and 6 of the Ancient-Belief section — Mataleena's Water Journey and the Virgin Mary's Hymn — are translated separately (see Kanteletar — Mataleena's Journey and the Virgin Mary's Hymn). Together these two files complete the entire Muinais-uskoisia cycle.
No public domain English translation of the Kanteletar exists. Keith Bosley's 1992 Oxford translation of selections is in copyright. This translation is independently derived from the 1840 Finnish text (Project Gutenberg EBook #7078, produced by Tapio Riikonen). This is a Good Works Translation.
Part I — Ritual Songs from Book I
Song 1 — A Strange Kantele (Eräskummainen kantele)
Book I, Section I: Common to All — the opening song of the Kanteletar. A counter-myth. The Kalevala tells how Väinämöinen carved the kantele from the jawbone of a great pike; this song says that is a lie. The kantele is made from sorrow.
They outright lie,
Put forth utter emptiness,
Those who say of music,
Who claim of the kantele,
That Väinämöinen carved it,
That God shaped it,
From the great pike's shoulders,
From the water-dog's curved bones.
Music is made from sorrows,
Moulded out of grief:
Its body from bitter days,
Its frame from lasting wretchedness,
Its strings gathered from torments,
Its pegs from other hardships.
Therefore my kantele does not play,
Does not rejoice at all,
Music does not play for favour,
Does not yield fine joy,
Since it was carved from cares,
Moulded out of grief.
Song 110 — Origin of Beer (Oluen synty)
Book I, Section I: Common to All — a creation myth of ale. Hops, Barley, and Water call to each other and come together; a wagtail carries water, a robin chops wood, a titmouse brews — and the cat names the drink from the oven. An origin song (synty) of the type used as ritual invocations in Finnish folk magic.
I know the origin of beer —
From hops, the origin of beer.
Hops, the son of Remunen,
Was pressed small into the earth,
Ploughed into the ground like a snake,
Cast out like an enemy,
On Osmo's field-ridge,
Beside Kaleva's well.
From there a shoot could rise,
A green sapling could climb,
On Osmo's field-ridge,
Beside Kaleva's well;
Rose up into a little tree,
Climbed toward the treetop.
Then hops called from the tree,
Barley from the field-ridge,
Water from Kaleva's well:
"When shall we come together,
When shall we meet each other —
At Christmas, at Kekri-feast,
Or not until Easter,
Or even this very day?
Even this very day."
Straightaway they came together
And met one another.
A wagtail carried water
Through a nimble summer day,
A robin chopped the wood,
A titmouse brewed the beer.
Well the titmouse knew how,
Knew how to brew the beer,
But did not know its name.
The cat spoke from the oven,
Puss declared from the table's end:
"Ale is its right name —
A good drink for the righteous,
Bad for those who drink too much.
The righteous it makes merry,
The fools it sets to fighting."
The titmouse, little bird,
The sparrow of small means,
Invited many guests
To drink the beer.
Good was the drink for the righteous,
Bad for those who drank too much —
It set the fools to swaying,
The mad ones to staggering.
The titmouse, little bird,
The sparrow of small means,
Could not stay at home —
Had to flee into the forest.
Song 278 — I Sing the Enchantments I Know (Noita laulan, joita taian)
Book I, Section II: Men's Songs — the shaman-singer's invocation. A man of little power declares that he will sing what the well-fed will not: the inherited magical words his father taught him while walking the road together. Then he names the lineage of eternal singers: Väinämöinen, Ilmarinen, Lemminkäinen, Kaukomieli, the Maiden of the North, Antero Vipunen, old Kaleva. This is the same verse that opens Book III of the Kanteletar as its epigraph.
I, a man of little power,
A hero of feeble breath,
Not great in age,
Nor strong in the body's growth —
But still, for all that,
If the well-fed do not sing,
The ruddy do not hum,
Then I, a lean boy, shall sing,
A dry boy shall whistle.
I sing from meagre flesh,
From moonless sides,
For this evening's joy,
For the ending of this day.
Those enchantments I sing that I know,
I croon what was heard before —
Words received long ago,
Lessons learned of old,
Words my father received,
My elder prepared for me.
These once my father taught me,
My own elder instructed me,
As we two walked the road together,
As we three rapped along.
Words do not sink into hiding,
Nor charms into the crack;
Power does not go into the earth's crevice,
Though the powerful men go there.
That was the eternal singer,
The step of the hymn through generations:
That is old Väinämöinen,
The second is Ilmarinen the smith,
The third reckless Lemminkäinen,
He too, handsome Far-Mind,
The Maiden of the North as fourth,
The Maiden of the North, the Crone of the North,
The fifth Antero Vipunen,
The sixth old Kaleva.
There was still young Joukahainen,
And many others still,
Whom my father once sang of,
My own elder taught me.
Whether it is so or otherwise,
Or somehow else entirely —
The Sampo never lacked for words,
Nor Louhi for charms.
With words the Sampo grew old,
With charms Louhi decayed,
With hymns Vipunen died,
While striking a game, Lemminkäinen.
