Kalevala : the Epic Poem of Finland – Volume 02. Неизвестный авторЧитать онлайн книгу.

        That by jumping on the rafters

        He might catch the dog's attention.

        But the master of the Northland

        Conjured there a golden marten,

        And he drove the magic squirrel

        From his seat upon the rafters.

        Lemminkainen, full of mischief,

        Made a fox of scarlet color,

        And it ate the golden marten.

        Then the master of Pohyola

        Conjured there a hen to flutter

        Near the fox of scarlet color.

        Lemminkainen, full of mischief,

        Thereupon a hawk created,

        That with beak and crooked talons

        He might tear the hen to pieces.

        Spake the landlord of Pohyola,

        These the words the tall man uttered:

        "Never will this feast be bettered

        Till the guests are less in number;

        I must do my work as landlord,

        Get thee hence, thou evil stranger,

        Cease thy conjurings of evil,

        Leave this banquet of my people,

        Haste away, thou wicked wizard,

        To thine Island-home and people!

        Spake the reckless Lemminkainen:

        "Thus no hero will be driven,

        Not a son of any courage

        Will be frightened by thy presence,

        Will be driven from thy banquet."

        Then the landlord of Pohyola

        Snatched his broadsword from the rafters,

        Drew it rashly from the scabbard,

        Thus addressing Lemminkainen:

        "Ahti, Islander of evil,

        Thou the handsome Kaukomieli,

        Let us measure then our broadswords,

        Let our skill be fully tested;

        Surely is my broadsword better

        Than the blade within thy scabbard."

        Spake the hero, Lemminkainen.

        "That my blade is good and trusty,

        Has been proved on heads of heroes,

        Has on many bones been tested;

        Be that as it may, my fellow,

        Since thine order is commanding,

        Let our swords be fully tested,

        Let us see whose blade is better.

        Long ago my hero-father

        Tested well this sword in battle,

        Never failing in a conflict.

        Should his son be found less worthy?"

        Then he grasped his mighty broadsword,

        Drew the fire-blade from the scabbard

        Hanging from his belt of copper.

        Standing on their hilts their broadswords,

        Carefully their blades were measured,

        Found the sword of Northland's master

        Longer than the sword of Ahti

        By the half-link of a finger.

        Spake the reckless Lemminkainen.

        "Since thou hast the longer broadsword,

        Thou shalt make the first advances,

        I am ready for thy weapon."

        Thereupon Pohyola's landlord

        With the wondrous strength of anger,

        Tried in vain to slay the hero,

        Strike the crown of Lemminkainen;

        Chipped the splinters from the rafters,

        Cut the ceiling into fragments,

        Could not touch the Island-hero.

        Thereupon brave Kaukomieli,

        Thus addressed Pohyola's master:

        "Have the rafters thee offended?

        What the crimes they have committed,

        Since thou hewest them in pieces?

        Listen now, thou host of Northland,

        Reckless landlord of Pohyola,

        Little room there is for swordsmen

        In these chambers filled with women;

        We shall stain these painted rafters,

        Stain with blood these floors and ceilings;

        Let us go without the mansion,

        In the field is room for combat,

        On the plain is space sufficient;

        Blood looks fairer in the court-yard,

        Better in the open spaces,

        Let it dye the snow-fields scarlet."

        To the yard the heroes hasten,

        There they find a monstrous ox-skin,

        Spread it on the field of battle;

        On the ox-skin stand the swordsmen.

        Spake the hero, Lemminkainen:

        "Listen well, thou host of Northland,

        Though thy broadsword is the longer,

        Though thy blade is full of horror,

        Thou shalt have the first advantage;

        Use with skill thy boasted broadsword

        Ere the final bout is given,

        Ere thy head be chopped in pieces;

        Strike with skill, or thou wilt perish,

        Strike, and do thy best for Northland."

        Thereupon Pohyola's landlord

        Raised on high his blade of battle,

        Struck a heavy blow in anger,

        Struck a second, then a third time,

        But he could not touch his rival,

        Could Dot draw a single blood-drop

        From the veins of Lemminkainen,

        Skillful Islander and hero.

        Spake the handsome Kaukomieli:

        "Let me try my skill at fencing,

        Let me swing my father's broadsword,

        Let my honored blade be tested!"

        But the landlord of Pohyola,

        Does not heed the words of Ahti,

        Strikes in fury, strikes unceasing,

        Ever aiming, ever missing.

        When the skillful Lemminkainen

        Swings his mighty blade of magic,

        Fire disports along his weapon,

        Flashes