Page:Kalevala (Kirby 1907) v1.djvu/64

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Fetch the water for her baking,

From the wide bay near her dwelling.

“To the shore I went to wash me,

To the lake I went to bathe me,

But, like tender dove, I vanished,

Like a bird by death o’ertaken.

Never may my dearest brother,

Never while his life endureth,

Water here his prancing courser,

Here upon the broad lake’s margin.

“To the shore I went to wash me,

To the lake I went to bathe me,

But, like tender dove, I vanished,

Like a bird by death o’ertaken.

Never may my dearest sister,

Never while her life endureth,

Hither stay to wash her eyebrows,

On the bridge so near her dwelling.

In the lake the very water

Is as blood that leaves my veinlets;

Every fish that swims this water,

Is as flesh from off my body;

All the bushes on the margin

Are as ribs of me unhappy;

And the grass upon the margin

As my soiled and tangled tresses.”

Thus the youthful maiden perished,

And the dove so lovely vanished.

Who shall now the tidings carry,

And repeat the mournful story,

At the dwelling of the maiden,

At the homestead of the fair one?

First the bear would take the tidings,

And repeat the mournful story ;

But the bear conveyed no tidings,

For he strayed among the cattle.

Who shall now the tidings carry,

And repeat the mournful story,

At the dwelling of the maiden,

At the homestead of the fair one?