Osma's barley will not flourish,
Not the barley of Wäinölä,
If the soil be not made ready,
If the forest be not levelled,
And the branches burned to ashes.
Only left the birch-tree standing
For the birds a place of resting,
Where might sing the sweet-voiced cuckoo,
Sacred bird in sacred branches.
One could go on quoting passages from this strange epic—but suffice it to say that in the forty-sixth rune Wäinämöinen speaks to Otso, the bear—
Otso, thou my well beloved,
Honey eater of the woodlands,
Let not anger swell thy bosom.
Otso was not born a beggar,
Was not born among the rushes,
Was not cradled in a manger;
Honey-paw was born in ether
In the regions of the Moonland.
With the chains of gold she bound it
To the pine-tree's topmost branches.
There she rocked the thing of magic,
Rocked to life the tender baby,
'Mid the blossoms of the pine-tree,
On the fir-top set with needles;
Thus the young bear well was nurtured.
Sacred Otso grew and flourished,
Quickly grew with graceful movements,
Short of feet, with crooked ankles,
Wide of mouth and broad of forehead,
Short his nose, his fur robe velvet;
But his claws were not well fashioned,
Neither were his teeth implanted.
Swore the bear a sacred promise
That he would not harm the worthy,
Never do a deed of evil.
Then Mielikki, woodland hostess,
Wisest maid of Tapiola,
Sought for teeth and claws to give him,
From the stoutest mountain-ashes,
From the juniper and oak-tree,
From the dry knots of the alder.
Teeth and claws of these were worthless,
Would not render goodly service.
Grew a fir-tree on the mountain,
Grew a stately pine in Northland,
And the fir had silver branches,
Bearing golden cones abundant;
These the sylvan maiden gathered,
Teeth and claws of these she fashioned,
In the jaws and feet of Otso
Set them for the best of uses.
Taught him how to walk a hero.
He freely gave his life to others.
These are only a few stanzas taken haphazard from Kalevala, but they give some idea of its power.