Rune VII-d

This the reason for my weeping; I have lived in toil and torture, Since I left my home and country, Left my native land and kindred, Came to this the land of strangers, To these unfamiliar portals. All thy trees have thorns to wound me, All thy branches, spines to pierce me, Even birches give me trouble, And the alders bring discomfort, My companions, winds and waters, Only does the Sun seem friendly, In this cold and cruel country, Near these unfamiliar portals." Louhi thereupon made answer, Weep no longer, Wainamoinen, Grieve no more, thou friend of waters, Good for thee, that thou shouldst linger At our friendly homes and firesides; Thou shalt live with us and welcome, Thou shalt sit at all our tables, Eat the salmon from our platters, Eat the sweetest of our bacon, Eat the whiting from our waters." Answers thus old Wainamoinen, Grateful for the invitation: "Never do I court strange tables, Though the food be rare and toothsome; One's own country is the dearest, One's own table is the sweetest, One's own home, the most attractive. Grant, kind Ukko, God above me, Thou Creator, full of mercy, Grant that I again may visit My beloved home and country. Better dwell in one's own country, There to drink Its healthful waters From the simple cups of birch-wood, Than in foreign lands to wander, There to drink the rarest liquors From the golden bowls of strangers." Louhi, hostess of Pohyola, Thus replied to the magician: "What reward wilt thou award me, Should I take thee where thou willest, To thy native land and kindred, To thy much-loved home and fireside, To the meadows of Wainola, To the plains of Kalevala?" These the words of Wainamoinen: "What would be reward sufficient, Shouldst thou take me to my people, To my home and distant country, To the borders of the Northland, There to hear the cuckoo singing, Hear the sacred cuckoo calling? Shall I give thee golden treasures, Fill thy cups with finest silver?" This is Louhi's simple answer: "O thou ancient Wainamoinen, Only true and wise magician, Never will I ask for riches, Never ask for gold nor silver; Gold is for the children's flowers, Silver for the stallion's jewels. Canst thou forge for me the Sampo, Hammer me the lid in colors, From the tips of white-swan feathers From the milk of greatest virtue, From a single grain of barley, From the finest wool of lambkins? "I will give thee too my daughter, Will reward thee through the maiden, Take thee to thy much-loved home-land, To the borders of Wainola, There to hear the cuckoo singing, Hear the sacred cuckoo calling." Wainamoinen, much regretting, Gave this answer to her question: "Cannot forge for thee the Sampo, Cannot make the lid in colors. Take me to my distant country, I will send thee Ilmarinen, He will forge for thee the Sampo, Hammer thee the lid in colors, He may win thy lovely maiden; Worthy smith is Ilmarinen, In this art is first and master; He, the one that forged the heavens.