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Thou must go upon thy journey,

Leap along upon the journey,

Forth from out this narrow dwelling,

From this low and narrow cottage,

To a lofty house that waits thee,

To a wide and pleasant dwelling.

“Golden one, go forth to wander,

Dearest treasure, march thou onward,

On the swine’s path march thou onward,

Traversing the road of piglings,

To the firwood so luxuriant,

To the needle-covered pine-trees,

To the hills all clothed with forest,

To the lofty-rising mountains.

Here for thee to dwell is pleasant,

Charming is it to abide there,

Where the cattle-bells are ringing,

And the little bells are tinking.”

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,

After this his dwelling entered,

And the younger people asked him,

All the handsome people asked him,

“Where have you bestowed your booty,

Whither did you make your journey?

Have you left him in the icefield,

In the snow-slush have you sunk him,

Pushed him down in the morasses,

Buried him upon the heathland?”

Väinämöinen, old and steadfast,

Answered in the words which follow:

“In the ice I did not leave him,

Sunk him not among the snow-slush,

For the dogs from thence would drag him,

Likewise would the birds befoul him.

In the swamp I have not sunk him,

Nor upon the heath have buried,

For the worms would there destroy him

And the black ants would devour him.

“Thither have I brought my booty,

There bestowed my little captive,