Magic Songs of the West Finns, Vol. 2, by John Abercromby, [1898], at sacred-texts.com
THE MAGIC SONGS OF THE FINNS
THE MAGIC SONGS OF THE FINNS
§ 1. PRELIMINARY.
a
How at such time is one to speak, and how should one interrogate when a time of danger is at hand, a day of jeopardy impends? Already I, poor, wretched lad, have met with some embarrassment, with toilsome tasks, with a very difficult work, (when summoned) to eject attacks of sickness, to relieve from pain, to banish ailments wrought by spells, and overcome the enemy. Now they have need of me, they need me, and require that I divine an origin profound, and a great injury remove. Shall I begin, make venture now, shall I catch hold, shall I make bold to grip with hands a pestilence, to attack a devil (Perkele) with my hands, to give a hideous one a squeeze, and trample a gigantic one? I cannot anything effect without, maybe, the grace of God, without the true Creator's aid. May the Creator help bestow, O may the Lord assistance give, may God accord his aid to me after receiving my request and after he has touched my hand. May Jesus’ fluent mouth into my mouth transform itself; may the ready tongue of Jesus turn into mine; may Jesus’ pliant fingers into my fingers fit themselves. Where my words cannot reach let God's word reach; where my hands cannot pass let God's
hands enter in; there where my fingers will not serve let the Creator's fingers serve; and where I can't breathe in a breath may the Lord breathe in a breath instead.
b
If haply I 'm not man enough I'll send a better one than I; I'll raise the earth-matrons from the earth, the mounted heroes from the sand, to strengthen me, to give me force, to shelter me, to give support in this extremely toilsome work in a time of sore distress. If haply I am not the man, if Ukko's son is not the man, from a damp dell let men arise, men of the sword from out the mire, glaive-men from out a sandy heath and horsemen from beneath the sand, that in the earth have lain for long, that in the ooze have long reposed, to help a well-beloved son, to be a famous fellow's mate.
c
If haply I am not the man, if Ukko's son is not the man, cannot effect deliverance, nor of this bogie (riena) riddance make, Louhi! mistress of Pohjola, come to effect deliverance and of this bogie riddance make. If haply I am not the man, if Ukko's son is not the man, O Päivätär, thou doughty maid, come to effect deliverance, to remove these plagues, to release from spell-wrought woes. If haply I am not the man, if Ukko's son is not the man, old mother Kave, Nature's daughter, O beautiful and darling Kave, come to effect deliverance, to banish sickness wrought by magic, to free from evils brought by curses. If haply I am not the man, if Ukko's son is not the man, O Hiisi, come from Hiitola, thou humpback! from the home of gods to cast out that which needs must be cast out and cause the monster's death.
d
I that am one of little strength, a full-grown man weak-spirited, shall blow a horn towards the sky, shall through a cloud-rift sound a pipe; I'll shout a cry of dire distress, send forth an agonising cry through earth, through Manala, through the level sky, its gates will burst apart whence favours issue forth. A thousand friends will then arrive, a hundred warriors of the Lord, from the heavens up above, from earth's foundations down below, to strengthen me, the feeble man, to give the weak man manliness in these exceeding toilsome tasks, in these affairs that have no end.
§ 2. DEFENSIVE MEASURES.
a
O where shall I, a powerless man, defend myself, protect myself? There I, a powerless man, defend myself, protect myself, at the open door beneath the shelf, beside the door-post of the hut, at the yard entrance to the lane, at the last gate. There I defend myself against the female throng. If these defences are not strong, these safeguards not reliable, I, powerless man, shall guard myself, I, wretched man, defend me thus against the throng of full-grown men. I'll dress myself inside a copse, in growing bush five suits I'll don on a blue stone's back, where two roads part, at an undulating pool, at a rippling spring, at a rapid's wildly foaming surge, at a whirlpool of a violent stream. There I, the helpless man, shall guard myself, protect myself; I'll put on me an iron shirt, I shall invest myself in steel, equip myself in copper socks, shall gird me with a copper belt ’gainst water, land, ’gainst fire and
flame, against a variegated stone, against the grindstones of the sky. 1 With an iron cap, an iron coat, with an iron helmet o’er my neck, with iron gloves upon my hands, with iron boots upon my feet, with them I'll enter Hiisi's lands, I'll wander over Lempo's lands, and sorcerers’ arrows will not hurt, nor the knife-blades of a witch, nor the instruments of men that shoot, nor a diviner's steel.
b
May the fiery fur-coat of my sire, to serve as a fiery covering, may my mother's fiery shirt, to serve me as a fiery shirt, be brought from Tuonela and put on me, so that no sorcerer's arrows penetrate nor an archer's shooting instruments. If that is not enough, let the might of Ukko from the sky, the might of the Earth-mother from the earth, and old Väinämöinen's strength come forth to help and favour me, to strengthen me and give me might, lest Piru's arrows penetrate, or the arrows of a sorcerer.
c
Wizards there are in every dell, and sorcerers at every gate, diviners are at every fence, soothsayers are on every path. But I am not at all alarmed, I am not in the least afraid. I clip the wool from off a stone, fluff from a stone that has lain a winter there, I break the hair from off a rock, and from the gravel pluck coarse hair. A shirt of defence I make of that, ’neath which I sojourn every night and occupy myself by day, lest the sorcerer eat too much, lest the witch should wound o’ermuch. If that is not
enough, ten adders shall I yoke, set saddles on a hundred snakes, here at my side to glide along; from his chains I'll slip a bear, from his headstall loose a wolf, to rush in front of me, to course in rear of me, to gobble up the village spells, to overwhelm the envious, the sorcerers in every dell, the witches in every lake, the soothsayers on every path, the envious in every place.
d
A maiden darted from a cloud, a holy handmaid—from the sky, and sat down suddenly to weep upon a honeyed, grassy knoll. There she sat down and also wept. Three rivers flowed from a single maiden's tears; one was of water, one of mead, and fiery rapids formed the third. In the rapids was a fiery reef, on the reef was a fiery birch, a fiery eagle was on the birch, its beak was like a sorcerer's nose, its talons like five reaping-hooks, (fitted) to draw a wizard's arrow out, to overcome the powerful ones, to snatch away the soothsayers, to keep watch over jealous folk, so that no sorcerer's arrows hurt, no sorcerer's darts, no witch's knife, no pointed iron of soothsayers. May all the sorcerers in dells through their own arrows come to nought; those that use witchcraft—through their knives; diviners—through their tools of steel; all other strong men—through their strength.
e
If I exert myself, let nine exert themselves; if I spring up with two, let eight spring up in haste to side with me that am a lad, to encircle me that am alone. Let my great kinsfolk rise like a mountain's solid slope, my splendid
kindred like a long-drawn bank of cloud, 1 to stand near me, at my side to march against a mob of enemies, ’gainst places that are perilous.
f
What did I hear? what did they say when I was staying in this land, when I was living in the world, a very long time ago? Thus did I hear, and thus they spoke: My darling God, my powerful haltia, ever assisted me when among those sorcerers, in the neighbourhood of soothsayers, he helped me with his gracious hand, with his mighty strength; for a whole day he carried me, at eve he let me go to rest.
