After this they sought a butcher,
Who the mighty ox could slaughter,
From Carelia's lovely country,
From the vast expanse of Suomi,
From the peaceful land of Russia,
From the hardy land of Sweden,
From the regions wide of Lapland,
From the mighty land of Turja,80
And they sought through Tuoni's regions,
In the depths of Mana's kingdom,
And they sought, but no one found they,
Long they searched; but vainly searched they.
Yet again they sought a butcher,
Sought again to find a slaughterer,
On the ocean's shining surface,
On the wide-extending billows.
From the dark sea rose a hero,
Rose a hero from the sea-swell,90
From the shining surface rising,
From the wide expanse of water.
He was not among the greatest,
But in nowise of the smallest.
In a bowl would he lie sleeping,
And beneath a sieve stand upright.
'Twas an old man, iron-fisted,
Iron-coloured, too, to gaze on;
On his head a stony helmet;
Shoes of stone his feet protected;100
In his hand a knife, gold-bladed,
And the haft o'erlaid with copper.
Thus the people found a butcher,
And at length they found a slaughterer,
Who should fell the bull of Suomi,
And should fell the country's marvel.
Scarce had he beheld the quarry,
Than at once his neck he shattered,
On his knees he forced the bullock,
And upon his side he threw him.110
Did he yield them much provisions?
Not so very much he yielded.
Of his flesh a hundred barrels,
And a hundred fathoms sausage;
Seven boat-loads of blood they gathered,
Six large casks with fat were loaded,
All for Pohjola's great banquet,
Feast of Sariola the misty.
Then they built a house in Pohja,
Built a house with hall enormous,120
Fathoms nine its sides extended,
And the breadth thereof was seven.
If a cock crowed at the smoke-hole,
Underneath they could not hear it,
If a dog at end was barking,
At the door they did not hear it.
Then did Pohjola's old Mistress
Walk across the flooring's planking,
To the middle of the chamber,
And she pondered and reflected:130
"How shall I get ale sufficient,
And shall brew the beer most wisely,
To prepare it for the wedding,
When the beer will much be needed?
How to brew the beer I know not,
Nor how ale was first concocted."
By the stove there sat an old man,
From the stove spoke up the old man:
"Ale of barley is concocted,
And the drink with hops is flavoured,140
Yet they brew not save with water,
And the aid of furious fire.
"Hop is called the son of Revel;
Planted in the ground when little,
With a plough they ploughed the region,
Like an ant, away they cast him
Close to Kaleva's great well-spring,
There where Osmo's field is sloping;
There the tender plant sprang upward,
And the green shoot mounted quickly.150
Up a little tree it mounted,
Rising to the leafy summit.
"Sowed, by chance, an old man barley,
In the fresh-ploughed field of Osmo,
And the barley sprouted bravely,
And It grew and flourished greatly,
On the new-ploughed field of Osmo,
Kaleva's descendant's cornland.
"But a little time passed over,
When the hops exclaimed from tree-top,160
And upon the field the barley,
And in Kaleva's well-water,
'When shall we be yoked together,
Each with other be united?
Life in solitude is weary;
Better two or three together.'