# Kalevala (Kirby 1907)/Runo 9

Layout 2
Runo IX.—The Origin of Iron
Argument
Väinämöinen repeats to the old man the legend of the origin of iron (1-266). The old man reviles the iron and repeats spells for the stopping of blood, and the flow of blood is stayed (267-416). The old man directs his son to prepare a salve, and dresses and binds up the wound. Väinämöinen is cured, and thanks Jumala for his merciful assistance (417-586).
Then the aged Väinämöinen In the sledge at once stood upright, From the sledge he sprang unaided, And courageously stood upright. To the room he hastened quickly, And beneath the roof he hurried. There they brought a silver beaker,
And a golden goblet likewise, But they proved by far too little, Holding but the smallest measure10 Of the blood of aged Väinö,
From the hero’s foot that spouted. ​From the stove the old man mumbled,
Cried the greybeard when he saw him, “Who among mankind may’st thou be, Who among the roll of heroes? Seven large boats with blood are brimming, Eight large tubs are overflowing From your knee, O most unhappy, On the floor in torrents gushing.20 Other words I well remember, But the oldest I recall not, How the iron was first created, And the unworked ore was fashioned.” Then the aged Väinämöinen Answered in the words that follow: “Well I know the birth of Iron, And how steel was first created. Air is the primeval mother, Water is the eldest brother,30 Iron is the youngest brother, And the Fire in midst between them. “Ukko, mightiest of Creators, He, the God above in heaven, From the Air the Water parted, And the continents from water, When unborn was evil Iron, Uncreated, undeveloped. “Ukko, God of realms supernal,
Rubbed his mighty hands together.40 Both his hands he rubbed together, On his left knee then he pressed them, And three maidens were created, Three fair Daughters of Creation, Mothers of the rust of Iron, And of blue-mouthed steel the fosterers. “Strolled the maids with faltering footsteps
On the borders of the cloudlets, And their full breasts were o’erflowing,
And their nipples pained them sorely.50 Down on earth their milk ran over, From their breasts’ o’erflowing fulness, ​Milk on land, and milk on marshes,
Milk upon the peaceful waters. “Black milk from the first was flowing, From the eldest of the maidens, White milk issued from another, From the second of the maidens, Red milk by the third was yielded, By the youngest of the maidens.60 “Where the black milk had been dropping, There was found the softest Iron, Where the white milk had been flowing, There the hardest steel was fashioned, Where the red milk had been trickling, There was undeveloped Iron. “But a short time had passed over, When the Iron desired to visit Him, its dearest elder brother, And to make the Fire’s acquaintance.70 “But the Fire arose in fury, Blazing up in greatest anger, Seeking to consume its victim, E’en the wretched Iron, its brother. “Then the Iron sought out a refuge,
Sought for refuge and protection From the hands of furious Fire, From his mouth, all bright with anger. “Then the Iron took refuge from him,
Sought both refuge and protection80 Down amid the quaking marshes, Where the springs have many sources, On the level mighty marshes, On the void and barren mountains, Where the swans their eggs deposit, And the goose her brood is rearing. “In the swamps lay hid the Iron, Stretched beneath the marshy surface, Hid for one year and a second, For a third year likewise hidden,90 Hidden there between two tree-stumps, ’Neath three roots of birch-trees hidden, ​But it had not yet found safety From the fierce hands of the Fire, And a second time it wandered To the dwelling of the Fire, That it should be forged to weapons,
And to sword-blades should be fashioned. “On the marshes wolves were running, On the heath the bears came trooping.100 ’Neath the wolves’ feet quaked the marshes, ’Neath the bears the heath was shaken, Thus was ore of iron uncovered, And the bars of steel were noticed, Where the claws of wolves had trodden, And the paws of bears had trampled. “Then was born smith Ilmarinen, Thus was born, and thus was nurtured, Born upon a hill of charcoal, Reared upon a plain of charcoal,110 In his hands a copper hammer, And his little pincers likewise. “Ilmari was born at night-time, And at day he built his smithy, Sought a place to build his smithy, Where he could construct his bellows, In the swamp he found a land-ridge, And a small place in the marshes, So he went to gaze upon it, And examined the surroundings,120
And erected there his bellows, And his anvil there constructed. “Then he hastened to the wolf-tracks,
And the bear-tracks also followed, And the ore of iron he saw there, And the lumps of steel he found there, In the wolves’ enormous footprints; Where the bears’ paws left their imprints. Then he spoke the words which follow: “‘O thou most unlucky Iron, 130 In an ill abode thou dwellest, In a very lowly station, ​’Neath the wolf-prints in the marshes, And the imprints of the bear-paws.’ “Then he pondered and reflected, ‘What would be the upshot of it, If I cast it in the fire, And I laid it on the anvil?’ “Sore alarmed was hapless Iron,
