Page:Kalevala (Kirby 1907) v2.djvu/135

Runo XXXVI]

No one forward came to greet him,

No one came his hand to offer.

To the hearth he stretched his hand out,

On the hearth the coals were frozen,

And he knew on his arrival,

That his mother was not living.

To the stove he stretched his hand out,

At the stove the stones were frozen,

And he knew on his arrival,

That his father was not living.

On the floor his eyes then casting,

All he noticed in confusion,

And he knew on his arrival,

That his sister was not living.

To the mooring-place he hastened,

But no boats were at their moorings,

And he knew on his arrival,

That his brother was not living.

Thereupon he broke out weeping,

And he wept one day, a second,

And he spoke the words which follow:

“O my mother, O my dearest,

Hast thou left me nought behind thee,

When thou livedst in this country?

“But thou hearest not, O mother,

Even though my eyes are sobbing,

And my temples are lamenting,

And my head is all complaining.”

In the grave his mother wakened,

And beneath the mould made answer:

“Still there lives the black dog, Musti,

Go with him into the forest,

At thy side let him attend thee,

Take him to the wooded country,

Where the forest rises thickest,

Where reside the forest-maidens,

Where the Blue Maids have their dwelling,

And the birds frequent the pine-trees,

There to seek for their assistance,

And to seek to win their favour.”