"Therefore who shall chant unto us,
And whose tongue shall sing unto us,
At the wedding feast of Pohja,
This carouse at Sariola held?280
Benches will not sing unto us,
Save when people sit upon them,
Nor will floors hold cheerful converse,
Save when people walk upon them,
Neither are the windows joyful,
If the lords should gaze not from them,
Nor resound the table's edges,
If men sit not round the tables,
Neither do the smoke-holes echo,
If men sit not 'neath the smoke-holes."290
On the floor a child was sitting,
On the stove-bench sat a milkbeard,
From the floor exclaimed the infant,
And the boy spoke from the stove-bench:
"I am not in years a father,
Undeveloped yet my body,
But however small I may be,
If the other big ones sing not,
And the stouter men will shout not,
And the rosier cheeked will sing not,300
Then I'll sing, although a lean boy,
Though a thin boy, I will whistle,
I will sing, though weak and meagre,
Though my stomach is not rounded,
That the evening may be cheerful,
And the day may be more honoured."
By the stove there sat an old man,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"That the children sing befits not,
Nor these feeble folk should carol.310
Children's songs are only falsehoods,
And the songs of girls are foolish.
Let the wisest sing among us,
Who upon the bench is seated."
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
Answered in the words which follow:
"Are there any who are youthful,
Of the noblest of the people,
Who will clasp their hands together,
Hook their hands in one another,320
And begin to speak unto us,
Swaying back and forth in singing,
That the day may be more joyful,
And the evening be more blessed?"
From the stove there spoke the old man,
"Never was it heard among us,
Never heard or seen among us,
Nor so long as time existed,
That there lived a better minstrel,
One more skilled in all enchantment,330
Than myself when I was warbling,
As a child when I was singing,
Singing sweetly by the water,
Making all the heath re-echo,
Chanting loudly in the firwood,
Talking likewise In the forest.
"Then my voice was loud and tuneful,
And its tones were most melodious,
Like the flowing of a river,
Or the murmur of a streamlet,340
Gliding as o'er snow the snowshoes,
Like a yacht across the billows;
But 'tis hard for me to tell you
How my wisdom has departed,
How my voice so strong has failed me,
And its sweetness has departed.
Now it flows no more like river,
Rising like the tossing billows,
But it halts like rake in stubble,
Like the hoe among the pine-roots,350
Like a sledge in sand embedded,
Or a boat on rocks when stranded."
Then the aged Väinämöinen
In such words as these expressed him:
"If no other bard comes forward
To accompany my singing,
Then alone my songs I'll carol,
And will now commence my singing,
For to sing was I created,
As an orator was fashioned;360
How, I ask not in the village,
Nor I learn my songs from strangers."
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Of the song the lifelong pillar,
Set him to the pleasant labour,
Girt him for the toil of singing,
Loud he sang his songs so pleasing,
Loud he spoke his words of wisdom.
Sang the aged Väinämöinen,
Sang by turns, and spoke his wisdom,370
Nor did words that suited fall him,
Neither were his songs exhausted,
Sooner stones in rocks were missing,
Or a pond lacked water-lilies.
Therefore thus sang Väinämöinen
Through the evening for their pleasure,
And the women all were laughing,
And the men in high good-humour,
While they listened and they wondered
At the chants of Väinämöinen,380
For amazement filled the hearers,
Wonder those who heard him singing.