Page:Kalevala (Kirby 1907) v1.djvu/23

Runo I]

Then the Frost his songs recited,

And the rain its legends taught me;

Other songs the winds have wafted,

Or the ocean waves have drifted;

And their songs the birds have added,

And the magic spells the tree-tops.

In a ball I bound them tightly;

And arranged them in a bundle;

On my little sledge I laid it,

On my sleigh I laid the bundle;

Home upon the sledge I brought it,

Then into the barn conveyed it;

In the storehouse loft I placed it,

In a little box of copper.

In the cold my song was resting,

Long remained in darkness hidden.

I must draw the songs from Coldness,

From the Frost must I withdraw them,

Bring my box into the chamber,

On the bench-end lay the casket,

Underneath this noble gable,

Underneath this roof of beauty.

Shall I ope my box of legends,

And my chest where lays are treasured?

Is the ball to be unravelled,

And the bundle’s knot unfastened?

Then I’ll sing so grand a ballad,

That it wondrously shall echo,

While the rye-bread I am eating,

And the beer of barley drinking.

But though ale should not be brought me,

And though beer should not be offered,

I will sing, though dry my throttle,

Or will sing, with water only,

To enhance our evening’s pleasure,

Celebrate the daylight’s beauty,

Or the beauty of the daybreak,

When another day is dawning.

I have often heard related,

And have heard the song recited,