# Kalevala (Kirby 1907)/Runo 8

Layout 2
Runo VIII.—Väinämöinen’s Wound
Argument
On his journey Väinämöinen encounters the magnificently-clad Maiden of Pohja, and makes advances to her (1-50). The maiden at length consents to his wishes if he will make a boat from the splinters of her spindle, and move it into the water without touching it (51-132). Väinämöinen sets to work, but wounds his knee severely with his axe, and cannot stanch the flow of blood (133-204). He goes in search of some magic remedy and finds an old man who promises to stop the bleeding (205-282).
Lovely was the maid of Pohja,
Famed on land, on water peerless, On the arch of air high-seated, Brightly shining on the rainbow, Clad in robes of dazzling lustre, Clad in raiment white and shining. There she wove a golden fabric, Interwoven all with silver, And her shuttle was all golden, And her comb was all of silver.10 From her hand flew swift the shuttle, In her hands the reel was turning, And the copper shafts they clattered, And the silver comb resounded, As the maiden wove the fabric, And with silver interwove it. Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Thundered on upon his journey, From the gloomy land of Pohja, Sariola for ever misty.20 Short the distance he had travelled, Short the way that he had journeyed, When he heard the shuttle whizzing, High above his head he heard it. Thereupon his head he lifted, And he gazed aloft to heaven, ​And beheld a glorious rainbow; On the arch the maiden seated, As she wove a golden fabric, As the silver comb resounded.30 Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Stayed his horse upon the instant, And he raised his voice, and speaking, In such words as these addressed her: “Come into my sledge, O maiden, In the sledge beside me seat thee.” Then the maiden made him answer, And in words like these responded: “Wherefore should the maiden join you, In the sledge beside you seated?”40 Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Heard her words, and then responded: “Therefore should the maiden join me, In the sledge beside me seat her; Bread of honey to prepare me, And the best of beer to brew me, Singing blithely on the benches, Gaily talking at the window, When in Väinölä I sojourn, At my home in Kalevala.”50 Then the maiden gave him answer, And in words like these addressed him: “As I wandered through the bedstraw, Tripping o’er the yellow meadows, Yesterday, in time of evening, As the sun was slowly sinking, In the bush a bird was singing, And I heard the fieldfare trilling, Singing of the whims of maidens, And the whims of new-wed damsels.60 “Thus the bird was speaking to me, And I questioned it in this wise: ‘Tell me O thou little fieldfare, Sing thou, that my ears may hear it, Whether it indeed is better, Whether thou hast heard ’tis better, ​For a girl in father’s dwelling, Or in household of a husband?’ “Thereupon the bird made answer, And the fieldfare answered chirping:70 ‘Brilliant is the day in summer, But a maiden’s lot is brighter. And the frost makes cold the iron, Yet the new bride’s lot is colder. In her father’s house a maiden Lives like strawberry in the garden, But a bride in house of husband, Lives like house-dog tightly fettered. To a slave comes rarely pleasure; To a wedded damsel never.’”80 Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words which follow: “Song of birds is idle chatter, And the throstle’s, merely chirping; As a child a daughter’s treated, But a maid must needs be married. Come into my sledge, O maiden, In the sledge beside me seat thee. I am not a man unworthy, Lazier not than other heroes.”90 But the maid gave crafty answer,
And in words like these responded: “As a man I will esteem you, And as hero will regard you, If you can split up a horsehair With a blunt and pointless knife-blade, And an egg in knots you tie me, Yet no knot is seen upon it.” Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Then the hair in twain divided,100 With a blunt and pointless knife-blade, With a knife completely pointless, And an egg in knots he twisted, Yet no knot was seen upon it. Then again he asked the maiden In the sledge to sit beside him. ​But the maid gave crafty answer,
“I perchance at length may join you, If you’ll peel the stone I give you, And a pile of ice will hew me,110 But no splinter scatter from it, Nor the smallest fragment loosen.” Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Did not find the task a hard one. From the stone the rind he severed, And a pile of ice he hewed her, But no splinters scattered from it, Nor the smallest fragment loosened. Then again he asked the maiden In the sledge to sit beside him.120 But the maid gave crafty answer, And she spoke the words which follow: “No, I will not yet go with you, If a boat you cannot carve me, From the splinters of my spindle, From the fragments of my shuttle, And shall launch the boat in water, Push it out upon the billows, But no knee shall press against it, And no hand must even touch it;130 And no arm shall urge it onward, Neither shall a shoulder guide it.” Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Answered in the words which follow: “None in any land or country, Under all the vault of heaven, Like myself can build a vessel, Or so deftly can construct it.” Then he took the spindle-splinters, Of the reel he took the fragments,140 And began the boat to fashion, Fixed a hundred planks together, On a mount of steel he built it, Built it on the rocks of iron. At the boat with zeal he laboured,
