Rune XVIII-a

RIVAL SUITORS Wainamoinen, old and truthful, Long considered, long debated, How to woo and win the daughter Of the hostess of Pohyola, How to lead the Bride of Beauty, Fairy maiden of the rainbow, To the meadows of Wainola, From the dismal Sariola. Now he decks his magic vessel, Paints the boat in blue and scarlet, Trims in gold the ship's forecastle, Decks the prow in molten silver; Sings his magic ship down gliding, On the cylinders of fir-tree: Now erects the masts of pine-wood, On each mast the sails of linen, Sails of blue, and white, and scarlet, Woven into finest fabric. Wainamoinen, the magician, Steps aboard his wondrous vessel, Steers the bark across the waters, On the blue back of the broad-sea, Speaks these words in sailing northward, Sailing to the dark Pohyola: "Come aboard my ship, O Ukko, Come with me, thou God of mercy, To protect thine ancient hero, To support thy trusting servant, On the breasts of raging billows, On the far out-stretching waters. "Rock, O winds, this wondrous vessel, Causing not a single ripple; Rolling waves, bear ye me northward, That the oar may not be needed In my journey to Pohyola, O'er this mighty waste of waters." Ilmarinen's beauteous sister, Fair and goodly maid, Annikki, Of the Night and Dawn, the daughter, Who awakes each morning early, Rises long before the daylight, Stood one morning on the sea-shore, Washing in the foam her dresses, Rinsing out her silken ribbons, On the bridge of scarlet color, On the border of the highway, On a headland jutting seaward, On the forest-covered island. Here Annikki, looking round her, Looking through the fog and ether, Looking through the clouds of heaven, Gazing far out on the blue-sea, Sees the morning sun arising, Glimmering along the billows, Looks with eyes of distant vision Toward the sunrise on the waters, Toward the winding streams of Suomi, Where the Wina-waves were flowing. There she sees, on the horizon, Something darkle in the sunlight, Something blue upon the billows, Speaks these words in wonder guessing: What is this upon the surges, What this blue upon the waters, What this darkling in the sunlight? 'Tis perhaps a flock of wild-geese, Or perchance the blue-duck flying; Then upon thy wings arising, Fly away to highest heaven. "Art thou then a shoal of sea-trout, Or perchance a school of salmon? Dive then to the deep sea-bottom, In the waters swim and frolic. "Art thou then a cliff of granite, Or perchance a mighty oak-tree, Floating on the rough sea-billows? May the floods then wash and beat thee Break thee to a thousand fragments." Wainamoinen, sailing northward, Steers his wondrous ship of magic Toward the headland jutting seaward, Toward the island forest-covered. Now Annikki, goodly maiden, Sees it is the magic vessel Of a wonderful enchanter, Of a mighty bard and hero, And she asks this simple question: "Art thou then my father's vessel, Or my brother's ship of magic? Haste away then to thy harbor, To thy refuge in Wainola. Hast thou come a goodly distance?