Said the aged Väinämöinen,
Head bowed down, and deeply grieving,
"Sister thou of Joukahainen,
Once again return, I pray thee."
But she never more came near him,
Ne'er again throughout his lifetime;
For she turned away, and, diving,140
Vanished from the water's surface
Down among the rocks so varied,
In a liver-coloured crevice.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Pondered deeply, and reflected,
What to do, and what was needful
Quick he wove a net all silken,
And he drew it straight and crossways,
Through the reach, and then across it,
Drew it through the quiet waters,150
Through the depths beloved by salmons
And through Väinölä's deep waters.
And by Kalevala's sharp headlands,
Through the deep, dark watery caverns,
And the wide expanse of water,
And through Joukola's great rivers,
And across the bays of Lapland.
Other fish he caught in plenty,
All the fishes of the waters,
Only not the fish he sought for,160
Which he kept in mind for ever,
Never Vellamo's fair maiden,
Not the dearest child of Ahto.
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
Bowed his head, lamenting deeply,
With his cap adjusted sideways,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"O how grievous is my folly,
Weak am I in manly wisdom,
Once indeed was understanding,170
Insight too conferred upon me,
And my heart was great within me;
Such in former times my portion.
But in days that now are passing.
In the evil days upon me,
Now my strength with age is failing,
All my understanding weakens
And my insight has departed,
All my judgment is perverted.
"She for whom long years I waited,180
Whom for half my life I longed for,
Vellamo's fair water-maiden,
Youngest daughter of the surges.
Who should be my friend for ever,
And my wife throughout my lifetime,
Came and seized the bait I offered,
In my boat sprang unresisting,
But I knew not how to hold her,
To my home I could not take her,
But she plunged amid the waters,190
Diving to the depths profoundest."
Then he wandered on a little,
And he walked, in sadness sighing,
To his home direct returning,
And he spoke the words which follow:
"Once indeed the birds were singing,
And my joyous cuckoo hailed me,
Both at morning and at evening,
Likewise, too, in midday hours.
What has stilled their lively music,200
And has hushed their charming voices?
Care has stilled their lively music,
Sorrow checked their cheerful voices,
Therefore do they sing no longer,
Neither at the sun's declining,
To rejoice me in the evening,
Nor to cheer me in the morning.
"Now no more can I consider
How to shape my course of action,
How upon the earth to sojourn,210
How throughout the world to travel.
Would my mother now were living,
And my aged mother waking!
She would surely tell me truly
How to best support my trouble,
That my grief may not o'erwhelm me,
And my sorrow may not crush me,
In these weary days of evil,
In this time of deep depression."
In her grave his mother wakened,220
Answered from beneath the billows:
"Still thy mother lives and hears thee,
And thy aged mother wakens,
That she plainly may advise thee.
How to best support thy trouble.
That thy grief may not o'erwhelm thee,
And thy sorrow may not crush thee,
In these weary days of evil,
In these days of deep depression.
Seek thou out the maids of Pohja,230
Where the daughters are more handsome,
And the maidens twice as lovely,
And are five or six times nimbler,
Not like lazy girls of Jouko,
Lapland's fat and sluggish daughters.
"Thence a wife, O son, provide thee,
From the fairest maids of Pohja;
Choose a maid of fair complexion,
Lovely, too, in every feature,
One whose feet are always nimble,240
Always active in her movements."