Part II — Ancient-Belief Songs from Book III (Muinais-uskoisia)
Book III of the Kanteletar is the Virsi-Lauluja — the Sacred Song collection. Its first section, Muinais-uskoisia (Ancient-Belief Songs), contains six songs preserving Finnish pre-Christian mythology and early Christian folk religion. Songs 1–4 are translated below. Songs 5–6 are translated in the companion file.
Song 1 — The Suitors of Suometar (Suomettaren kosijat)
Book III, Section I: Ancient-Belief Songs — a cosmogonic myth. A maiden finds a duck in a marsh; the duck lays a golden egg; the egg becomes a maiden named Suometar (Daughter of Finland). Three celestial suitors come — the Moon, the Sun, and the North Star. The maiden rejects the Moon (too changeable) and the Sun (too harsh), but accepts the North Star (steadfast, fine at home, riding on the shoulders of the Great Bear). From Finnish Karelia.
There was once a maiden young.
She went out to drive the cows,
Drove the cows across the marsh,
Found in the marsh a duck,
Came upon a teal by the shore.
She carried her duck home,
Fed and watered her duck.
The duck smoothed out its nest,
Laid a golden egg.
She rolled it, she brooded it —
The egg turned into a maiden.
What name for the maiden —
Daughter of the Duck, or Daughter of Finland?
Sorsatar is not fair enough —
Suometar is the fair name.
A little time passed,
Five or six months went by.
The maiden grew beautiful,
Rose to be exceedingly fair.
Three suitors came,
Ninefold bridegroom-men:
The Moon came, the Sun drove,
And as third came the North Star.
First came the Moon as suitor,
Came jingling in gold,
Ringing in silver:
"Come to me, maiden,
Leave this house
For silver chambers,
For golden rooms!"
But the maiden did not go.
This the maiden spoke:
"I will not go to the Moon —
The Moon has a strange gaze,
Its form is many-shaped:
Sometimes narrow in the face,
Sometimes far too broad.
At night it wanders wretchedly,
By day it lies resting —
It cannot keep house."
Then came the Sun as second,
Came jingling in gold,
Ringing in silver:
"Come to me, maiden,
Leave this house
For silver chambers,
For golden rooms!"
But the maiden did not go.
This the maiden spoke:
"I would not go to the Sun —
The Sun is ill-mannered:
In summer it torments with heat,
In winter it scorches with frost.
In the bright hay-season
It gave unceasing rains;
In the precious oat-season
It made droughts without mercy."
Then came the lad, the North Star,
Without jingling in gold,
Without ringing in silver:
"Come to me, maiden,
Leave this house
For golden rooms,
For silver chambers!"
The maiden answered in return:
"I think I shall go to the Star —
The Star is well-mannered,
Always careful in its house,
Exceedingly fine at home,
On the shoulders of the Great Bear,
On the back of the Seven Stars."
The Star's horse is led
And taken to the stable;
Fine hay is thrown to it,
A trough of oats is carried.
The Star is brought into the house,
Seated at the head of the table.
A tankard of ale is brought,
A pitcher of mead is carried:
"Eat, drink, dear Star!"
"I do not wish to eat or drink,
For I do not see my maiden.
Where is my own,
Where is fair Suometar?"
Fair Suometar the maiden
Speaks from the storehouse herself:
"My desired bridegroom,
My highest bridegroom!
Give me a little time,
Time for one who has no father,
More for one who has no mother.
My mother does not help me,
My own elder does not prepare me —
The village women help me,
The village wives dress me.
Cold is the village's care,
Harsh the stranger's dressing."
Song 2 — Lyylikki's Skiing (Lyylikin hiihanta)
Book III, Section I: Ancient-Belief Songs — a trickster tale of hubris and deception. The ski-maker Lyylikki boasts that nothing in the forest can escape him. The Hiisi-spirits hear and build a phantom elk from swamp-stuff, set it loose to wreak havoc in Lapland. Lyylikki chases it down — but the elk is made of tussocks, pond-bubbles, water-lilies, fence-posts, and rotten wood. His ski breaks. He limps home. Compare Kalevala, Cantos 13–14 (Lemminkäinen's elk chase). From Russian Karelia.
Lyylikki the ski-maker,
Kauppi the snowshoe-crafter,
A year he planed new skis,
All winter carved the snowshoes.
Got the ski ready for gliding,
The snowshoe's heel for striking,
The pole's shaft for planing,
Its ring for fitting —
The pole cost an otter's pelt,
The ring a red fox's skin.
Lyylikki the ski-maker,
Kauppi the snowshoe-crafter,
Set out to strip a sapling,
To fell a handsome tree.
He pushed the ski onto the snow
To take up the shoulder-base.
He spoke with these words,
Declared with this declaration:
"There is nothing in the forest
Running on four legs,
Or darting on wings,
That I could not catch
On these very night-watches,
In these late firelight hours."
The Hiisi-spirits happened to hear,
The Juutas-folk were watching.
The Hiisi built an elk,
The Juutas shaped a reindeer.
Thus they counselled their elk,
Spoke to their reindeer:
"Now you run, elk of Hiisi,
Legs splendid in stride,
Through the reindeer-calving grounds,
Across Lapland's chip-strewn clearings —
Make the Lapp maidens weep,
Make the Lapp dogs bark!"