§ 3. AGAINST ENVY.
a
Envy I cannot guard against, nor from opponents shield myself, when dealing with these toilsome tasks, these difficult affairs. May the Envy-matron keep good watch, may Väinämöinen me defend. Whoever looks with jealousy, looks pryingly with eyes askew, resentful glances casts, or some malevolence prepares, may his eyes shed blood, let trickle rheum into the fire of hell, the evil power's flames; into his eyes may the lashes grow, thick as a hatchet-haft, a bowstring long; may these pour blood along, and across his cheeks. Whoever without envy looks may Jesus bless him so that he shall honeyed eyes possess, shall wend his way with honeyed mind.
b
Whoever looks with envious glance, keeps turning round with jealous eye, causes bewitchment with his mouth, or imprecates with 'words,' may the slag of Hiisi fill his eyes, the soot of Hiisi soil his face, may a fiery bung plug up his mouth, may Lempo's lock clinch fast his jaws, may his mouth get overgrown with moss, the root of his tongue be broken off, may one of his eyes like honey run, like butter may the other flow into the raging fire, into Hiisi's bin of coals, may his head dry into stone and skin grow on the top,
c
Whoever happens to o’erlook, or from one side intently stares, may he look with honeyed eyes, may he peer with a honeyed glance. But if envious persons look, if cockeyed people pry, may a twig tear out their eyes, may a branch pluck out their eyes; may a withered fir-tree grow, an iron-branched tree throw out thick shoots, an iron-branched tree with jagged top, before that envious person's house, on which he shall fix his eyes, on which he shall his glances cast, so that unless set free he won't get free, unless set loose he won't get loose, during the span of earthly time, while the moon sheds its golden light.
d
If envious persons look, if the cock-eyed open wide their eyes, from windows shall grimaces make, shall over farmyards peep about, keep listening at the cattle-sheds or meditate near the homestead fence; may the bloody cloak of Hiitola [v. Panula], may Hiisi's [v. Tapiola's] gory rug, that needs five men to lift, be bound across the eyes, be fastened round the ears, and the hat of Hiisi round the
napes of those that sit at windows, that stand at the end of a bridge, that spy at the end of a cattle-shed, that lie in ambush not far off, so that with eyes they can't be seen, so that with ears they can't be heard.
§ 4. VENGEANCE.
a
Whoever incites to anything, or makes his precious [F. golden] tongue to wag, may he receive his words again, may his thoughts of malice roll till they reach his house, or at his cottage land; may they eat into his heart, of his liver may they taste, entwine themselves about his lungs, keep dancing in his lap; upon his body may they seize, down to the quick may they penetrate. Whoever shall repeat my words, may they from his head pass out, from his brains may they slip down, like needles with points of steel, sail-needles with spiky points, may the root of his tongue be twisted round, may the hair of his head be rubbed away. Whoever shall with curses curse, pronounces maledictive words, down his throat may a fiery plug, down his gorge may a copper wedge, may the gag of Hiisi ’tween his teeth, may Lempo's lock upon his jaws be forced, may his tongue turn into stone, may his mouth be overgrown with moss.
b
Whoever has pronounced a curse, with his tongue whined out a curse, with his lips has mumbled out a curse, with his teeth has bitten off a curse, may the stones pronounce a curse on him. He that has melted any one, may the boulder stones melt him; he that has roasted any
one, him may the flat stones roast; he that caused injury by spells, may an atrophy injure him; whoever may have borne a grudge, may the grave bear him a grudge; whoever has bewitchment used, on him may death bewitchment use, may his tongue rot off, his mouth get overgrown with moss.
§ 5. TO DISCOVER THE CAUSE.
a
Of thy old mother I'll inquire; I'll make thy mother call to mind why thou, Disease, hast made attack, why thou, Elfshot, hast found thy way into a wretched human skin, the body of a mother's son. I know not who thy maker is, I cannot tell who sent thee forth. Art thou a sickness by the Creator made, a bane decreed by God, or art thou caused by human art, both wrought and brought by another man, sent hither for reward, procured with harmful pelf to do the stipulated deeds, to execute work paid in coin, to destroy a person that was born, to ruin one that has been made? If thou be a sickness by the Creator made, a bane decreed by God, on my Creator I fling myself, I cast myself upon my God; the Lord abandons not the good, the Maker killeth not the virtuous. If thou art caused by human art, a disease produced by another man, I'll get to know thine origin, surely thy birthplace ascertain. Thence have attacks of sickness come ere now, thence elfshots have been shot, from the regions of divining men, from the grazing grounds of singing men, from the homesteads of vile miscreants, from the trampled fields of sorcerers, from the humid dells of wizards, from the hilltops of ecstatic men, from spells pronounced by harridans,
from the witchery of long-haired hags, from the distant limits of the north, from the wide country of the Lapp, from spots where reindeer throw their young, from sandy heaths where stags career, from the house of the spectral host (kalmalaiset), from Manala's eternal huts, from mouldering heaps of soil, from earth that often must be moved, from the rolling gravel, from the rustling sand. 1
b
I do not know at all just now, the reason I cannot surmise, why, Hiisi, thou hast entrance made, hast, devil (Perkele), made, thyself at home in a guiltless heart, in a belly free of blame. From waters of witches hast thou come, from the lilies on a landlocked lake, from Nixies’ (lummekoira) haunts, from a water-Hiisi's hole, from the sea's black mud, a thousand fathoms deep, or from the heath of death (kalma), from the interior of the earth, from a dead man's belly, from the skin of one departed for eternity, from the armpit of a spectral form (kalmalainen), from beneath the liver of a shade (manalainen), hast thou been torn from a cross's base, been conjured up from women's graves, beside a decorated church, from the edge of a holy field, or from great battle-fields, from the slaughter-fields of men?
c
From where, wretch, hast thou sent thyself, whence, Lempo, hast thou cut away, whence, filthy one, torn thyself away, why, Hiisi's refuse, hast thou shamed thyself? Who created thee, who formed thee, wretch, to eat, to gnaw, to
bite, to crunch? Out of the water hast thou rolled, from the froth of water poured thyself, from rushing streams, from roaring falls, from a rapid's seething foam, from burning swirls, from the great ridges of the sea, from billows capped with foam, or from still waters, running streams, from unfrozen pools, from rippling springs? Or hast thou issued from the earth, ascended from a field, thou wraith (peiko), from clearings bare, from land unploughed, from humid dells, from mossless swamps, from near mud-castle, from a watery ridge, 1 from a forest-Hiisi's hole, from the cleft of five great hills, from a copper mountain top, from the peak of a copper Fell, from Bruin's stony grot, from a bear's den of boulder-stones, from the tracks of a running wolf, from the steps of one with a down-turned snout, from places where the foxes bark, from pairing-places of the hare, hast thou been poured from froth of calves, been gathered from the foam of dogs? Or from fireplaces hast thou come, been raked up from the burning brands, hast thou arrived from heated stones, from amid the smoke of a bathing-house? Or by the wind hast thou been rocked, by a wintry blast hast thou been swung in the level sky, behind light clouds, by the wind's path hast thou come here, along the course of a wintry blast, from places shaken by the wind, from where the wintry tempest drives?
