Rune III-f

Spake again young Youkahainen: "O thou ancient Wainamoinen, Thou the only true magician, Cease I pray thee thine enchantment, Only turn away thy magic, I will give thee gold abundant, Countless stores of shining silver; From the wars my father brought it, Brought it from the hard-fought battles." Spake the wise, old Wainamoinen: "For thy gold I have no longing, Neither do I wish thy silver, Have enough of each already; Gold abundant fills my chambers, On each nail hang bags of silver, Gold that glitters in the sunshine, Silver shining in the moonlight." Sank the braggart, Youkahainen, Deeper in his slough of torment, To his chin in mud and water, Ever praying, thus beseeching: "O thou ancient Wainamoinen, Greatest of the old magicians, Lift me from this pit of horror, From this prison-house of torture; I will give thee all my corn-fields, Give thee all my corn in garners, Thus my hapless life to ransom, Thus to gain eternal freedom." Wainamoinen thus made answer: "Take thy corn to other markets, Give thy garners to the needy; I have corn in great abundance, Fields have I in every quarter, Corn in all my fields is growing; One's own fields are always richer, One's own grain is much the sweeter." Lapland's young and reckless minstrel, Sorrow-laden, thus enchanted, Deeper sinks in mud and water, Fear-enchained and full of anguish, In the mire, his beard bedrabbled, Mouth once boastful filled with sea-weed, In the grass his teeth entangled, Youkahainen thus beseeches: "O thou ancient Wainamoinen, Wisest of the wisdom-singers, Cease at last thine incantations, Only turn away thy magic, And my former life restore me, Lift me from this stifling torment, Free mine eyes from sand and water, I will give thee sister, Aino, Fairest daughter of my mother, Bride of thine to be forever, Bride of thine to do thy pleasure, Sweep the rooms within thy cottage, Keep thy dwelling-place in order, Rinse for thee the golden platters, Spread thy couch with finest linens, For thy bed, weave golden covers, Bake for thee the honey-biscuit." Wainamoinen, old and truthful, Finds at last the wished-for ransom, Lapland's young and fairest daughter, Sister dear of Youkahainen; Happy he, that he has won him, In his age a beauteous maiden, Bride of his to be forever, Pride and joy of Kalevala. Now the happy Wainamoinen, Sits upon the rock of gladness, Joyful on the rock of music, Sings a little, sings and ceases, Sings again, and sings a third time, Thus to break the spell of magic, Thus to lessen the enchantment, Thus the potent charm to banish. As the magic spell is broken, Youkahainen, sad, but wiser, Drags his feet from out the quicksand, Lifts his beard from out the water, From the rocks leads forth his courser, Brings his sledge back from the rushes, Calls his whip back from the ocean, Sets his golden sledge in order, Throws himself upon the cross-bench, Snaps his whip and hies him homeward, Hastens homeward, heavy-hearted, Sad indeed to meet his mother, Aino's mother, gray and aged.