Then Hiisi's elk ran,
Its wild legs racing free,
Across Lapland's clearings,
Past the reindeer pastures.
It kicked over the cook-pot,
Toppled the kettles from the fire,
Scattered the stew into the ashes,
Spread the fish into the embers.
Then the dogs barked there,
Then the maidens wept there,
Then the women laughed there.
Lyylikki the ski-maker,
Kauppi the snowshoe-crafter,
Heard a mighty commotion,
Heard the dogs barking,
The Lapp maidens weeping,
The Lapp women laughing.
He left off stripping the sapling,
Stopped felling the handsome tree,
Stood himself on the ski
In Lapland's clearing:
"Why are the maidens weeping here?
Why are the dogs barking?"
"Hiisi's elk ran through here,
Its wild legs racing free.
It kicked over the cook-pot,
Toppled the kettles from the fire,
Scattered the stew into the ashes,
Spread the fish into the embers."
Lyylikki the ski-maker,
Kauppi the snowshoe-crafter,
Was angered and enraged,
Deeply angered and wrathful.
He pushed the ski onto the snow
Like a viper beneath dead grass,
Glided past the marsh-pine
Like a living serpent.
At the first kick,
Faster than the eye could follow —
At the second thrust,
Beyond what the ear could hear —
At the third gathering of speed,
He was at the flanks of Hiisi's elk,
At the reindeer-beast's haunches.
Already he patted the hide,
Stroked the side:
"If only I could lie there,
If only I could sleep there —
It would suit me to live
Beside a young maiden,
With a growing little hen,
A ripening young woman."
He took a maple peg,
Built a birch-bark harness
To tether his elk.
He looked — he turned it over:
The head was made of a tussock,
The eyes of pond-bubbles,
The ears of water-lilies,
The antlers of a fence-fork,
The sinews of dry dead-grass,
The shins of fence-posts,
The back of fence-rails,
The body of rotten wood,
The hide of spruce-bark.
Lyylikki the ski-maker,
Kauppi the snowshoe-crafter,
Started homeward then.
At the first kick
The ski flew off the binding,
Flew clean off the strap,
The snowshoe from behind the heel,
The pole from the ring's place.
Lyylikki the ski-maker,
Kauppi the snowshoe-crafter,
Head bowed, in dark mood,
Cap tilted to one side,
Gazes at his gear,
Tries to fit the rings.
He spoke these words:
"I do not know, wretched boy,
In my wretched days,
How to be, how to live.
Shall it burn, shall it roast,
The Lapp's reed shoe?
Shall it slide, shall it slip,
The Lapp's snowshoe-sole?
May no one ever,
In the moon's golden light,
Of our men go
Chasing Hiisi's elk.
He got a piece of rotten wood,
And even that with great sorrow."
Song 3 — Katri's Healing (Katrin parannus)
Book III, Section I: Ancient-Belief Songs — a folk legend of miraculous rescue. Katri weaves at her loom; a man from beyond the sea throws her into fire. The Virgin Mary hears her screams from six leagues away, runs so fast that ravines rise and hills flatten, pulls Katri from the flames, and heals her in the sauna with steam through the stone stove. From Russian Karelia.
Katri weaves her cloth,
Fine Helma rings at the loom.
So the shuttle glided,
Like a stoat in a rock crevice.
So the reed's voice sang,
Like a stone church's bell.
Katri weaves her cloth,
Fine Helma rings at the loom.
The kin cannot sleep soundly,
The village cannot rest enough
From the clatter of Katri's loom,
From the ringing of fine Helma.
A man came from beyond the sea,
A warrior of closed words.
He chopped wood a little while,
Split logs for a moment —
Thirty sledge-loads —
All these he shoved into the fire,
Then carried Katri into the fire,
Fine Helma into the blaze.
Katri let out a mournful cry,
Screamed a dreadful sound.
The cry was heard six leagues away,
It rang across eight.
The Virgin Mary, dear mother,
Beloved merciful mother,
Quickly ran the long roads,
Swiftly crossed the distances,
Gathered up her skirts,
Rolled up her garments with her hands.
Ravines rose, hills sank —
All roads became level.
She seized Katri from the fire,
Fine Helma from the blaze,
Carried Katri to the bath.
Herself she cast the finest steam,
Released a good cloud of steam,
Sent a good warmth
Through the stone stove.
She made Katri well again,
Healed her to wholeness.
Song 4 — The Estonian Slave and Master (Wiron orja ja isäntä)
Book III, Section I: Ancient-Belief Songs — a social justice parable of rare power. A slave in Estonia is paid poorly: short measure, rotting cloth, chaff-filled grain. Given leave at Christmas, he falls into a snowdrift and dies in his bare shirt. Three maidens of Tuoni collect his soul and lead it to heaven — a silver door, a gold gate, a silver chair, mead and ale. The master dies and is taken to hell — a fiery door, a tar gate, fire and snakes. Then the master's soul walks the stone road, jingling with silver and gold, begging the slave to accept payment. The slave refuses each time: "You did not give in your time." The final stanza — in which the slave tells the master he mistook his cracking bones for the barn creaking and his flowing blood for a rolling woodpile — is one of the most devastating passages in Finnish folk poetry. From Finnish Karelia.