§ 6. REPARATION FOR HARM.
a
Approach to discern thy work, to heal the evil thou hast wrought, to anoint the wounds, to souse the sores, before I tell thy mother, and to thy parent say aside: 'Thy son
has done an evil act, thy child—a deed of infamy.' More is a mother's grief, great is a parent's suffering, in healing sicknesses, in dealing with grievous injuries, when her son is doing wrong, her child does damage recklessly.
b
Come hither, hurry up, at thy deeds to feel ashamed, to smell the wounds thyself hast caused, to lick the sores thyself hast made, with thy honeyed lips, with thy honeyed tongue. Into thy mouth put thou the sores, under thy teeth the nasty smell, into thy jaws the suffering, into thy belly smarting wounds, seeing thou wroughtest this infamy, seeing thou causedst the evil deed, evil for thee, evil for me, evil indeed for both of us. If thou hast acted wrongfully, better thou dost to make amends; it will be nicer for thyself, more advantageous for thy life.
§ 7. AGAINST INFLAMMATION AND ANGRY SYMPTOMS.
a
May the raging of angry wounds depart, may a pure blessing come instead, when I have spoken with my mouth, when I have breathèd with my breath. May the inflammation roll into a lake, sores sink into the earth, as a stone sinks in the waves, as iron—in the sea.
b
So may thine angriness dissolve, as salt has melted in the sea, so may thy malignity subside, as in the water sand has sunk; may thy vexations melt away, as wax has melted in the fire, may thy bitterness evaporate, like the
dew upon a sandy heath, from a poor human being's skin, from the body of a mother's son. 1
Fluid is tar when being made, and fat when being melted down, may thine angriness more liquid be, more meltable than that. May thine angriness as fluid be, as butter when it melts, as milk in summer when it's milked, as an ice-hole in the winter-time.
c
Eat up thine angriness thyself, put in thy mouth thy malignity, thy spell-wrought horrors—down thy throat, the pains thou occasioned—down thy gorge; like brandy drink thine angriness, like ale the anguish thou hast caused, like 'sour water' thy bitterness, like milk thy spell-sent malady, like honey thine acerbity, like buttered eggs thy fever-fits, 2 down through thy bony jaw, through thine aching teeth, through the dry channel of thy throat, through thy tongue's root, into thy golden belly, thy copper paunch, into thy dainty liver and thy yellow lungs,—let them be coiled about thy heart, and into thy gall let them be brought.
§ 8. EXPULSION.
a
How, formerly, was needless harm removed, how were malicious deeds made good? By those ere now was needless harm removed, by those were malicious deeds
made good, by those words that are handed down, by pronouncing the deep origin. By them remove, thou needless harm, by them take flight, thou evil one; remove when driven to remove, decamp when driven to decamp, The needless harm must now remove, the evil power must flee away; now is the time for thee to move, the starting time for thee to start from this poor human being's skin, from the body of a mother's son.
b
On snow-skates, Hiisi, now depart, thou evil man, begin to flee, tall fiend, begin to scud away, Satan, begin to hurry off before the rising of the sun, the dawning of the god of dawn, the uprising of the sun, the crowing of the cock. Now it is Hiisi's time to skate, the time for Satan to hurry off, the time for the evil power to jog, a very timely hour of flight. A road is made for thee to use, more than enough to glide upon, moonlight thou hast to travel by, there is light for thee to wander by, on a horse along the road, on snow-skates o’er the hill, or across the water in a boat to the distant limits of the north, that there thou mayst remain so long as there is neither sun nor moon.
c
Why formerly in days of yore the solid gates of a castle moved, its iron hinges shook again, the turrets of the castle reeled, the castle's bulwarks flashed with fire, the castles moved, the lakes were stirred, the copper hills quaked suddenly; the atmosphere from its socket moved, with a crash the earth shook out of joint, great clouds were broken through and through, the sky was riven into holes, all the atmosphere into apertures (F. windows), at
the coming of the hour of God, when the help of the Lord approached; So, why dost thou not likewise move, not move, thou uninvited shape, why, evil one, not flee away, why not withdraw, thou good-for-nought, at the expiry of this hour, the termination of this term? Now is the precious time of grace, the solemn festival of God, the priests are going to the mass, proceeding to the preaching-house.
d
Thou hound of Hiisi, disappear, be ashamed, thou shameless dog, from my belly sally forth, thou brute, from my liver, monster of the earth, bugbear (riena) of Hiisi, cease to rage, cease to abuse a living man. Wilt thou not quit when thou art loosed, not quit with him that lets thee loose, when he causes the deliverance, when he effects the grievous task, when he ejects the injury, when he ousts the troubles caused by spells?
The Sun's son formerly escaped, when Päivätär let him escape; from a cell (F. ring) the moon formerly escaped, from the inside of an iron 'barn.' Kave released from the cell the moon, released the sun from the rock, by which it had by Kuume been circled round, had by a devil (Pirulainen) been concealed in a stony rock, in an iron 'barn.'
§ 9. POSTING.
a
If thou shouldst ask to travel post, shouldst for a driving horse beseech, I'll give thee, troth, a posting horse, I shall procure a dark grey horse, that thou mayst travel home, to thy country mayst return. I'll make for it hoofs of stone,
[paragraph continues] I'll have cast for it copper legs, I'll bit it with a sinew bit, and if the sinew will not hold, I shall prepare an iron bit. If that should insufficient prove, I'll give a stronger posting horse, a better runner I will add. From Hiisi take a horse, from the mountain choose a foal. A good horse lives in Hiisi's place, a black-maned horse among the Fells, for one that can hold the reins aright, for one that driveth skilfully in iron harness, in copper driving gear. Its head is made of stone, in copper is its body cast, its back is made of steel, of iron are its legs built up, its muzzle scatters fire, its legs spirt sparks. Its hoofs slip not upon the ice, its legs crack not against a rock, e’en on the air's slippery path, even of Kalma's icy track.
b
If thou the mountain cannot climb, cannot ascend the Hill of Pain, good horses live at Hiisi's place, on the mountains there are first-rate foals. From Hiisi take a horse, from the hard land a trotting horse, the chestnut nag of Hiisi with forelock of fire, with iron mane, which from the housetop must be bridled, which must from the fence be saddled; 1 the mountains it can well ascend, it can gallop over every rock; its feet don't slip, its hoofs don't knock when it hurries over stones, when it rattles o’er the beach; on its croup is a lake, clear water on its back-bone lies, water of which the sorcerers drink, fire-throated ones, who drinking make it hiss. Harness the fiery foal upon the fiery plain, drive furiously over rocks, make the dens of Hiisi to resound, like a spark flash past, like a fleet hound rush, for Hiisi's gelding does not sweat, nor the beauty of Manala turn a hair.
