Page:Kalevala (Kirby 1907) v1.djvu/250

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Speed thou forth where I shall bid thee,

Where I bid thee and direct thee,

Forth to Metsola’s bright regions,

And to Tapiola’s great wisdom.

There a little tree upclimbing,

Heedful to the leafy summit,

That the eagle may not seize thee,

Nor the bird of air may grasp thee.

From the pine-tree bring me pine-cones,

From the fir bring shoots of fir-tree,

Bring them to the hands of maiden,

For the beer of Osmo’s daughter.’

“Knew the squirrel now his pathway,

Trailed his bushy tail behind him,

And his journey soon accomplished.

Quickly through the open spaces,

Past one wood, and then a second,

And a third he crossed obliquely,

Into Metsola’s bright regions,

And to Tapiola’s great wisdom.

“There he saw three lofty pine-trees,

There he saw four slender fir-trees,

Climbed a pine-tree in the valley,

On the heath he climbed a fir-tree,

And the eagle did not seize him,

Nor the bird of air did grasp him.

“From the pine he broke the pine-cones,

From the fir the leafy tassels,

In his claws he hid the pine-cones,

And within his paws he rolled them,

To the maiden’s hands he brought them,

To the noble damsel’s fingers.

“In the beer the maiden laid them,

In the ale she placed them likewise,

But the ale was not fermented,

Nor the fresh drink yet was working.

“Osmotar, the ale-preparer,

She, the maid who beer concocted,

Pondered yet again the matter.

‘What must now be added to it,