I sing two hymns,
Like the finest wall-timbers —
For masters and mistresses,
For slaves who have no share.
There was once a slave in Estonia,
A cowherd in the manor.
Poorly was his wage paid,
Poorly the wage, wrongly the toil —
With the shortest measure,
With cloth that was rotting,
With the smallest bushel,
With chaff-filled grain.
The slave was given leave,
Leave of the slave, liberty of the prisoner,
To run home at Christmas,
To reach the high holy days.
The slave plunged into a snowdrift,
Face-first into the drift, head-first into the clay,
Hands-first into the bitter air,
Heels-first into the wicked frost.
There the poor slave sank,
The wretched servant died
In his bare shirt-sleeves,
Without even a lining.
Three maidens of Tuoni came
To gather the dead.
The slave's soul was found,
The slave's soul was taken,
Led into heaven,
Escorted into the hall of joy.
The silver door was opened,
The golden gate was unlocked,
When the slave came inside.
A silver chair was brought,
A golden chamber-seat was carried:
"Sit there, poor slave!
Surely you have had, poor slave,
To sit on worse than this
In your time of slavery,
When you went as a servant —
Sitting on hard wood,
And standing besides."
A silver tankard was brought,
A golden pitcher was carried,
Mead and honeyed drink within,
Ale of fair appearance:
"Drink of this, poor slave!
Surely you have had, poor slave,
To drink even water from the stream
In your time of slavery,
When you went as a servant —
Drinking bog-water from the marsh,
Dripping-water from the yard."
A little time passed.
The great master died.
Three maidens of Tuoni came
To gather the dead.
The master's soul was found,
The master's soul was taken,
Brought to the house of sorrow,
Cast into hell,
Into the evil place of torment.
The fiery door was opened,
The tar-gate was wrenched wide:
"Stand there, great master!
Surely you have had sitting enough
In your time as master,
When you went as commander —
Sitting in fine halls,
In beautiful chambers."
A fiery tankard was brought,
A tar-tankard was wrenched forth,
Fire and tar within,
Lizards and snakes:
"Drink of this, great master!
You have already drunk better
In your time as master,
When you went as commander —
Drank ale enough,
Puffed up at the head of the table."
"Why is this done to me,
As to a wretched boy?"
"This is why it is done to you:
Poorly you paid the slave's wage —
With blood-stained cloth,
With uneven fabric,
With short measures,
With narrow arm-spans,
With the smallest bushels,
With chaff-filled grain."
The master's soul walked,
Walked the stone road,
Treading the stone path —
A long measure in his hand,
A bolt of cloth under his arm,
Silver jingling from his purse,
Gold glittering from his wallet:
"Come here, poor slave!
I will pay your wage better.
Take this, poor slave!"
"I will not take it, poor master."
"Take, take it, poor slave —
Broadcloth in place of wool,
Tenfold for each measure!"
"I will not take it, poor master."
"Take, take it, poor slave —
Wheat in place of rye,
A carp for each bushel's tax!"
"I will not take it, poor master."
"Take, take it, poor slave —
The best cow from my byre,
Choose the best of my herd!"
"I will not take it, poor master,
Since you did not give in your time.
You could have paid in the lands,
Repaid at the great house.
You could have set the wage then
When I watered your cow-herd,
Watched your flock of sheep,
When I stamped your laundry,
Beat your rags,
When I toiled in the threshing barn,
Laboured beneath the beams,
Lay in the straw-house,
Wiping sweat with my sleeve.
You thought the barn was creaking
When my breastbone cracked.
You thought the beam was groaning
When my shoulder groaned.
You thought the rafter was splitting
When my side split.
You thought the long woodpile was rolling
When my blood flowed —
In my time of slavery,
When I went as a servant."
Colophon
These seven songs were translated from the Finnish source text published in Elias Lönnrot (compiler), Kanteletar taikka Suomen kansan wanhoja lauluja ja wirsiä (Helsinki, 1840), digitized for Project Gutenberg (EBook #7078, produced by Tapio Riikonen, released December 2004). The Finnish text is in the public domain.
The songs form the sacred and mythological core of the Kanteletar — the canonical collection of Finnish lyric folk poetry and companion volume to the Kalevala. Song 1 of Book I is the opening poem, a counter-myth to the Kalevala's origin of the kantele. Song 110 is a creation myth of ale (synty), of the type used as ritual invocations in Finnish folk magic. Song 278 is the shaman-singer's declaration of inherited magical knowledge, listing the lineage of master singers. Songs 1–4 of Book III, Section I are the first four of six Ancient-Belief Songs (Muinais-uskoisia) — pre-Christian cosmogonic myths, trickster tales, and early Christian folk legends. Songs 5 and 6 of the same section are translated separately in the companion file (see Kanteletar — Mataleena's Journey and the Virgin Mary's Hymn).