§ 10. PAIN OR SICKNESS.
a
Thither I send the pains away, thither I shove the grievous aches, into the middle of the open sea. The vehement maid of Kipula is sitting in a lazy way on the lower end of a speckled stone, on the edge of a bulky flag, spinning pains on a copper spinning-staff, into a ball she winds the pains, into a bundle gathers them, into the water she flings the ball, to the depths of the sea she hurls it down, whence it may never more be fetched during the span of worldly time, while the moon sheds its golden light.
b
Three maidens, Luonnotars, are sitting as they sob and weep where three roads part, four rivers flow; they gather pains, torments they cram into a speckled chest, a copper box; they bark their hands, they tear their breasts, their annoyance they bewail, if pains perchance should not be brought. For only then would it be nice, if I brought pains and sicknesses in the evening, morning and again at noon. Cease weeping, surely I'll give you pains, I bring this moment a walletful, a lapful I present, that came from a wretched human skin, from the body of a wretched beast, that bears upon it a hundred hairs, that sheds a thousand hairs.
c
A kettle is owned by Kivutar, the daughter of Väinö has a pot in which she boils up pains in the middle of the Hill of Pain (Kipu-mäki), on the summit of Mount Suffering (Kipu-vaara). At the hill's centre stands a thorp, in
the middle of the thorp a field, in the middle of the field a spring, in the middle of the spring a stone with nine holes in it, bored with a borer, with an auger drilled. The centre hole is nine fathoms deep and into it the pains are flung, the dreadful sufferings are thrust, the dangerous wounds are cast by force, the calamities are pressed, so that by night they cannot act, so that by day they can't escape.
d
The old wife of sickness, Kivutar, was carrying a fiery bugle-horn in the middle of the Hill of Pain, on the summit of Mount Suffering; one spark dropt off, the red fire fell on the summit of Mount Suffering and became inflammatory burns, turned into sickness for men.
The girl of Tuoni, Maid of Pain, herself in pain was weeping tears, was lamenting in her suffering, as she bustled about with her knees in hot ashes, her arms in the fire, collecting the pains with stone gloves on her hands. She boils the pains and sickness in a wee kettle, an iron baking pan, at the end of an iron bench, that no one should receive a pang, that no one should receive a hurt.
§ 11. REPROACHING.
Who bade thee do the deed, incited thee to a sneaking act, to raise thy nose, to turn thy snout, to do these deeds, to execute these deeds of death?
Did thy father order thee, thy father or thy mother or the eldest of thy brothers or the youngest of thy sisters or some great one of thy family, a brilliant member of thy race, when thou didst commit the spiteful deed, didst perpetrate the needless act?
Thy father did not order thee, thy father nor thy mother nor the eldest of thy brothers nor the youngest of thy sisters nor some great one of thy family, a brilliant member of thy race. Thyself hast done the spiteful deed, hast perpetrated the ghastly act, abundance of evil thou hast wrought, entirely on thine own account, contrary to the will of God, to the dignity of the Blessed One.
§ 12. FALLING INTO ECSTASY.
a
My Nature I shall try to raise, 1 I shall summon my genius (haltia): my Nature, from thy hole arise, my Haltia, from under a fallen tree, my Helper, from beneath a stone, my Guide, from out the moss; come, dread-inspiring Death (Kalma), come at a time of anguish dire, to give support, to safeguard me, to help me and to strengthen me for the work that must be done, the hurt that must be known about. 2
b
Arise, my Nature, reliantly, awake, O Genius (haltia) of my life, from under a tree, O Brilliant Eyes, from under a flag, O Spotted Cheeks, my Nature that is hard as stone, my hair that is tough as iron; O Nature of the old man and wife, my mother's Nature and my sire's, the Nature of my ancestor in addition to my Nature rise; may I be clothed with a burning coat, with furs of fiery red, that Hiisi's folk may be confused, earth's awful beings may be abashed while this sorcerer uses magic arts, while a Laplander is uttering words.
c
My Flesh, bestir thyself in me, in a fellow's neck, O Strong desire; arise, my Nature, reliantly, my Genius, with austerity to seize with me, cause fright with me, to conquer enemies, to crush the warring hosts; rise, cease from slumbering, from reposing in a leafy copse. Thou hast lain in the ground for long, a long while in a gloomy place, so thou art no better than a corpse, no handsomer than a defunct; arise, as thou hast risen afore, when I try to raise thee up. Hills flowed like butter then, rocks like the flesh of swine, blue forest-wilds like mead, the land-locked lakes like ale, low land rose up, high land sank down at the coming of the hour of God, when the help of the Lord approached, when I, the child, was conjuring, when trying to inspire myself.
§ 13. IN DISTRESS.
How do they sing and how lament when a time of danger is at hand, when a day of jeopardy impends? Thus may they speak, thus ask in truth: may the hour of God arrive, may help from the Lord approach the while this elfshot is giving thrusts, this loathsome thing is torturing, when a man is shouting in distress, when a man in pain is yelling out. Thou 'hound of the Hiisis,' avaunt! avaunt! thou 'cur of Manala' leave off from striking one that has been born, from destroying one that has been made. If thou, O Hiisi, art from hell, or a devil (piru) from Pimentola, if thou of devils (perkele) the smallest art, of Satans the most glorious, then, Hiisi, go to hell, thou devil, to Pimentola, they need thee there, thy coming they expect, thy father is weeping there, thy parent is bewailing thee on bloody beds, on bolsters red.
§ 14. BOASTING.
a
No sorcerer bewitches me, no Lapp can place me under spells; for my bewitcher I bewitch, my would-be conqueror I subdue, I gouge the eye of a jealous man, I tweak the nose of a sorcerer, let him be any man alive, a black-complexioned countryman, or any woman now alive, a reddish brown-complexioned witch, or a woman of complexion fair, of any complexion—’tis the same. When I begin to sing, begin to speak, I split his shoulders by my song, bisect his jawbone by my lay, I rend the collar of his shirt, from the breast-bone I tear it off; then on his head by song I bring a cap, and underneath the cap a sheaf of Viborg worms, of hairworms quite a heap. Him that would eat me up I feed with these, and make them bite whoever would bite me. I feed the best divining-men, the sorcerers, the jealous ones, on toads with all their feet, on lizards with their wings, on snakes, black snakes with their venom, paws and all.
b
Hither I have not come indeed without my skill, without my art, without my father's force of mind, without my father's armaments, to a place where men are eaten up, to a place where full-grown men are drowned. Let them eat a sheep raw, an uncooked one tear, but not a man like me, nor yet a worse man, or a clumsier. With a man's girdle I am girt, with a man's buckle I am clasped, am fastened with a hero's brooch. Sorcerers once were bewitching me, three Laplanders attempted it, three cruel sorcerers, nine extra wicked ones, three summer nights, nine autumn nights, completely bare, without a rag of clothes; this
much they profited by me, just this much they got out of me, what an axe gets from a stone, a borer from a rock, a stump from slippery ice, or Death (Tuoni) from an empty room.
c
Not me will the arrows pierce, not on me the sharp iron take effect. The wizard's arrows will not pierce, nor the diviner's steel; I should make blunt the points, into a hook I'd twist the heads. I have a sandy skin, a hide of iron-slag, a body made of steel, ta’en from the branches of a fir. If I desire to match myself, with the men to compare myself, I sing the sorcerers with their darts, the archers with their instruments, the witches with their iron knives, the diviners with their steel into the mighty Rutja [v. Turja] Falls, into the awful midstream broil, beneath the highest cataract, beneath the most tremendous swirl, amid the rapids' stones, amid the burning boulder stones, to blaze like fire, to sparkle like a spark. There may the sorcerers fall asleep, there may the jealous ones repose, until the grass shall grow through the head and the tall cap, through the shoulders of the sorcerer, right through the muscles of the neck of each sleeping sorcerer, each slumbering jealous one.
