Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Grasped the sharpened sword he carried, 320
Looked upon the sword and turned it,
And he questioned it and asked it,
And he asked the sword's opinion,
If it was disposed to slay him,
To devour his guilty body,
And his evil blood to swallow.
Understood the sword his meaning,
Understood the hero's question,
And it answered him as follows:
"Wherefore at thy heart's desire 330
Should I not thy flesh devour,
And drink up thy blood so evil?
I who guiltless flesh have eaten,
Drank the blood of those who sinned not?"
Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
With the very bluest stockings,
On the ground the haft set firmly,
On the heath the hilt pressed tightly,
Turned the point against his bosom,
And upon the point he threw him, 340
Thus he found the death he sought for,
Cast himself into destruction.
Even so the young man perished,
Thus died Kullervo the hero,
Thus the hero's life was ended,
Perished thus the hapless hero.
Then the aged Väinämöinen,
When he heard that he had perished,
And that Kullervo had fallen,
Spoke his mind in words that follow: 350
"Never, people, in the future,
Rear a child in crooked fashion,
Rocking them in stupid fashion,
Soothing them to sleep like strangers.
Children reared in crooked fashion,
Boys thus rocked in stupid fashion,
Grow not up with understanding,
Nor attain to man's discretion,
Though they live till they are aged,
And in body well-developed." 360
Runo XXXVII.—The Gold and Silver Bride
Argument
Ilmarinen weeps long for his dead wife and then forges himself a wife of gold and silver with great labour and trouble (1-162). At night he rests by the golden bride, but finds in the morning that the side which he has turned towards her is quite cold (163-196). He offers his golden bride to Väinämöinen, who declines to receive her, and advises him to forge more useful things, or to send her to other countries where people wish for gold (197-250).
Afterwards smith Ilmarinen
Mourned his wife throughout the evenings,
And through sleepless nights was weeping,
All the days bewailed her fasting,
And he mourned her all the mornings,
In the morning hours lamented,
Since the time his young wife perished,
Death the fair one had o'ertaken.
In his hand he swung no longer,
Copper handle of his hammer, 10
Nor his hammer's clang resounded,
While a month its course was running.