No public domain English translation of the Kanteletar exists. Keith Bosley's 1992 Oxford University Press translation of selections is in copyright and was not consulted. This English is independently derived from the 1840 Finnish text.
Translated from the Finnish for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.
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Source Text — Kanteletar (Lönnrot, 1840)
Finnish source text from Elias Lönnrot (compiler), Kanteletar taikka Suomen kansan wanhoja lauluja ja wirsiä (Helsinki, 1840). Project Gutenberg EBook #7078, produced by Tapio Riikonen. Public domain. Orthography reflects the 1840 printing; 19th-century spellings ("w" for modern "v", "ph" for "f") are preserved.
Book I — Song 1: Eräskummainen kantele
Ne varsin valehtelevat,
Tuiki tyhjeä panevat,
Jotka soittoa sanovat,
Arvelevat kanteletta
Väinämöisen veistämäksi,
Jumalan kuvoamaksi,
Hauin suuren hartioista,
Veen koiran koukkuluista;
Soitto on suruista tehty,
Murehista muovaeltu:
Koppa päivistä kovista,
Emäpuu ikipoloista,
Kielet kiusoista kerätty,
Naulat muista vastuksista.
Sentä ei soita kanteleni,
Ei iloitse ensinkänä,
Soitto ei soita suosioksi,
Laske ei laatuista iloa,
Kun on huolista kuvattu,
Murehista muovaeltu.
Book I — Song 110: Oluen synty
Tieän mä oluen synnyn,
Humalast' oluen synty.
Humala, Remusen poika,
Piennä maahan pistettihin,
Kyinä maahan kynnettihin,
Viholaisna viskottihin,
Osman pellon penkerehen,
Vierehen Kalevan kaivon.
Siitä taisi taimi nosta,
Yletä vihanta virpi,
Osman pellon penkerellä,
Vierillä Kalevan kaivon;
Nousi puuhun pienoisehen,
Kohti latvoa kohosi.
Niin huhui humala puusta,
Ohra pellon penkereltä,
Vesi kaivosta Kalevan:
"Milloin yhtehen yhymmä,
Konsa toinen toisihimme:
Joulunako, kekrinäkö,
Vaiko vasta pääsiäisnä,
Vaiko jo tänäki päänä?--
Jospa jo tänäki päänä."
Tuosta kohta koolle saivat,
Ja tulivat toisihinsa;
Västäräkki vettä kantoi
Kerkeän kesäisen päivän,
Punalintu puita pilkkoi,
Tianen pani olutta.
Hyvin se tianen tiesi,
Osasi oluen panna,
Vaan ei tiennynnä nimetä.
Kissa virkkoi kiukoalta,
Kasi lausui lauan päästä:
"Olut on oikia nimensä,
Hyvä juoma hurskahille,
Paha paljo juonehille;
Hurskahat ilottelevi,
Hullut tappeloittelevi."
Tianenpa pieni lintu,
Varpunen vähävarainen,
Kutsui paljo vierahia
Oluille juotaville;
Hyvä oli juoma hurskahille,
Paha paljo juonehille:
Pani se hullut huiskamahan,
Mielipuolet meiskamahan.
Tianenpa pieni lintu,
Varpunen vähävarainen,
Ei voinut kotona olla,
Piti metsähän paeta.
Book I — Song 278: Noita laulan, joita taian
Minä mies vähäväkinen,
Uros heikkohengellinen,
En ole iso iältä,
Vahva varren kasvannolta;
Vaan kuitenki, kaikitenki,
Jos ei muut lihavat laula,
Verevämmät vierettele,
Niin mä laulan laiha poika,
Kuiva poika kuikuttelen,
Laulan laihoilta lihoilta,
Kupehilta kuuttomilta,
Tämän iltasen iloksi,
Tämän päivän päätteheksi.
Noita laulan, joita taian,
Ennen kuultuja kujerran,
Ennen saatuja sanoja,
Opituita ongelmoita,
Taaton saamia sanoja,
Vanhemman varustamia.
Niit' ennen isoni neuoi,
Oma vanhempi opetti,
Kahen tietä käyessämme,
Kolmin kolkutellessamme.
Ei sanat salahan joua,
Eikä luottehet lovehen,
Mahti ei mene maan rakohon,
Vaikka mahtajat menevät.
Tuo oli laulaja ikuinen,
Virren porras polvuhinen,
Tuop' on vanha Wäinämöinen,
Toinen seppo Ilmarinen,
Kolmas lieto Lemminkäinen,
Seki kaunis Kaukomieli,
Pohjan neiti neljäntenä,
Pohjan neiti, Pohjan akka,
Viies Antero Wipunen,
Se kuues Kaleva vanha.
Viel' oli nuori Joukahainen,
Vielä muitaki monia,
Joit' ennen isoni lauloi,
Oma vanhempi opetti.
Onko niin elikkä toisin,
Eli muite jomminkummin?--
Sampo ei puuttunut sanoja,
Eikä Louhi luottehia;
Sampo vanhani sanoilla,
Lahoi Louhi luottehilla,
Virsillä Wipunen kuoli,
Leikin lyöen Lemminkäinen.
