Rune XV-f

Now the mother speaks as follows: "Where may I procure the balsam, Where the drops of magic honey, To anoint my son and hero, Thus to heal my Lemminkainen, That again his month may open, May again begin his singing, Speak again in words of wonder, Sing again his incantations? "Tiny bee, thou honey-birdling, Lord of all the forest flowers, Fly away and gather honey, Bring to me the forest-sweetness, Found in Metsola's rich gardens, And in Tapio's fragrant meadows, From the petals of the flowers, From the blooming herbs and grasses, Thus to heal my hero's anguish, Thus to heal his wounds of evil." Thereupon the honey-birdling Flies away on wings of swiftness, Into Metsola's rich gardens, Into Tapio's flowery meadows, Gathers sweetness from the meadows, With the tongue distills the honey From the cups of seven flowers, From the bloom of countless grasses; Quick from Metsola returning, Flying, humming darting onward, With his winglets honey-laden, With the store of sweetest odors, To the mother brings the balsam. Lemminkainen's anxious mother Takes the balm of magic virtues, And anoints the injured hero, Heals his wounds and stills his anguish; But the balm is inefficient, For her son is deaf and speechless. Then again out-speaks the mother: Lemminkainen's Restoration. "Little bee, my honey-birdling, Fly away in one direction, Fly across the seven oceans, In the eighth, a magic island, Where the honey is enchanted, To the distant Turi-castles, To the chambers of Palwoinen; There the honey is effective, There, the wonder-working balsam, This may heal the wounded hero; Bring me of this magic ointment, That I may anoint his eyelids, May restore his injured senses." Thereupon the honey-birdling Flew away o'er seven oceans, To the old enchanted island; Flies one day, and then a second, On the verdure does not settle, Does not rest upon the flowers; Flies a third day, fleetly onward, Till a third day evening brings him To the island in the ocean, To the meadows rich in honey, To the cataract and fire-flow, To the sacred stream and whirlpool. There the honey was preparing, There the magic balm distilling In the tiny earthen vessels, In the burnished copper kettles, Smaller than a maiden's thimble, Smaller than the tips of fingers. Faithfully the busy insect Gathers the enchanted honey From the magic Turi-cuplets In the chambers of Palwoinen. Time had gone but little distance, Ere the bee came loudly humming Flying fleetly, honey-laden; In his arms were seven vessels, Seven, the vessels on each shoulder; All were filled with honey-balsam, With the balm of magic virtues. Lemminkainen's tireless mother Quick anoints her speechless hero, With the magic Turi-balsam, With the balm of seven virtues; Nine the times that she anoints him With the honey of Palwoinen, With the wonder-working balsam; But the balm is inefficient, For the hero still is speechless. Then again out-speaks the mother: "Honey-bee, thou ether birdling, Fly a third time on thy journey, Fly away to high Jumala, Fly thou to the seventh heaven, Honey there thou'lt find abundant, Balsam of the highest virtue, Only used by the Creator, Only made from the breath of Ukko.