d
Perchance I am not after all a person to be termed a man, born of a powerful mother, or by a steady-going woman rocked, if I be eaten without a cause, though innocent be torn to bits. I am a sorcerer's youngest son, the 'calf' of an old divining-man; I to a smith's went formerly, went formerly, went yesterday, again this very day, where things of steel were being made, where things
of iron were being wrought; I ordered shoes of steel, I had a coat of copper cast, which a sorcerer's arrows will not pierce, a sorcerer's arrows, witches’ knives, the sharp weapons of divining-men. May all spells that the sorcerers cast, all things that the seers see, that the roadside prowlers snatch, all charms the Laplanders repeat, return to their proper homes, arrive at their tents again; may they cast spells upon themselves, over their children sing their charms, may they destroy their families, may they dishonour kith and kin, may the sorcerer wither up, may the roadside prowler be transformed, may the magic-drummer (Käsikannus) fall, may the Laplander be killed by the sharp tools himself has made, by the spell-sent harm himself has caused, let the sorcerer perish by his darts, the wizard by his steel, the witch by her iron knives, by his songs the Laplander.
e
Not me do the sorcerers bewitch, the wizards lay no hands on me, that I should die upon the road, on the journey should fall faint, though young should fall asleep, though ruddy should expire. My mother washed me naked on a nether stone, three times upon a summer night, to become a wizard on every road, a skilful man in every land, to be a singer when at home, a good performer when abroad. Troth, formerly in days gone by, the sorcerers were bewitching me, the sorcerers bewitched, the 'vipers' cursed, had a mind to lay me down, were threatening to sink me down, to serve as a plank on the swampy spots, to serve as a bridge on the miry bits, but being a capable man indeed I was not much concerned thereby; I set myself to cast a spell, myself began to utter words, by
song I turned the best of singers into quite the worst, brought a pigskin o’er their eyes, a dogskin o’er their ears, brought stony shoes upon their feet, and stony gloves upon their hands, a lump of stone upon their necks, and a stony tall cap on their heads.
f
I am the son of a Northerner, that by a Turja girl was rocked, by a Laplander was swung in a cradle made of iron; the old man (Ukko) rumbled in the sky, the old man rumbled, the earth did quake, like water the Creator's clouds got wet, the heaven crackled like a fire at the creation of this boy, when he was brought upon the world. I should term that man a man, consider him a full-grown man, who could draw my bow, could tighten my crooked bow. ’Twas only yesterday I drove the shaft of my spear a fathom deep into a clay-bottomed field, into the unyielding earth; I milked fierce adders with my 'nails,' with my hands I handled snakes, I armed a thousand men with swords on a single summer's night; bruin I visited at home, at his own house a brindled bear, I bitted wolves, I shackled bears to a she-Lempo's tether-post, on Hiisi's gallows I hung them up.
g
On me another man can't put his shoes, nor his laces tie. I put my own shoes firmly on, I draw the laces tight, I stick an arrow in the floor, an oaken shaft into trampled ground, lest a sorcerer eat too much, lest witches wound excessively. If that be not enough, a chestnut stallion I possess, a splendid-looking horse upon whose croup is a lake, on whose backbone clear water lies, a fountain where
the collar sits, the water of which the witches drink, the jealous folk of the village swill, fire-throated ones who drinking make it hiss. But the wizard did not know the least I had already drunk therefrom, before the sorcerer had risen, the jealous person had awoke. Of gravel I made my mitts, my gloves of stone with which I handled adders and with my fingers gathered snakes; I took ten adders, a hundred snakes to go with me, to speed with me, to course in front of me, to wander at my side, to eat the spells of villagers, their incantations to devour.
h
Already in days gone by three attacks of sickness came, to the danger of my wretched self; one came along the swamp, the second came by other ground, by water came the third. The one that came along the swamp had a pole-like neck; the one that came along the ground had a crooked arch-like neck; the one that came by water was the hardest of the three attacks. But, being a capable man indeed, I was not much alarmed thereby; from an eagle I took the claws, the talons from a hawk, from a bear the paws, from bruin the crooked hands, with which I clawed the miscreant, for all time checked the hideous thing, elfshots I squeezed with them and smashed the arrows of disease.
i
No man is eaten without a cause, no man is slain without disease, without the great Creator's leave, without the death-decree of God. If I am not the proper man, can't recognise this cruel pain, from spell-sent troubles can't give release, my comrade is the proper man. He dwells
with Hiisi's folk, on the mountain roams around. If I should take him as a help, to strengthen me, to give me might, then no oaken club will break a bone in my knee nor will a copper hook from my neck draw blood, nor the most violent gust of wind raise from my ears a single hair.
§ 15. TO STILL VIOLENCE.
a
Thou 'hound of Hiisi' disappear, cease, 'dog of Manala,' get wearied, 'shameless cur,' unchristened and unbaptized, of deranging a christian man, of rubbing one that is devout, of eating the core of the heart, of twisting up the lungs, of stamping on the wame, of cutting gashes in the paunch, of gnawing at the navel cord, of laying hands upon the loins, of boring at the sides, of gliding along the vertebræ, of crunching joints, of fracturing the ends of bones, of rending the bones of the thigh, of smashing the bones of the shins, of dislocating arms, of causing rattling in the chest, of nibbling the skull, of scraping the scalp.
If I am not the proper man, I that am rather strong can't help, then I shall send a better man to remove this malady, to effect this grievous task, to destroy the monstrous thing. A man from the sea displays himself, he shakes his furs, flips his coat of skin; his hose are a fathom at the knee, two fathoms wide below the knee; here now let him show himself to remove this malady, to bring about deliverance. But if it pays no heed to him, nor speedily removes itself, there is the Ogress (Syöjätär) in the sea with a mouth in the middle of her head, a tongue in the middle of her throat, who has eaten a hundred men, destroyed a thousand
full-grown men; may she now also eat thee up, as the bread she eats, as the feast she holds.
If little good results from that, if still it pays no heed at all, I'll raise the earth-matrons from the earth, the first house-fathers from the field, all the swordsmen from the ground, the mounted-heroes from the sand; I'll raise the forests with their men, with their folk the clumps of juniper, fir-thickets with their families, with their bairns the landlocked lakes, a hundred persons armed with swords, a thousand heroes with swords of iron, to strengthen me, to give me might, to be my refuge, my support, in this my terrible distress, this specially laborious task.
May the aerial god himself, old Väinämöinen and the smith Ilmarinen themselves make their appearance here, to recognise these fearful pains, to give release from spell-sent harm, to grind this Hiisi, and this Juutas crush.
b
With what shall I the elfshots squeeze, check the sickness caused by fairy darts (amputauti), with what extract the sorcerer's bolts, with what the bloody needles draw from a wretched human being's skin, from the body of a mother's son? Quite lately, only yesterday I was in company with smiths, on the trampled floor of hammerers; I got made for me little tongs, a pair of splendid nipping-irons with which I'll lift the sorcerer's bolts, I'll draw the spears of Keito out.
A bear has brawny paws, I've paws thrice brawnier, five, six times more effectual with which I'll seize the malady.
But, if it pay no heed to that, I'll take the hands of one deceased, the fists of one that has disappeared, that in the
earth has lain for long. More dreadful are a dead man's hands, those of a corpse more horrible, with them shall I the elfshots squeeze, tightly compress the fairy darts, shall jerk the bloody needles out, shall drive the pointed things away, shall snatch the 'bristles of the pig' from a naked skin without a stitch of clothes; with them I shall the nightmare put below the earth, below the ground, below a plough's black soil, below five coulters and below a mountain's copper edge.