Book III, Section I — Song 1: Suomettaren kosijat
Oli ennen neiti nuori,
Läksi lehmien ajohon,
Ajoi lehmät suota myöten,
Löysi suolta sorsalinnun,
Tavin rannalta tapasi.
Kantoi sorsansa kotihin,
Syötti, juotti sorsaistansa,
Sorsa suorivi pesäsen,
Muni kultaisen munasen.
Hierelevi, hautelevi,
Muna muuttui neitoseksi,
Mikä neielle nimeksi--
Sorsatarko, Suometarko?
Ei ole Sorsatar soria,
Suometar nimi soria.
Oli aikoa vähäsen,
Kului kuuta viisi, kuusi,
Neiti kasvoi kaunihiksi,
Yleni ylen hyväksi,
Kolmet sulhaset käkesi,
Yheksiset ylkämiehet:
Kulki Kuu, ajeli Päivä,
Kulki kolmas Pohjantähti.
Tuli ensin Kuu kosija,
Tuli kullassa kulisten.
Hopiassa helkkäellen:
"Tule'pas minulle neiti,
Lähe pois talosta tästä,
Hopiaisihin tupihin,
Kultaisihin kammioihin!"
Eipä neiti mennytkänä,
Tuon neiti sanoiksi virkki:
"Tok' en Kuulle mennetkänä,
Kuuli' on kumma katsantonsa,
Muotonsa monennäköinen:
Milloin kaita kasvoiltansa,
Milloin liiaksi leviä;
Öill' on kurja kulkemassa,
Päivällä lepeämässä,
Ei taia taloa tulla."
Tuli toinen Päivä poika,
Tuli kullassa kulisten,
Hopiassa helkkäellen:
"Tule'pas minulle neiti,
Lähe'päs talosta tästä,
Hopiaisihin tupihin,
Kultaisihin kammioihin!"
Eipä neiti mennytkänä,
Tuon neiti sanoiksi virkki:
"Enmä Päivälle menisi,
Päivä se pahantapainen
Kesän vaivavi varilla,
Talven paahtoi pakkasella;
Heliälla hein'ajalla
Antoi ainoiset satehet,
Kallihilla kaur'ajalla
Teki pouat ponnettomat."
Tuli poika Pohjantähti
Kullassa kulisematta,
Hopiassa helkkimättä:
"Tule'pas minulle neiti,
Lähe pois talosta tästä,
Kultaisihin kammioihin,
Hopiaisihin tupihin!"
Neiti vasten vastaeli:
"Taianpa Tähelle mennä,
Tähti se hyväntapainen,
Talossansa aina tarkka,
Koissahan ylen koria,
Otavaisten olkapäillä,
Seitsentähtisen selällä."
Vieähän Tähen hevonen,
Tallihin talutetahan,
Hienot heinät heitetähän,
Kauravakka kannetahan;
Tähti tuoahan tupahan,
Päähän pöyän laitetahan;
Tuoppi tuoahan olutta,
Mettä kannu kannetahan:
"Syö'pä, juo'pa Tähti kulta!"
"En taho syöä, enkä juoa,
Kun en nähne neitoani;
Missäp' on minun omani,
Kussa Suometar soria?"
Suometar soria neiti
Itse aitasta sanovi:
"Sulhoseni suotuseni,
Ylkäni ylimäiseni!
Anna aikoa vähäsen,
Aikoa isottomalle,
Emottomalle enempi;
Ei mua emoni auta,
Oma vanhin valmistele,
Auttavat kyläiset eukot,
Kylän vaimot vaatehtivat,
Kylmä on kyläinen toimi,
Valju mieron vaatehtima."
Book III, Section I — Song 2: Lyylikin hiihanta
Lyylikki lylyjen seppä,
Kauppi kalhujen tekijä,
Vuoen vuoli uutta susta,
Talven kalhua kaverti,
Sai lylyn lykittäväksi,
Kalhun kannan lyötäväksi,
Sauan varren vuolleheksi,
Sompansa sovitetuksi,
Saukon maksoi sauanvarsi,
Sompa ruskian reposen.
Lyylikki lylyjen seppä,
Kauppi kalhujen tekijä,
Läksi rangan karsintahan,
Puun sorian sorrantahan,
Lykkäsi lylyn lumelle,
Olaspohjan ottamahan,
Sanovi sanalla tuolla,
Lausui tuolla lausehella:
"Ei sitä salossa liene
Jalan neljän juoksevata,
Tahi siivin siukovata,
Kut' en taitaisi tavata,
Näill' yksillä yötulilla,
Myöhäisillä valkioilla."
Päätyi Hiiet kuulemassa,
Juuttahat tähystämässä;
Hiiet hirviä rakenti,
Juuttahat poroja laati,
Noin he neuoi hirviänsä,
Porojansa suin puheli:
"Nyt sie juokse Hiitten hirvi,
Jalkoa jalo tevanki,
Poron poikima sioilla,
Lapin lastutanterilla,
Itketä Lapista immet,
Haukuta Lapista koirat!"
