Eino Leino Translations

A translation of Mantsin laulu “Heroes speak of heroes, women tell women’s tales, bridegrooms speak of heartache, maidens of their maiden worries. What will I, a poor man, speak of? I will speak of a young maiden. Was it a wolf that brought down the graceful one? Was the fair one taken by a bear? Did an eagle grab the decorated one? Did a viper bite her heel? That would not distress me so, but I have a greater worry, for the young maiden was taken away by Simo Hurtta, the evil man; he made her lovely eyes cry with his wild wolf-eyes, hurt her red cheeks with his hairy bear-cheeks, destroyed her shapely hair with his eagle-claws, made her firm breasts wither on his cold viper-bosom. That would not distress me so, but I have a greater worry, for I am not man enough to take an arrow to the groove, to raise an axe, to be worthy of a spear of war; old age has taken away my once renowned strength, sickness has sapped my powers, sorrow has broken what was le

A translation of Tuuri Thus sang the gods, the longbeards chanted by the shore of Alue lake, in Tuuri’s new house: “Blessed is our lot in life when luck is in favour and skill is guiding the hand. Wealth is not consumed by living nor beer reduced by serving.” Tuuri the happy, the skilled peasant, poured beer into a pitcher and spoke: “There is wealth, there is joy, we have no lack of food, there is but one sorrow of the heart: stern Tuoni shall come, Death shall reap us all.” As soon as he finished saying that, bells were heard on the winter road, jingle bells at the back of the alley; the host himself listened, the mighty creators fell silent. A guest entered the house, ice on his fur coat, his beard frozen, his eyebrows frosty; a candle went out in the room, Tuuri’s face grew pale. Uninvited Death spoke: “Since I hear no greeting, I shall greet myself.” Happy Tuuri, the skilled peasant, felt his blood chill and his heart stop from wordless a

 A translation of Ihalempi There was a girl in Päivölä, Ihalempi, mother’s maiden, a strawberry of blessed lands, a fruit of Lord’s groves; she went to herd cattle in the summer, never came back. Her brother set out. – Devils lit will-o’-the-wisps. – “Where have you fallen, wretched sister?” – The boy was laid as a duckboard in the swamp. Her father went to find her. – Devils lit will-o’-the-wisps. – “Where did you go, stupid girl?” – The father was taken to the houses of Death. Her mother went to seek her. – Devils lit will-o’-the-wisps. – “Where is my dearest?” – The mother was taken to the houses of heaven. She brought the news to Ukko: “The poor girl was lost on the road.” God went to find her. – Devils lit will-o’-the-wisps. – “Where are you walking, Lord’s dearest?” – All the will-o’-the-wisps went out. The maiden, mother’s berry, sat on a shaking quagmire; the known God asked her: “Why are you blushing?” She, the finest of deep woods, replied