§ 16. MENACING.
a
If thou remove not speedily, motherless dog, dost not depart, thy old mother I'll interrogate, thy mother I'll inform; a mother first of all is milked, the boy is afterwards let drink of his mother's milk, his parent's own white milk.
If thou shouldst pay no heed thereto with willows I'll belabour thee, I'll fustigate with rowan shoots, I'll flog thee well with tips of fir.
If that be not enough, if thou remove not speedily I'll raise a ram with twisted horns, procure an ox with outspread horns, I'll order it to butt at thee, I'll make it strike thee with its horns. If little should result therefrom, I'll take the hands of one deceased, from under the ground a dead man's fists, from a burial-place I'll rout up hands; with them I'll claw the 'toads,' the Satans I shall hurt with them.
If that be not enough, from an eagle I shall take the claws, the talons from a hawk. There is an eagle, a famous bird, plashing on the water of the sea, dwelling on
the billows of the sea, one of its wings the water skimmed, the other nearly touched the sky; with its hard claws I'll chase the sudden maladies away, I'll crush to bits the 'murderers,' the evil-doers I shall squeeze.
If it should pay no heed thereto, have no intention to remove, from a bear I'll take the claws, from a blood-drinker hook-like claws; an eagle has cruel claws, a squirrel (F. firbranch bird) rake-like nails, the paws of bruin are crueller, the claws of a bear more terrible; with them I'll claw the miscreant, for ever check the hideous wretch.
Now, if it pay no heed thereto, I still remember other means, I know more words of magic power and mightier antagonists. In a den I've a hairy-nosed black dog, it was formerly my father's dog, precisely was my parent's hound. Its mouth is burning with fire, its throat is glowing with flame, its teeth resemble cinder-rakes with a tongue shoved in between, of iron is its heart composed, of copper the entrails in its paunch. It has eaten already a hundred men, destroyed a thousand full-grown men; by it I'll have thee eaten up, have thy father and mother eaten up, I'll make it eat thine ancestor and thy other mighty relative; it will bite thee bones and all, it will crunch thee bones and all, till thou canst not shake thy head, till thou canst not draw thy breath.
b
Hast thou regarded me as dead, missed me as if I'd disappeared? I have not died at any rate, I have not wholly disappeared. Quite lately, only yesterday, I was at bruin's home, at the house of an iron[-coloured] bear; I bitted by my song the wolf, the bear I fettered with iron chains. I walked upon a viperous field, I ploughed the
viper-swarming soil, turned up the snaky earth with a keen-edged plough, with a copper share. I held the vipers in my nails, in my hands the snakes; ten of the vipers I put to death, a hundred of the swarthy snakes; with vipers’ blood my nails are still besmeared, my hands with the fat of snakes. I take my viperous gloves, my snaky mitts, with which I drive the 'monster' off, I crush to atoms the 'murderer,' I make the 'flesh-devourer' budge, I make the 'bone-biter' slip away, make the fiery 'dog' cease eating up, the evil 'cur' from mangling cease, cease injuring a christian man, destroying one that is baptized. If thou shouldst injure a christian man or destroy a man that is baptized, christening perchance will injure thee, baptism will haply thee destroy.
§ 17. EXORCISMS.
a
The evil beings I send away, the kobolds [kehno] I incite away, destructive beings I force away, malicious beings I drag away, to sproutless clearings run to waste, to lands unploughed, to swampy dells, to untraversed swamps in which frogs spawn, where muck-worms crawl, to a nameless meadow, unknown by name, where from the earth no herbage sprouts, from the sward no grass exalts itself. If there thou findest not a place, thee I conjure away to the head of the waters of Sumukse, to dark Sariola, to the mist of the sea, to the haze of the lower air, to the feather-tip of a swan, right under the tongue of a pintail duck.
If that be not enough, thee I conjure away down the mouth of Antero Vipunen, down the belly of him that is rich in means, who in the earth has slept for long, long lain
like a tree that is waterlogged. Now, go where I command, into the sleigh of a brindled cat, into the cart of a dusky cock, that the brindled cat may carry thee, that the dusky cock may hurry thee to the solid shutters of a gaol, to its creaking gate.
If that be not enough, thee I conjure away to the fleay cavern of a fox. Get into the fox's sleigh, on the gliding runners of the sledge, the fox has a low-built sleigh, easily the runners glide, the fox will draw thee to the beach and into the water roll thee down. Now, go where I command, where I command and order thee, to the end of a rolling log, to the top of a stump of juniper, into the mouth of a shrieking crow, into a croaking raven's throat, into an ermine's stony hole, to a summer-ermine's paws, into an iron-horned ram's head, into an iron stallion's mouth, into an elk's coarse-fibred flesh, the shoulder-blade of Hiisi's elk, under a summer-reindeer's tongue, into the groin of a tame reindeer, into the mouth of a running wolf, under the tail of a dusky dog, into a bear's hard bones, a black bear's hip, into casks of unripe cloudberries, inside an iron 'egg.'
b
If from Kalma's chambers' thou art come, from the 'huts of the spectral host' (manalaiset), from raspberry-covered heaps of stones, from the border of a 'holy field,' just make endeavours to go home to 'Kalma's heath,' to the mouldering heaps of soil, to earth that often must be moved, into which a people has fallen prone, a mighty crowd has quietly sunk, where families are enclosed, a deadman's heirs are hidden away. It is good for thee to live, pleasant for thee to pass the time in a 'house of fir,' in a 'pinewood
nest'; like a golden cuckoo thou wilt sing, like a silver turtle-dove, in thy lofty home, in thy lovely house.
c
If thou hast bolted from a corpse [Kalma], into a corpse just disappear, go, Kalma, to a burial-ground, to the edge of a holy field, to the home of a man deceased, to the house of a vanished one, to the bed of one that has collapsed, under the rug of one that swooned. There it is pleasant for thee to be, delightful ’tis for thee to live; there thou hast bread of sifted flour, fat delicacies ready made, elbows enough are there and much fat flesh for a hungry man to eat, for one that longs for it to bite. A dead man will not greatly weep, one gone for ever will not cry, if in thy lust thou make a gash, take a bite in thy strong desire.
d
I order smarting pains away, I cause the sufferings to sink at the brink of fiery rapids, in the whirlpool of a holy stream, which by the root drags trees along, causes great-headed firs to fall, destroys the heather in its bloom, sweeps grass and all its husks away. In the rapids is a fiery reef, on the reef is a fiery bull, whose mouth is burning with fire, whose throat is aglow with flame; to Mana it will bear the pains, the sufferings to Tuonela, whence all their life they won't escape, will nevermore be fetched away.
e
Where I command, there get thee gone, into the hateful Ihari [v. Ilari, Inari], into the boisterous Kalari, into the violent Rutja [v. Turja] rapids, into the gurgling, foaming
surge, into the roaring rapids, into the rapid water's swirl, into the burning whirl, which the trees fall into with their heads, oaks topple into, crown and all, upsetting firs by their root-end, broad-headed pines with spreading crown, in which the stumps of birch are smashed, the roots of aspens are snaps in two, the grass with its roots rushes noisily, and heather tumbles with its bloom.
f
Where I command, there get thee gone, to the fiery rapids’ centre point, into the violent Vuoksi falls, into the space between two rocks, into the awful midstream broil, whence all thy life thou won't escape, thou wilt never get away, unless by the Creator freed, without the Almighty's providence. If thou raise thy head from there or exalt thy snout, may Ukko pain thy head with sharply pointed needles, with packing-needles, or with iron hail.
g
Now move thy quarters, 'toad,' change, Murderer, thy dwelling-place, Monster, begin to move away, Plague of the land, to take to flight. Begone whence thou hast come, I cannot bear thee company. Be more impetuous than wind, more rapid than a waterfall. Not here is thy proper place, transfer thy tent to somewhere else.