Sore alarmed, and greatly startled,140 When of Fire it heard him speaking, Speaking of the furious Fire. “Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
‘But indeed it cannot happen; Fire his friends will never injure, Nor will harm his dear relations. If you seek the Fire’s red chamber, All illumined with its brightness, You will greatly gain in beauty, And your splendour greatly increase.150 Fitted thus for men’s keen sword-blades Or as clasps for women’s girdles.’ “Therefore when the day was ended,
Was the Iron from out the marshes, Delved from all the swampy places, Carried homeward to the smithy. “Then he cast it in the furnace,
And he laid it on the anvil, Blew a blast, and then a second, And he blew again a third time,160 Till the Iron was fully softened, And the ore completely melted, Like to wheaten dough in softness, Soft as dough for rye-bread kneaded, In the furnace of the smithy, By the bright flame’s softening power. “Then exclaimed the Iron unhappy,
‘O thou smith, O Ilmarinen, Take me quickly from this furnace, From the red flames that torment me.’170 “Said the smith, said Ilmarinen,
‘If I take you from the furnace, ​Perhaps you might become outrageous, And commit some furious action. Perhaps you might attack your brother,
And your mother’s child might injure.' “Therefore swore the Iron unhappy, By the oaths of all most solemn, By the forge and by the anvil, By the hammer and the mallet,180 And it said the words which follow, And expressed itself in this wise: ‘Give me trees that I can bite them, Give me stones that I may break them, I will not assault my brother, Nor my mother’s child will injure. Better will be my existence, And my life will be more happy, If I dwell among companions, As the tools of handicraftsmen,190
Than to wound my own relations, And disgrace my own connections.’ “Then the smith, e’en Ilmarinen,
He, the great primeval craftsman, From the fire removed the Iron; Laid it down upon the anvil, Welded it till it was wearied, Shaped it into pointed weapons, Into spears, and into axes, Into tools of all descriptions.200
Still there was a trifle wanting, And the soft Iron still defective, For the tongue of Iron had hissed not, And its mouth of steel was formed not, For the Iron was not yet hardened, Nor with water had been tempered. “Then the smith, e’en Ilmarinen,
Pondered over what was needed, Mixed a small supply of ashes, And some lye he added to it,210 To the blue steel’s smelting mixture, For the tempering of the Iron. ​“With his tongue he tried the liquid,
Tasted it if it would please him, And he spoke the words which follow: ‘Even yet it does not please me For the blue steel’s smelting mixture, And perfecting of the Iron.’ From without a bee came flying, Blue-winged from the grassy hillocks,220
Hovering forwards, hovering backwards, Hovering all around the smithy. “Then the smith spoke up as follows:
‘O thou bee, my nimble comrade, Honey on thy wings convey me, On thy tongue from out the forest, From the summits of six flowerets, And from seven tall grass-stems bring it,
For the blue steel’s smelting mixture, And the tempering of the Iron.’230 “But the hornet, Bird of Hiisi, Looked around him, and he listened, Gazing from beside the roof-tree, Looking from below the birch-bark, At the tempering of the Iron, And the blue steel’s smelting mixture. “Thence he flew on whirring pinions, Scattering all of Hiisi’s terrors, Brought the hissing of the serpents, And of snakes the dusky venom,240 And of ants he brought the acid, And of toads the hidden poison, That the steel might thus be poisoned,
In the tempering of the Iron. “Then the smith, e’en Ilmarinen,
He, the greatest of the craftsmen, Was deluded, and imagined That the bee returned already, And had brought the honey needed, Brought the honey that he wanted,250 And he spoke the words which follow: ‘Here at last is what will please me, ​For the blue steel’s smelting mixture, And the tempering of the Iron.’ “Thereupon the steel he lifted,
In he plunged the luckless Iron, As from out the fire he took it, And he took it from the anvil. “Then indeed the steel was angry,
And the Iron was seized with fury.260 And its oath the wretch has broken, Like a dog has soiled its honour, Brutally its brother bitten, Striking at its own relations, Let the blood rush forth in torrents,
From the wound in torrents gushing.” From the stove the old man mumbled,
(Shook his beard, his head he nodded) “Now I know whence comes the Iron, And of steel the evil customs.270 “O thou most unhappy Iron, Wretched Iron, slag most worthless, Steel thou art of evil witchcraft, Thou hast been for nought developed, But to turn to evil courses, In the greatness of thy power. “Once thou wast devoid of greatness;
