Eino Leino Translations

A translation of Kouta Kouta of Lapland, a grim man, was the greatest among sages behind the fell of Turja. Vipers shone green in his eyes, night-bats flew from his mouth, wolverines rose from under his foot, stoats ran on his arm, a raven balanced itself on his head, vultures sat on his shoulders. All that mortals knew, he knew, all that gods could do, he could; he could not bind blue fire, open the treasure tombs. He set out to learn the deepest power of Mantu. He travelled pathless ways, unmeasured distances, crossing lakes as ice, waves as frost, fells as a roar of thunder; children wailed in Lapland, dogs whined, a cold wind came in through doors, embers darkened in goahtis. A Maahinen slept in his hut; hearing Kouta approach, he yawned, gaped, spread his jaws: great pines fell whole into the bottomless pit; not Kouta, the grim man. The Earthsleeper rose from the ground: “Who is this traveller, what mighty thing roams here, that will not fall into my mouth?” Said Kouta, the grim

A translation of Oterma ja Katerma There once was a man, Oterma, he had a brother, Katerma, both had young wives. Early one morning they were driving through a dim forest; a devil-bird sang in a tree: “Oterma has a limp while Katerma is handsome, a bird of hell enjoys eating the bloody liver of a brother.” The elder brother swore: “Got something to say, bird of hell?” The younger brother spoke thus: “Just some birdsong to entertain us on our journey.” The brothers were returning home as a winter day darkened; evil spoke from a tall pine: “Oterma’s joy is full-figured while Katerma’s woman is skinny, a bird of hell enjoys eating the nipples of a young woman.” Katerma took a stick and threw it at the winged creature. “What are you saying, abomination?” The elder brother grunted: “Singing some sense into a man’s head.” Some time passed, snow was gleaming, hazel grouses were burring, blackcocks were cooing; fair Katerma spoke: “You approach the game from that direction, I’ll go this way.

A translation of Tyyrin tytti The empty girl of Tyyri, a cowherd of little worth at the rectory, went to mass in the summer and servant girls mocked her: “There comes Miss Nothing without proper church clothes.” She came home crying. – She spent her nights alone, weaving, sowing in the cow-house, and with each stab of the needle a prick dissolved from her heart; having completed the skirt, she entered the house of the Lord. The people in the village were asking: “Who is this Cinderella arriving without godly pearls?” She came home crying. – She spent her summer gathering pearls at cattle fords, and with each fine pearl a tear dried up on her cheek; she stringed the pearls on a cord and went to the house of the Lord. Suitors were standing by the roadside, each holding a flower for his sweetheart; a young lady who took a flower was a kind companion for the church road, one who held a flower and studied it was a fair partner for the dance, one who hid a flower at her bosom was to be a

A translation of Räikkö räähkä Wretched Räikkö, an unkempt man, showed the enemy the way between two cliffs on a quiet autumn night; he did so fearing for his life. They burned the village to ashes, slew people in abundance. One house remained standing: it was the house of wretched Räikkö. The evening of the second day came. – The refugees, one here, another there, glancing around, cowering, wary of trees and bushes, returned to the bloody corpses, to beloved ruins. Räikkö at his door watched and listened. “What do you seek, old lady?” “I sought my golden home, found smoking ashes.” Räikkö at his door looked pale and sickly. “What are you looking at, dear friend?” “I’m looking at a bloody knife, maybe my brother’s, maybe my brother-in-law’s.” Räikkö’s son on the steps cried profusely. “Why are you crying, poor boy?” “I cry for the jolly stallion; I found the bell by the roadside.” Räikkö hid in his house, barred the doors, closed the bolts, sat on the bench by the oven. “What are y