Rune XXVIIb

O thou hostess of Pohyola, Toothless dame of dismal Northland, Badly managed is thy wedding, And thy feast is ill-conducted, Like the dogs hast thou invited; Thou hast baked the honey-biscuit, Wheaten loaves of greatest virtue, Brewed thy beer from hops and barley, Sent abroad thine invitations, Six the hamlets thou hast honored, Nine the villages invited By thy merry wedding-callers. Thou hast asked the poor and lowly, Asked the hosts of common people, Asked the blind, and deaf, and crippled, Asked a multitude of beggars, Toilers by the day, and hirelings; Asked the men of evil habits, Asked the maids with braided tresses, I alone was not invited. How could such a slight be given, Since I sent thee kegs of barley? Others sent thee grain in cupfuls, Brought it sparingly in dippers, While I sent thee fullest measure, Sent the half of all my garners, Of the richest of my harvest, Of the grain that I had gathered. Even now young Lemminkainen, Though a guest of name and station Has no beer, no food, no welcome, Naught for him art thou preparing, Nothing cooking in thy kettles, Nothing brewing in thy cellars For the hero of the Islands, At the closing of his journey." Ilpotar, the ancient hostess, Gave this order to her servants: "Come, my pretty maiden-waiter, Servant-girl to me belonging, Lay some salmon to the broiling, Bring some beer to give the stranger!" Small of stature was the maiden, Washer of the banquet-platters, Rinser of the dinner-ladles, Polisher of spoons of silver, And she laid some food in kettles, Only bones and beads of whiting, Turnip-stalks and withered cabbage, Crusts of bread and bits of biscuit. Then she brought some beer in pitchers, Brought of common drink the vilest, That the stranger, Lemminkainen, Might have drink, and meat in welcome, Thus to still his thirst and hunger. Then the maiden spake as follows: "Thou art sure a mighty hero, Here to drink the beer of Pohya, Here to empty all our vessels!" Then the minstrel, Lemminkainen, Closely handled all the pitchers, Looking to the very bottoms; There beheld he writhing serpents, In the centre adders swimming, On the borders worms and lizards. Then the hero, Lemminkainen, Filled with anger, spake as follows: Get ye hence, ye things of evil, Get ye hence to Tuonela, With the bearer of these pitchers, With the maid that brought ye hither, Ere the evening moon has risen, Ere the day-star seeks the ocean! O thou wretched beer of barley, Thou hast met with great dishonor, Into disrepute hast fallen, But I'll drink thee, notwithstanding, And the rubbish cast far from me." Then the hero to his pockets Thrust his first and unnamed finger, Searching in his pouch of leather; Quick withdraws a hook for fishing, Drops it to the pitcher's bottom, Through the worthless beer of barley; On his fish-book hang the serpents, Catches many hissing adders, Catches frogs in magic numbers, Catches blackened worms in thousands, Casts them to the floor before him, Quickly draws his heavy broad sword, And decapitates the serpents.