If thou a master shouldst possess, away to thy master's seat; if thou a mistress shouldst possess, away to thy mistress's feet; to the mouth of thy brother's door, to the end of thy sister's floor, ere the close of day, ere the setting of the sun. Then on thy arrival there, when thou hast reached thy home, the abode of him that fashioned thee, thine originator's place, on thy arrival give a sign, a secret
signal on reaching home, cause a crash like a thunder-clap, cause a glare like a lightning-flash. Kick open the courtyard door, fly down like a cock to the cattle-shed, like a chick to the dwelling-house, right down on the refuse heap. Kill the mare on the cattle-stand, crush the horse in the stall, the horned ox in the cattle-shed. Into the dung stick in its horns, on the floor let its tail fall down, its legs upon the earthen floor, on the threshold strew the hoofs, and scatter the hair upon the walls.
If little should result therefrom, draw the window-shutter back, through it transfer thyself within, into the room like a whirlwind fly, seize by the sinews of the heel, by the hindmost leg, by the narrowest heel, the masters in the farthest nook, in the door-corner the mistresses; of the master break the neck, twist this head awry, draw his eyes askew, of the mistress smash the head, and into a hook bend her fingers round.
k
Go to thy home, thou 'toad,' flee to thy country, Evil One, to the tongue of him that incited thee, to the palm of him that commanded thee. Dog, if thou reach thy home, thy loathsome father's house, commit a spiteful action there, perform one of corpselike hue; pass the threshold on thy hands, on thy knees through the door of the porch, to the shoulder of him that directed thee; enter within by his eye, by his guts, by the bladder, the muscles under the arm deep down to the flesh of the heart; into a bundle twist his heart, by the forelock lug him down, shake the framework of his breast, cause his head to rattle, his bones to creak, the back of his head to strike the ground till he cannot draw a breath,
If little ensue therefrom, blow up the glowing coals, heat furiously Lempo's forge in the hollow of the begetter's heart, claw thy mother's womb, twist thy parent's paunch, in her liver set thy tent, thy cellar in her lungs, give her veins a sudden squeeze, make her blood-pipes pipe a tune. If still that has but small effect, kill the boy that's in the porch, the eldest child that's on the floor, make it fall senseless as a stump, into a hook twist round its nose, in a twinkling break its beak.
i
Scoundrel of Hiisi! to thy home, to thy family return. Thy relatives are greatly vexed, thy family is alarmed that thou from thy country hast gone away, that thou from thy place hast fled. For thou hast tarried long, hast vegetated long at village thresholds, at alien gates, at screeching hinges, at creaking doors. Thy home is gloomy, thy dwelling desolate, thy mother seeks about the house, thy parent sore bewails, feels a sinking of the heart, moves here and there with downcast eyes, at the gate she constantly awaits the coming home of her 'Dog.' Thy mother says, thy parent shrieks:
'My luckless boy is journeying in a houseless tract; who now will snowshoe after elks, will halter reindeer, fetter bears, put heavy bits in mouths of wolves?'
In his house thy father weeps, thy grandmother gives vent to grief, thy brother's eyes with water pour, with gory water, with tears of blood. And there thy son is lying sick, thy sore tormented son shrieks out. For the soul's departure they prepare themselves with bloody beds, with gory rugs, in bloodstained clothes, in horrid gory coats, with bloody mouths, with bloody heads, with all their hair
embrued with blood, thy father at the maiden's spring, thy mother in Äijö's den, thy son at the fountain of Vuojela, thy daughter under the Tyrjä falls.
j
If thou art caused by human art, art an evil sent by any one, a disease produced by another man, an evil raised by a sorcerer, or by a scheming woman wrought, by a strong woman shaken out, return to the man that cast the spell, to the jaws of him that sang the charm, to the throat of him that pronounced the curse, to the heart of him that incited thee, to the breast of the witchcraft-using man, to the chest of him that conjured thee, before the rising of sun, the uprising of the 'morning star' (F. sun), the dawning of the god of dawn, ere the cock's crow is audible.
k
If, Disease, thou wert thrown by another man, by another thrown, by another brought, sent hither for reward, for the sake of money wert procured, thou now art ordered without reward, without any money to run away, without any gold to turn thy steps to thy mistress's morning meal, to the egg-scraps of thy grandmother. There, wicked pagan, eat under the bench, poke in thy head, from there don't raise it up before the flooring rots, the wall-beams get o’ergrown with mould, and the ceiling loosens overhead.
l
If from Metsola thou art, go seriously to Metsola, to the famous village of the woods, to sharp-sighted Tapiola, to places with knotty roots, to places of hard dry stumps, or between two stumps, beneath three birches’ roots, to the
home of an old he-bear, to the house of an old she-bear. In there is thy buttery bed, thy milky sleeping-place, thy bacony couch, thy pillows of linen stuff. If time permit thee not to sleep, thy mind won't carelessly repose, crawl on the ground like a snake of the earth, like an adder through withered grass, run through deep forests like a bear, like an otter hurry through a lake, like a squirrel through boughs of fir, like an ermine through holes in stones.
m
Thee I conjure away to murky Pohjola, to the doors of the gate of Pohjola, to the homes of the 'speckled lid,' where there is neither moon nor sun, nor ever any day. ’Tis well for thee to go there, over the trees or along the ground, to rustle in among the firs, to go tumbling in among the pines; huge is the gateway of the north, hingeless the Pass of the atmosphere, for a great devil (perkele), for a small, for a tall devil to scamper through.
’Twere well for thee to slip in there, there it is well for thee to live; a sea-beach thou hast to scamper on, gravel thou hast to rattle along, fine sand to shuffle through, a lovely heath to shamble through. Raw flesh is there, cooked flesh is there, lying in pairs at the kettle's spout, there is boneless flesh, there are headless fish for a hungry man to bite, for one with an appetite to bolt. An elk is hanging from a tree, a noble reindeer has been killed, a portly ox lies roasted there, a great animal lies slaughtered there for a voracious man to eat, for one a-hungered to devour.
n
Thither I send thee forth, thee I command and exorcise across nine woods, nine forests and a half, to the fires of
the sons of the North, to the flames of Lapland's bairns. Blazes are made upon the trees, upon the trees, across the ground, by which thou, stupid, canst tell the way, though a stranger, canst quickly find the track. The path is built of iron, is provided with posts of steel, so that a great or a little man or a middle-sized may also reach the hovels of the North, the ground near Lapland's Gulf. There it is well for thee to live, pleasant for thee to pass thy time; there a place is made for thee, a delicious bed to rest upon, something to eat is there set out, something to drink is quick prepared, stags of the forest have been killed, beasts of the field been put to death, there is boneless flesh to eat, the blood of game to drink. There thou canst eat without a care, canst munch according to desire, when thou art hungry gnaw the elk's coarse-fibred flesh, the fat reindeer's flanks, the fleshy armpit of a bear, or a bear's hard bones, in a pigstye sleeping all the night, in a sheep-pen all the day.