Siitä juoksi Hiitten hirvi,
Jalkasi jaloton vilja,
Lapin lastutanteritse,
Poropeltojen peritse,
Potkasi koasta korvon,
Kaatoi kattilat tulelta,
Keitot tuhkahan tuherti;
Kalat lietehen levitti;
Silloin siellä haukkui koirat,
Silloin siellä itki immet,
Silloin siellä nauroi naiset.
Lyylikki lylyjen seppä,
Kauppi kalhujen tekijä,
Kuuli melkoisen metelin,
Kuuli koirat haukkuvaksi,
Lapin immet itkeväksi,
Lapin naiset nauravaksi.
Heitti rangan karsintansa,
Puun sorian sorrantansa,
Itse seisottui lylylle,
Lapin lastutanterilla:
"Mitä täällä immet itki,
Kuta täällä koirat haukkui?"
"Juoksi tästä Hiitten hirvi,
Jalkasi jaloton vilja,
Potkasi koasta korvan,
Kaatoi kattilat tulelta,
Keitot tuhkahan tuherti,
Kalat lietehen levitti."
Lyylikki lylyjen seppä,
Kauppi kalhujen tekijä,
Tuosta suuttui, sekä syäntyi,
Kovin suuttui ja vihastui,
Lykkäsi lylyn lumelle,
Kuni kyyn kulonalaisen,
Solahutti suopetäjän,
Kuni käärmehen elävän.
Niinkun kerran potkasihen,
Silmän siitämättömähän,
Kerran toisen kuopasihen,
Korvan kuulemattomahan,
Kolmannen kohenteleksen,
Lautasille Hiitten hirven,
Poropetran potsasille.
Jop' on taljoa taputti,
Sivua silittelevi:
"Oispa tuossa ollakseni,
Saispa tuossa maatakseni,
Sopisi elelläkseni,
Nuoren neitosen keralla,
Kanssa kasvavan kanasen,
Impyen yleneväisen."
Otti vaajan vaahterisen,
Raksin koivuisen rakenti,
Hirveänsä kytkemähän.
Katselevi, kääntelevi:
Pää oli pantu mättähästä,
Silmät lammin pulpukoista,
Korvat lammin lumpehista,
Sarvet raian haarukasta,
Suonet kuivista kuloista,
Sääret aian seipähistä,
Selkä aian aiaksista,
Muu runko lahosta puusta,
Talja kuusen koskuesta.
Lyylikki lylyjen seppä,
Kauppi kalhujen tekijä,
Jo kohti kotia lähti,
Potkasevi ensikerran,
Lyly lenti pälkähästä,
Lenti poikki pälkähästä,
Kaihu kantapään takoa,
Saua sompasen siasta.
Lyylikki lylyjen seppä,
Kauppi kalhujen tekijä,
Alla päin, pahoilla mielin,
Kaiken kallella kypärin,
Värkkiähän katselevi,
Sompia sovittelevi,
Itse tuon sanoiksi virkki:
"En tieä poloinen poika,
Poloisina päivinäni,
Miten olla, kuin eleä;
Palaneeko, paistuneeko,
Lappalaisen ruokokenkä,
Luikkaneeko, laikkaneeko
Lappalaisen kalhunpohja?
Elköhön sinä ikänä,
Kuuna kullan valkiana,
Menkö toinen miehiämme
Hiitten hirveä ajohon,
Sai palan lahoa puuta,
Senki suurella surulla."
Book III, Section I — Song 3: Katrin parannus
Katri kangasta kutovi,
Helma hieno helkytteli;
Niin sen sulkki sukkulainen,
Kun kärppä kiven kolossa,
Niin sen piukki pirran ääni,
Kun kivisen kirkon kello.
Katri kangasta kutovi,
Helma hieno helkytteli;
Ei suku sikein makoa,
Kylä kyllin uinaele,
Katrin kankahan kuulta,
Helman hienon helkkeheltä.
Tuli mies merentakainen,
Uros umpilausehinen,
Pilkkoi puita pikkaraisen,
Halkoi halkoja vähäsen,
Kolmekymmentä rekiä,
Ne kaikki tulehen työnti,
Kai kantoi Katrin tulehen,
Helman hienon heltehesen.
Katri laski äänen kaihun,
Parkasi pahan sävelen;
Ääni kuului kuusialle,
Kajahti kaheksa'alle.
Neitsy Maaria emonen,
Rakas äiti armollinen,
Pian juoksi matkat pitkät,
Vähelen välit samosi,
Koprin helmansa kokosi,
Käsin kääri vaattehensa,
Rotkot nousi, vaarat vaipui,
Kaikki sai matkat tasaiset.
Tempasi tulesta Katrin,
Helman hienon heltehestä,
Kantoi Katrisen kylyhyn,
Itse loi parahan löylyn,
Hyvän löylyn löyhäytti,
Hyvän lämpösen lähetti,
Läpi kiukoan kivisen;
Teki Katrin terveheksi,
Paransi paranneheksi.