Neither wast thou great nor little, Neither noted for thy beauty, Nor remarkable for evil,280 When as milk thou wast created, When the sweet milk trickled over From the breasts of youthful maidens, From the maidens’ swelling bosoms, On the borders of the cloudland, ’Neath the broad expanse of heaven. “Thou wast then devoid of greatness, Thou wast neither great nor little, When thou in the mud wast resting, Sunk below the sparkling water,290 Overspreading all the marshland, At the base of rocky mountains, ​And in loose earth thou wast altered, And to iron-ore converted. “Thou wast still devoid of greatness, Thou wast neither great nor little, When the elks were trampling o’er thee, And the reindeer, in the marshes, When the wolves’ claws trod upon thee, And the bears’ paws passed above thee.300 “Thou wast still devoid of greatness, Thou wast neither great nor little, When thou from the marsh wast gathered, From the ground with care uplifted, Carried thence into the smithy, To the forge of Ilmarinen. “Thou wast still devoid of greatness, Thou wast neither great nor little, When as ore thou there wast hissing, Plunged amid the boiling water,310 Or amid the fiery furnace, When the mighty oath thou sworest, By the forge and by the anvil, By the hammer and the mallet, Where the smith himself was standing,
On the flooring of the smithy. “Now that thou hast grown to greatness, Thou hast wrought thyself to frenzy, And thy mighty oath hast broken, Like a dog hast soiled thy honour,320 For thy kinsman thou hast wounded, Raised thy mouth against thy kinsman. “Who hast led thee to this outrage,
To this wickedness incited? Perhaps thy father or thy mother, Or the eldest of thy brothers, Or the youngest of thy sisters, Or some other near relation? “Not thy father, not thy mother, Nor the eldest of thy brothers,330 Nor the youngest of thy sisters, Nor some other near relation. ​Thou thyself hast wrought the evil, And hast done a deadly outrage. Come thyself to see the mischief, And to remedy the evil. Come, before I tell thy mother,
And complain unto thy parents, More will be thy mother's trouble, Great the anguish of thy parents,340 That their son had wrought this evil, And their son had wrought this folly. “Hear me, Blood, and cease thy flowing,
O thou Bloodstream, rush no longer, Nor upon my head spirt further, Nor upon my breast down-trickle. Like a wall, O Blood, arrest thee, Like a fence, O Bloodstream, stand thou, As a flag in lakelet standing, Like a reed in moss-grown country,350 Like the bank that bounds the cornfield, Like a rock in raging torrent. “But thy own sense ought to teach thee
How that thou should’st run more smoothly. In the flesh should’st thou be moving, With thy current smoothly flowing. In the body is it better, Underneath the skin more lovely Through the veins to trace thy pathway,
With thy current smoothly flowing,360 Than upon the earth rush downward, And among the dust to trickle. “Flow not, milk, upon the flooring,
Soil thou not, O Blood, the meadows, Nor the grass, O crown of manhood, Nor the hillocks, gold of heroes. In the heart should be thy dwelling, And among the lungs’ dark cellars. Thither then withdraw thou quickly, There withdraw upon the instant.370 Do not issue like a river, Nor as pond extend thy billows, ​Trickling forth from out the marshes,
Nor to leak like boats when damaged. “Therefore, dear one, cease thy flowing,
Crimson Blood, drip down no longer, Not impeded, but contented. Dry were once the Falls of Tyrja, Likewise Tuonela’s dread river, Dry the lake and dry the heaven,380 In the mighty droughts of summer, In the evil times of bush-fires. “If thou wilt not yet obey me,
Still I know another method, And resort to fresh enchantments: And I call for Hiisi’s caldron, And will boil the blood within it All the blood that forth has issued, So that not a drop escapes me, That the red blood flows no longer,390 Nor the blood to earth drops downward, And the blood no more may issue. “But if manly strength has failed me, Nor is Ukko’s son a hero, Who can stop this inundation, Stem the swift arterial torrent, Thou our Father in the heavens, Jumala, the clouds who rulest, Thou hast manly strength sufficient, Thou thyself the mighty hero,400 Who shall close the blood’s wide gateway, And shall stem the blood escaping. “Ukko, O thou great Creator, Jumala, aloft in heaven, Hither come where thou art needed, Hither come where we implore thee, Press thy mighty hands upon it, Press thy mighty thumbs upon it, And the painful wound close firmly, And the door whence comes the evil,410 Spread the tender leaves upon it, Leaves of golden water-lily, ​Thus to close the path of bleeding,
And to stem the rushing torrent, That upon my beard it spirts not, Nor upon my rags may trickle." Thus he closed the bleeding opening, Stemming thus the bloody torrent, Sent his son into the smithy, To prepare a healing ointment420 From the blades of magic grasses, From the thousand-headed yarrow, And from dripping mountain-honey, Falling down in drops of sweetness. Then the boy went to the smithy, To prepare the healing ointment, On the way he passed an oak-tree, And he stopped and asked the oak-tree, “Have you honey on your branches? And beneath your bark sweet honey?”430 And the oak-tree gave him answer, “Yesterday, throughout the evening, Dripped the honey on my branches, On my summit splashed the honey, From the clouds dropped down the honey,
