Väinämöinen goes to seek for his kantele which was lost in the lake, but cannot find it (1-76). He makes himself a new kantele of birchwood, on which he plays, and delights every creature in the neighbourhood (77-334).
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
In his mind was thus reflecting:
"Now the time has come for music,
Time to give ourselves to pleasure,
In our dwelling newly chosen,
In our homestead now so charming,
But the kantele is sunken,
And my joy has gone for ever
To the dwelling-place of fishes,
To the rock-caves of the salmon, 10
Where it may enchant the lake-pike,
Likewise Vellamo's attendants;
But they never will return it,
Ahto will no more return it.
"O thou smith, O Ilmarinen,
Yestreen and before thou workedst,
Work to-day with equal vigour.
Forge me now a rake of iron,
Let the teeth be close together,
Close the teeth, and long the handle 20
That I rake among the billows,
And may rake the waves together,
And may rake among the lake-reeds,
With the rake rake all the margins,
And my instrument recover,
And the kantele recover,
From the devious paths of fishes,
From the rocky caves of salmon."
Thereupon smith Ilmarinen,
He the great primeval craftsman, 30
Forged for him a rake of iron,
Furnished with a copper handle,
Teeth in length a hundred fathoms,
And the handle full five hundred.
Then the aged Väinämöinen
Took the mighty rake of iron,
And a little way he wandered,
Made a very little journey,
Till he reached the quay, steel-fitted,
And the landing-stage of copper. 40
There he found a boat, found two boats,
Both the boats were waiting ready
On the quay, with steel all fitted,
On the landing-stage of copper,
And the first boat was a new one,
And the second was an old one.
Said the aged Väinämöinen,
To the new boat firstly speaking:
"Go, thou boat, into the water,
To the waves, O vessel, rush thou, 50
Even though no arm should turn thee,
Even though no thumbs should touch thee."
Sped the boat into the water,
Rushed amid the waves the vessel.
Old and steadfast Väinämöinen,
In the stern made haste to seat him,
And he went to sweep the water,
And to sweep among the billows.
Scattered leaves of water-lilies,
Raked he up among the shore-drift, 60
All the rubbish raked together,
All the rubbish, bits of rushes,
Every scrap he raked together,
All the shoals with care raked over,
But he found not, nor discovered,
Where his pike-bone harp was hidden,
And this joy was gone for ever,
With the kantele was sunken.
Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,
Then returned unto his dwelling, 70
Head bowed down, and sadly grieving,
And his cap awry adjusted,
And he said the words which follow:
"Unto me is lost for ever
Pleasure from the harp of pike-teeth,
From the harp I made of fish-bone."
As he wandered through the country,
On the borders of the woodlands,
There he heard a birch-tree weeping,
And a speckled tree lamenting, 80
And in that direction hastened,
Walking till he reached the birch-tree.
Thereupon he spoke and asked it,
"Wherefore weep'st thou, beauteous birch-tree,
Shedding tears, O green-leaved birch-tree,
By thy belt of white conspicuous?
To the war thou art not taken,
Longest not for battle-struggle."