o
Thee I conjure away, I command and order off to great battlefields, to the slaughter-fields of men, where men are battling with the sword, in combat are fighting hand to hand. There it is well for thee to live, ’tis easy to visit thy relatives, to eat flesh raw, to drink blood warm; there blood is as high as the knee, filth on a level with the leg, there heads are (plentiful) as hills, hair (plentiful) as withered grass.
p
Whither I order, thither go, in front of some great cannon's mouth, down the throat of the 'copper bow,'
down the gorge of the 'iron churn,' among the war-horse's feet, ’mong the hoofs of a battle-foal, where there is blood for thee to drink, and flesh for thee to gobble up; by eating, the food will not fall short, by drinking, the drink will not grow less, there blood is as high as the shin, red blood is the height of the knee.
q
If thou art from the sky, from the limit of the rainless clouds, mount up to the sky again, ascend into the air, through by the moon, and below the sun, up to the level of the sky, to the dripping clouds, to the twinkling stars, like a fire to flame, to sparkle like a spark on the orbit of the sun, on the circuit of the lunar ring, on the seven stars’ back, in the sky behind.
r
Thee I conjure away into moaning hills, into sighing firs, to the top of a copper hill, to a copper mountain peak, where the clouds surround the hill, a steam rolls over the stones, into an iron mountain rift, into the space between two rocks. Tormentor, shriek, O Nightmare, howl, in the deep valleys of the hills, in the fine mountain cleft, whence all thy life thou won't escape, wilt never extricate thyself.
s
Thee I conjure away to the Norja mountain's dell, to the flank of Turja Fell, to a snowy mountain peak, to the northern side of the hill, with thy mouth in snow, thy head in rime, thy hands in the bitter storm, there by the wind to be propelled, be buffeted by the raging storm until thou dry into a rag, become the plaything of the storm.
t
Where shall I warn the pains away, where exorcise the hurts from a wretched human being's skin, from the body of a mother's son? Thither I warn the pains away, thither I force the bitter pangs, the pains to swamps, the pains to fields, the pangs to clearings now run wild, into moving gravel, into rustling sand. If they pay no heed to that surely I know another place. I'll whisk away the pains, I'll squeeze the intermittent pangs into stony rocks, into iron heaps of stone, to pain the stones, to torment the flags. A stone weeps not at pain, nor does a flag bewail its sufferings, though many should be laid on it, be flung on it unstintingly.
u
I warn the pains away, I force the evil pains inside a variegated stone, into the side of a bulky flag; I'll break the stone in two, the flagstone into three; into the water I'll roll the pains, down under the deep sea waves, into the skin of a kindly seal, who to the deep will bear the pains, will float them to the open sea, or under the inky mud, the dust of other times, that there they may remain so long as there is neither moon nor sun, nor human beings in the world, nor any dwellers under heaven.
v
Sickness, if thou wert brought by wind, brought by the wind, by the water dragged, art a present from the chilly wind, art whisked here by an icy blast, take, Wind, what thou hast brought, what thou hast given, Chilly Blast; into thy cradle take the pain, place it below thy powerful wing, that thou mayst hurry it away to creaking weathercocks, to
whistling winds, to hissing clouds, to be rocked by winds, to be handled by the clouds.
w
Thee I conjure away to other, to foreign lands, to Sunku's great farmyards, to the adjoining Russian land. There it is well for thee to live, pleasant for thee to pass thy time, in a pig-stye sleeping all the night, in a sheep-pen all the day. If there thou canst not find a place, go there where I command, to other, to distant lands, to other waters that are black, which by the eye have not been seen, were never heard of by the ear, to priestless places, un-christened lands, where thou’lt be heard of never more, whence thou wilt never show thyself.
x
If from the water thou hast rolled, into the water roll forsooth, creep on the ground like a little snake, like an otter rush along the shore, to the unstable sea, to Lapland's ample bay [v. to Väinö's open sea], into an iron burbot's mouth, into the teeth of a steely pike, who will eat thee bones and all, with thy bones will crunch thee up; to the eye of a blue sik-fish, to the tail of a salmon red, that travels in the waves, swims in the rapids’ foam, dwells under swirling pools, whirls round below the stream. The sik will bear thee to the deep, will float thee to the open sea, far will the salmon carry thee, transport thee further off, down under the deep waves, down on the inky mud, where not a breath of wind is felt, no ripples on the water move.
If thou raise up thy head from there, Ukko will split thy head with a golden club, with a silver wedge.
y
If from the water thou art come, I exorcise thee far away to the clear surface of the sea, to the endless waves. There it is luck for thee to live, pleasant for thee to move about, there the wind will rock thee to and fro, the windward shore will cradle thee, the swell of the sea will make thee sway, the gentle water make thee shake. The wind affords security there, a wave will drive towards thee a perch, the small sik-fish at thy side thou’lt eat, and the salmon that are close at hand. Three swelling waves are on the sea, at the head of each swelling wave—a fire, in front of each fire there stands a man, in each hand he holds a spit, on the spit there is roasted flesh, here is an elk and here an ox, and there the head of a whale. These are the best of roasted meats for a hungry man to eat, for one with a crave to gobble up.
z
Sternly I warn the pains away from this human being's skin. May the pains be shot, may the torments sink into the cup of Kivutar, into the box of Vammatar, into the bed of Vaivatar, down on the pillows of Päivätär. If there no place is to be found, may the torments into the water roll, may the suffering subside into the sea's dark depths, to the lower parts of Saarva lake, nine fathoms deep, whence they will never more escape, will be heard of never more in this long period of time, in all my length of days.
§ 18. TO MAKE FAST.
a
Now move to where I ordered thee, where I conjured and ordered thee, to pass thy weeks and spend thy months
till I shall come to let thee go, till I appear to liberate, shall come to carry thee away, myself arrive to let thee loose with nine rams born of a single ewe, with nine bulls, calves of a single cow, nine stallions, foals of a single mare.
b
Begone to where I ordered thee, commanded thee, exhorted thee, whence unless loosed thou’lt ne’er get loose, unless set free wilt ne’er be free, while this world lasts, while the Lord's moon shines. No liberator liberates thee, no releaser set thee free unless I come to liberate, myself approach to set thee free in company with my three dogs, with five or six of my 'woolly tails,' with seven white-collared dogs, with my eight hounds, with stallions nine, brought forth by a single mare.
Footnotes
68:1 Perhaps the variegated stone and the grindstone mean the moon and sun, for in Finnish riddles 'the golden grindstone, a tin whorl,' is used for the sun.
70:1 i.e. in a serried line like the solid slope of a hill or a long bank of cloud.
74:1 The last four lines refer to a place of burial where the ground is often dug up.
75:1 i.e. From mud-banks in the water where fish live.
77:1 As the past tense is used in the similes, perhaps it implies that the exorcist, while pronouncing the words, threw salt and sand into water and wax into the fire, as a symbolical act.
77:2 i.e. drink them with readiness and avidity, as thou wouldst drink brandy, ale, etc.
80:1 On account of the horse's height.
83:1 i.e. I shall try to inspire my nature or inner man.
83:2 Var. to help the man that throws the lots.