"Now will I take Otso's forehead,
That my forehead I may lengthen,
But I take it not completely,
And I do not take it only.
"Now I take the mouth of Otso,
That my own mouth may be lengthened,
But I take it not completely,
And I do not take it only.
"Now I take the tongue of Otso,
That my own tongue may be lengthened, 530
But I take it not completely,
And I do not take it only.
"He shall be a man respected,
And as hero shall be reckoned,
Who the bear's teeth now can number,
And the rows of teeth can loosen
From the jaws of steely hardness,
With his grasp as strong as iron."
As no other man came forward,
And no hero would attempt it, 540
He himself the bear's teeth numbered,
And the rows of teeth he reckoned,
Kneeling down beneath the jawbones,
With his grasp as strong as iron.
From the bear the teeth then taking,
Uttered he the words which follow:
"Otso, apple of the forest,
Fair and bulky forest-dweller,
Thou must go upon thy journey,
Leap along upon the journey, 550
Forth from out this narrow dwelling,
From this low and narrow cottage,
To a lofty house that waits thee,
To a wide and pleasant dwelling.
"Golden one, go forth to wander,
Dearest treasure, march thou onward,
On the swine's path march thou onward,
Traversing the road of piglings,
To the firwood so luxuriant,
To the needle-covered pine-trees, 560
To the hills all clothed with forest,
To the lofty-rising mountains.
Here for thee to dwell is pleasant,
Charming is it to abide there,
Where the cattle-bells are ringing,
And the little bells are tinking."
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
After this his dwelling entered,
And the younger people asked him,
All the handsome people asked him, 570
"Where have you bestowed your booty,
Whither did you make your journey?
Have you left him in the icefield,
In the snow-slush have you sunk him,
Pushed him down in the morasses,
Buried him upon the heathland?"
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Answered in the words which follow:
"In the ice I did not leave him,
Sunk him not among the snow-slush, 580
For the dogs from thence would drag him,
Likewise would the birds befoul him.
In the swamp I have not sunk him,
Nor upon the heath have buried,
For the worms would there destroy him
And the black ants would devour him.
"Thither have I brought my booty,
There bestowed my little captive,
On a golden mountain's summit,
On a copper mountain's summit. 590
In a splendid tree I laid him,
Pine-tree with a hundred needles,
In the very largest branches,
In the broad and leafy summit,
As a joy to men for ever,
And a pleasure to the travellers.