Book III, Section I — Song 4: Wiron orja ja isäntä
Minä laulan kaksi virttä,
Kun parasta seinähirttä,
Isännille, emännille,
Orjille osattomille,
Oli ennen Virossa orja,
Pajarissa karjapaimen,
Pahoin palkka maksettihin,
Pahoin palkka, väärin vaivat,
Lyhimmällä kyynärällä,
Saralla märännehellä,
Pienimmällä kappasella,
Ruumenisilla jyvillä.
Lupa orjan annettihin,
Lupa orjan, valta vangin,
Juosta jouluna kotihin,
Pääpyhille päästäksensä;
Orja suistuvi suvehen,
Suin suvehen, päin savehen,
Koprin ilmahan kovahan,
Perin pälvehen paha'an.
Sihen uupui orja rukka,
Kuoli kurja käskyläinen,
Paljahilla paioillahan,
Aivan aivinattomilla.
Tuli kolme Tuonen neittä,
Kerättihin kuollehia,
Löyettihin orjan sielu,
Otettihin orjan sielu,
Taluttihin taivahasen,
Saatettiin ilosalihin.
Avettiin hopia-uksi,
Kultaportti päästettihin,
Orjan saahessa sisälle.
Tuotihin hopiatuoli,
Kultakammi kannettihin:
"Istu tuolle orja raukka!
Kyll' oot saanut, orja raukka,
Istua pahemmallaki,
Orjuuessa ollessasi,
Käyessäsi käskyläisnä--
Istua kovalla puulla,
Sekä muuten seisoa'ki."
Tuotihin hopiatuoppi,
Kultakannu kannttihin,
Mettä, hunnaa sisässä,
Olutta hyvännäöstä:
"Juo'pas tästä orja rukka!
Kyll' oot saanut, orja rukkai
Juoa vettäki joesta,
Orjuuessa ollessasi,
Käskyläisnä käyessäsi
Juoa suolta suovesiä,
Taetvettä tanhuista."
Oli aikoa vähäsen,
Kuoli tuo iso isäntä,
Tuli kolme Tuonen neittä,
Kerättihin kuollehia;
Löyettiin isännän sielu,
Otettiin isännän sielu,
Vietihin surutupahan,
Heitettihin helvettihin,
Piinapaikkahan paha'an.
Avettiin tulinen uksi,
Tervaportti temmastihin:
"Seiso siin' iso isäntä!
Kyll' oot saanut istua'ki,
Isäntänä ollessasi,
Käskijänä käyessäsi--
Istua salituvissa,
Kaunehissa kammarissa."
Tuotihin tulinen tuoppi,
Tervatuoppi temmastihin,
Tulta, tervoa sisässä,
Sisiliskoja, matoja:
"Juo'pa täst' iso isäntä!
Jo oot juonut parempiaki,
Isäntänä ollessasi,
Käskijänä käyessäsi--
Juonut kyllä oluttaki
Päässä pöyän pöyhkeänä."
"Mintähen tämä minulle,
Kun on kurjalle pojalle?"
"Sentähenpä se sinulle:
Pahoin maksoit orjan palkan,
Veralla virannehella,
Saralla epäpäöllä,
Lyhyillä kyynärillä,
Kaitaisilla pietimillä,
Pienimmillä kappasilla,
Ruumenisilla jyvillä."
Käveli isännän sielu,
Käveli kivikatua,
Kivitietä telläjävi,
Pitkä arsina käessä,
Sarkatorvi kainalossa,
Hopia piosta piukki,
Kulta tuikki kukkarosta:
"Tule tänne orja raukka!
Maksan palkkasi paraite;
Ota tästä orja raukka!"
"En ota isäntä raukka."
"Ota, ota orja raukka,
Verkoa saran tilasta,
Kymmeniä kyynärästä!"
"En ota isäntä raukka."
"Ota, ota orja raukka,
Vehniä rukehisista,
Karpio kapan verosta!"
"En ota isäntä raukka."
Ota, ota orja raukka,
Paras lehmä läävästäni,
Katso paras karjastani!"
"En ota isäntä raukka,
Kun et anta't aikoinasi.
Mahoit maksella mailla,
Kostella ison kotona;
Mahoit silloin palkan panna,
Kun ma juotin lehmäjuonen,
Katsoin lammaskatrastasi;
Kun ma sotkin sotkujasi,
Räiskytin räpähiäsi;
Kun mä riihessä rimusin,
Alla parsien pamusin,
Olin olkihuonehessa,
Pyyhin hiemalla hikiä.
Luulit riihen ripsavaksi,
Kun mun ripsi rintaluuni;
Luulit orren ohkavaksi,
Kun mun ohki olkapääni;
Luulit parren paukkavaksi,
Kun mun paukkoi pallioni;
Pinon pitkän viereväksi,
Kun minun vereni vieri,
Orjuuessa ollessani,
Käskyläissä käyessäni."
Source Colophon
Source: Kanteletar taikka Suomen kansan wanhoja lauluja ja wirsiä (The Kanteletar, or Old Folk Songs and Hymns of the Finnish People), compiled by Elias Lönnrot, Helsinki 1840. Project Gutenberg EBook #7078, produced by Tapio Riikonen. Public domain. The 19th-century Finnish orthography of the 1840 first edition is preserved.
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