From the scattered clouds distilling.” Then he took the slender oak-twigs, From the tree the broken fragments, Took the best among the grasses, Gathered many kinds of herbage,440 Herbs one sees not in this country; Such were mostly what he gathered. Then he placed them o’er the furnace, And the mixture brought to boiling; Both the bark from off the oak-tree, And the finest of the grasses. Thus the pot was boiling fiercely, Three long nights he kept it boiling, And for three days of the springtime, While he watched the ointment closely,450 If the salve was fit for using, And the magic ointment ready. ​But the salve was still unfinished,
Nor the magic ointment ready; Grasses to the mass he added, Added herbs of many species, Which were brought from other places, Gathered on a hundred pathways, These were culled by nine magicians, And by eight wise seers discovered.460 Then for three nights more he boiled it, And for nine nights in succession; Took the pot from off the furnace, And the salve with care examined, If the salve was fit for using, And the magic ointment ready Here there grew a branching aspen, On the borders of the cornfield, And in twain he broke the aspen, And the tree completely severed,470 With the magic salve he smeared it, Carefully the ointment tested, And he spoke the words which follow:
“As I with this magic ointment Smear the injured crown all over, Let no harm be left upon it, Let the aspen stand uninjured, Even as it stood aforetime.” Then at once was healed the aspen, Even as it stood aforetime,480 And its crown was far more lovely, And the trunk below was healthy. Then again he took the ointment, And the salve again he tested, And on broken stones he tried it, And on shattered rocks he rubbed it, And the stone with stone knit firmly, And the cracks were fixed together. From the forge the boy came homeward, When the salve was fit for using,490 With the ointment quite perfected, In the old man’s hands he placed it. ​“Here I bring a perfect ointment,
And the magic salve is ready. It could fuse the hills together, In a single rock unite them.” With his tongue the old man tried it, With his mouth the liquid tasted, And the ointment tasted perfect, And the salve was most efficient.500 This he smeared on Väinämöinen, And with this he healed the sufferer; Stroked him downward, stroked him upward, Rubbed him also on the middle, And he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in this wise: “’Tis not I who use my muscles, But ’tis the Creator moves them; With my own strength do not labour, But with strength from the Almighty.510 With my mouth I speak not to you; Jumala’s own mouth speaks with you, If my speech is sweet unto you, Jumala’s own speech is sweeter. Even if my hands are lovely, The Creator’s hands are fairer.” When the salve was rubbed upon him, And the healing ointment touched him, Almost fainting with the anguish, Väinämöinen writhed and struggled.520 Turning this way, turning that way, Seeking ease, but never finding. Then the old man banned the suffering, Far away he drove the anguish, To the central Hill of Tortures, To the topmost Mount of Suffering, There to fill the stones with anguish, And the slabs of rock to torture. Then he took a silken fabric, And in strips he quickly cut it;530 From the edge he tore the fragments, And at once he formed a bandage; ​Then he took the silken bandage, And with utmost care he wound it, Round the knees he wound it deftly, Round the toes of Väinämöinen. Then he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in this wise: “Thus I use God’s silken bandage, The Creator’s mantle wind I540 Round the great knees of the patient, Round the toes of one most noble. Watch thou, Jumala most gracious, Give thy aid, O great Creator, That we fall not in misfortune, That no evil may o’ertake us.” Then the aged Väinämöinen Felt he had regained his vigour, And that he was healed completely, And his flesh again was solid,550 And beneath it all was healthy. In his body he was painless, And his sides were quite uninjured,
From above the wounds had vanished, Stronger felt he than aforetime, Better than in former seasons. On his feet he now was walking And could bend his knees in stamping; Not the least of pain he suffered, Not a trace remained of aching.560 Then the aged Väinämöinen, Lifted up his eyes to heaven, Gazing up to God most gracious, Lifting up his head to heaven, And he spoke the words which follow, And expressed himself in this wise: “Thence all mercy flows for ever, Thence comes aid the most effective, From the heaven that arches o’er us, From the omnipotent Creator.570 “Praise to Jumala most gracious, Praise to thee, O great Creator, ​That thy aid them hast vouchsafed me, Granted me thy strong protection, When my suffering was the greatest, From the edge of sharpest Iron." Then the aged Väinämöinen Further spoke these words of warning: “People, henceforth in the future On your present welfare build not,580 Make no boat in mood of boasting, Nor confide too much in boat-ribs. God foresees the course of by-ways, The Creator orders all things; Not the foresight of the heroes, Nor the might of all the great ones.”