Toiling at the work unresting, ​Working thus one day, a second,
On the third day likewise working, But the rocks his axe-blade touched not, And upon the hill it rang not.150 But at length, upon the third day,
Hiisi turned aside the axe-shaft, Lempo turned the edge against him, And an evil stroke delivered. On the rocks the axe-blade glinted, On the hill the blade rang loudly, From the rock the axe rebounded, In the flesh the steel was buried, In the victim’s knee ’twas buried, In the toes of Väinämöinen,160 In the flesh did Lempo drive it, To the veins did Hiisi guide it, From the wound the blood flowed freely,
Bursting forth in streaming torrents. Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, He, the oldest of magicians, Uttered words like those which follow,
And expressed himself in this wise: “O thou evil axe ferocious, With thy edge of gleaming sharpness,170
Thou hast thought to hew a tree-trunk, And to strike upon a pine-tree, Match thyself against a fir-tree, Or to fall upon a birch-tree. ’Tis my flesh that thou hast wounded,
And my veins thou hast divided.” Then his magic spells he uttered,
And himself began to speak them, Spells of origin, for healing, And to close the wound completely.180 But he could not think of any Words of origin of iron, Which might serve to bind the evil,
And to close the gaping edges Of the great wound from the iron, By the blue edge deeply bitten. ​But the blood gushed forth in torrents, Rushing like a foaming river, O’er the berry-bearing bushes, And the heath the ground that covered.190 There remained no single hillock, Which was not completely flooded By the overflowing blood-stream, Which came rushing forth in torrents From the knee of one most worthy, From the toes of Väinämöinen. Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Gathered from the rocks the lichen, From the swamps the moss collected, Earth he gathered from the hillocks,200 Hoping thus to stop the outlet Of the wound that bled so freely, But he could not check the bleeding, Nor restrain it in the slightest. And the pain he felt oppressed him, And the greatest trouble seized him. Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Then began to weep full sorely. Thereupon his horse he harnessed, In the sledge he yoked the chestnut,210
On the sledge himself he mounted, And upon the seat he sat him. O’er the horse his whip he brandished, With the bead-decked whip he lashed him, And the horse sped quickly onward. Rocked the sledge, the way grew shorter, And they quickly reached a village, Where the path in three divided. Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, Drove along the lowest pathway,220 To the lowest of the homesteads, And he asked upon the threshold, “Is there no one in this household, Who can cure the wounds of iron, Who can soothe the hero’s anguish, And can heal the wound that pains him?” ​On the floor a child was playing, By the stove a boy was sitting, And he answered him in this wise: “There is no one in this household230
Who can heal the wounds of iron, Who can soothe the hero’s anguish, To the rock can fix it firmly, And can heal the wound that pains him.
Such may dwell in other houses: Drive away to other houses.” Väinämöinen, old and steadfast, O’er the horse his whip then brandished, And the sledge went rattling onward. Thus a little way he travelled,240 On the midmost of the pathways, To the midmost of the houses, And he asked upon the threshold, And beseeching at the window, “Is there no one in this household,
Who can heal the wounds of iron, Who can stanch the blood when flowing, And can check the rushing bloodstream?” ’Neath the quilt a crone was resting, By the stove there sat a gossip,250 And she spoke and answered plainly, As her three teeth gnashed together, “There is no one in this household, Who can heal the wounds of iron, None who knows efficient blood-spells, And can close the wound that pains you. Such may dwell in other houses: Drive away to other houses.” Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
O’er the horse his whip then brandished,260 And the sledge went rattling onward. Thus a little way he travelled, On the highest of the pathways, To the highest of the houses, And he asked upon the threshold, Calling from beside the doorpost, ​“Is there any in this household, Who can heal the wounds of iron, Who can check this rushing bloodstream,
And can stay the dark red torrent?”270 By the stove an old man rested, On the stove-bed lay a greybeard, From the stove the old man mumbled, And the greybeard cried in answer, “Stemmed before were greater torrents, Greater floods than this were hindered, By three words of the Creator, By the mighty words primeval. Brooks and streams were checked from flowing,
Mighty streams in cataracts falling,280 Bays were formed in rocky headlands, Tongues of land were linked together.”