Where springtime's spirit kind on nature smiled,
A wonder came on its appointed day:
The land was waking fast from winter mild,
And cheerful folk their labours deemed but play,
While tones of youths and maidens blushing coy
Mixed with the song of birds to greet the morn.
All felt within them nature's perfect joy,
In ancient times to blissful freedom born.
The Lielvarde Lord strolled in the field,
Together with his son, a lad full fair;
But eighteen youthful summers was the yield,
The span of time that graced the Lord's young heir.
The old man ever sought his son to show
In nature how the Godhead close by stands,
And in its rhythms mighty powers flow,
In heavens, waters, forests, and the lands.
Conversing thus, unmarked their path they found
Into the shadows at the forest's verge;
The old man sat to rest upon the ground,
Beneath the oaks where woods and meadow merge.
When all at once, with angry gnashing jaws,
A savage bear from out the forest ran.
To save himself the old man had no pause-
His life's last breath due in a moment's span.
The young man turned in haste with swiftness rare;
He seized the creature by its gaping jaw,
With mighty strength he tore apart the bear-
A baby goat had troubled him no more.
When thus his son revealed such godlike power,
The old man trembling uttered up this view:
"You are the chosen hero, shown this hour,
As prophesied in ancient times for you."
Bearslayer's origins are revealed
"Full eighteen years ago, this very day,
A little boat ran up upon the land,
And from it stepped a sage both old and grey,
Who held secure an infant in his hand.
Though agéd, still with youthful step he strode,
My task in Fate's great purpose soon laid bare:-
To take this sturdy boy to my abode,
And raise him, teach and train him as my heir."
"This sage was Vaidelots, sent by the gods,
To tell how, deep within the forest wild,
A human babe was found against all odds,
And that a she-bear's milk sustained the child.-
For him, as told, it is the gods' firm will,
To be a hero and to strive for right;
His name with fear the wicked heart will fill,
And evil-doers, trembling, put to flight."
"'There in the West,' his further wisdom said,
'Against the God of Thunder risen stands
A fearsome herd of raging monsters dread,
Whose cross-shaped horns rip at the eastern lands.
The gods will fight, and they will live on all,
But from our people freedom will be lost.
Our famous heroes struggling brave will fall,
Against the foreign foe will pay the cost.'"
"'I Vaidelots a lengthy life have had,
In Romove's sacred grove of oak;
A thousand joyful messages, or sad,
I brought to chieftains or to lesser folk.
This is the worst, this news I bring,
Make known to you, oh Lielvarde's Lord,
More difficult for me no other thing,
That is a part within my life's rich hoard.'"
"'Yet do not grieve, oh countryman, but know:
Remembering the deeds of men of yore,
As ages pass the people's strength will grow,
And battles won will free our race once more.
Though Destiny now not even lets me see,
How long the yoke that on our people falls.-
Behold, the fading sunlight summons me,
The golden Baltic sun my farewell calls!'"