"Therefore, dear one, cease thy flowing,
Crimson Blood, drip down no longer,
Not impeded, but contented.
Dry were once the Falls of Tyrja,
Likewise Tuonela's dread river,
Dry the lake and dry the heaven,380
In the mighty droughts of summer,
In the evil times of bush-fires.
"If thou wilt not yet obey me,
Still I know another method,
And resort to fresh enchantments:
And I call for Hiisi's caldron,
And will boil the blood within it
All the blood that forth has issued,
So that not a drop escapes me,
That the red blood flows no longer,390
Nor the blood to earth drops downward,
And the blood no more may issue.
"But if manly strength has failed me,
Nor is Ukko's son a hero,
Who can stop this inundation,
Stem the swift arterial torrent,
Thou our Father in the heavens,
Jumala, the clouds who rulest,
Thou hast manly strength sufficient,
Thou thyself the mighty hero,400
Who shall close the blood's wide gateway,
And shall stem the blood escaping.
"Ukko, O thou great Creator,
Jumala, aloft in heaven,
Hither come where thou art needed,
Hither come where we implore thee,
Press thy mighty hands upon it,
Press thy mighty thumbs upon it,
And the painful wound close firmly,
And the door whence comes the evil,410
Spread the tender leaves upon it,
Leaves of golden water-lily,
Thus to close the path of bleeding,
And to stem the rushing torrent,
That upon my beard it spirts not,
Nor upon my rags may trickle."
Thus he closed the bleeding opening,
Stemming thus the bloody torrent,
Sent his son into the smithy,
To prepare a healing ointment420
From the blades of magic grasses,
From the thousand-headed yarrow,
And from dripping mountain-honey,
Falling down in drops of sweetness.
Then the boy went to the smithy,
To prepare the healing ointment,
On the way he passed an oak-tree,
And he stopped and asked the oak-tree,
"Have you honey on your branches?
And beneath your bark sweet honey?"430
And the oak-tree gave him answer,
"Yesterday, throughout the evening,
Dripped the honey on my branches,
On my summit splashed the honey,
From the clouds dropped down the honey,
From the scattered clouds distilling."
Then he took the slender oak-twigs,
From the tree the broken fragments,
Took the best among the grasses,
Gathered many kinds of herbage,440
Herbs one sees not in this country;
Such were mostly what he gathered.
Then he placed them o'er the furnace,
And the mixture brought to boiling;
Both the bark from off the oak-tree,
And the finest of the grasses.
Thus the pot was boiling fiercely,
Three long nights he kept it boiling,
And for three days of the springtime,
While he watched the ointment closely,450
If the salve was fit for using,
And the magic ointment ready.
But the salve was still unfinished,
Nor the magic ointment ready;
Grasses to the mass he added,
Added herbs of many species,
Which were brought from other places,
Gathered on a hundred pathways,
These were culled by nine magicians,
And by eight wise seers discovered.460
Then for three nights more he boiled it,
And for nine nights in succession;
Took the pot from off the furnace,
And the salve with care examined,
If the salve was fit for using,
And the magic ointment ready