Page:Kalevala (Kirby 1907) v1.djvu/299

Runo XXIII]

On the door I knocked my forehead,

And my head against the doorposts.

At the door were eyes of strangers:

Darksome eyes were at the entrance,

Squinting eyes in midst of chamber,

In the background eyes most evil.

From the mouths the fire was flashing,

From beneath the tongues shot firebrands,

From the old man’s mouth malicious,

From beneath his tongue unfriendly.

“But I let it not distress me,

In the house I dwelt unheeding,

Hoping still to live in favour,

And I bore myself with meekness,

And with legs of hare went skipping,

With the step of ermine hurried,

Very late to rest retired,

Very early rose to suffering.

But, unhappy, won no honour,

Mildness brought me only sorrow,

Had I tossed away the torrents,

Or the rocks in twain had cloven.

“Vainly did I grind coarse flour,

And with pain I crushed its hardness,

That my mother-in-law should eat it,

And her ravenous throat devour it,

At the table-end while sitting,

From a dish with golden borders.

But I ate, unhappy daughter,

Flour scraped up, to handmill cleaving,

With my ladle from the hearthstone

With my spoon from off the pestle.

“Oft I brought, O me unhappy,

I, the son’s wife, to his dwelling,

Mosses from the swampy places,

And as bread for me I baked it.

Water from the well I carried,

And I drank it up in mouthfuls.

Fish I ate, O me unhappy,

Smelts I ate, O me unhappy,