menu_book Chapter 9

Bruno 9 of Kalevala, the Land of the Heroes by Elias Luhnroth. Translated by William Forssell Kirby, 1844-1912. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Expatriate in Bangor, Maine. Bruno 9. The Origin of Iron. Argument. Bynum Oynan repeats to the old man the legend of the origin of iron. The old man reviles the iron

and repeats spells for the stopping of blood, and the flow of blood is stayed. The old man directs his son to prepare a salve and dresses and binds up the wound. Vinamoynen is cured

and thanks Yumala for his merciful assistance. Then the aged Vinamoynen in the sledge at once stood upright. From the sledge he sprang unaided and courageously stood upright.

To the room he hastened quickly, and beneath the roof he hurried. There they brought a silver beaker and a golden goblet likewise, but they proved by far too little, holding but the smallest measure of the blood of aged Vainu from the hero's foot that spouted.

From the stove the old man mumbled, cried the greybeard when he saw him, Who among mankind mayst thou be? Who among the role of heroes? Seven large boats with blood are brimming, Eight large tubs are overflowing

From your knee, O most unhappy On the floor in torrents gushing Other words I well remember But the oldest I recall not How the iron was first created

And the unworked ore was fashioned Then the aged Vinamoynen Answered in the words that follow Well I know the birth of iron And how steel was first created

Air is the primeval mother Water is the eldest brother iron is the youngest brother, and the fire in midst between them. Ukko, mightiest of creators, he, the god above in heaven, from the air the water parted, and the continents from water, when unborn, was evil iron, uncreated, undeveloped. Ukko, god of realms supernal,

rubbed his mighty hands together, both his hands he rubbed together on his left knee, then he pressed them, and three maidens were created, three fair daughters of creation, mothers of the rust of iron, and of blue-mouthed steel, the fosterers. Strolled the maids with faltering footsteps on the borders of the cloudlets,

and their full breasts were overflowing, and their nipples pained them sorely. Down on earth their milk ran over, from their breasts o'erflowing fullness, milk on land and milk on marshes, milk upon the peaceful waters, black milk from the first was flowing from the eldest of the maidens white milk issued from another from the second of the maidens red milk by the third was yielded by the youngest of the maidens where the black milk had been dripping there was found the softest iron where the white milk had been flowing there the hardest steel was fashioned where the red milk had been trickling there was undeveloped iron

but a short time had passed over when the iron desired to visit him its dearest older brother and to make the fire's acquaintance but the fire arose in fury blazing up in greatest anger seeking to consume its victim e'en the wretched iron its brother then the iron sought out a refuge sought for refuge and protection from the hands of furious fire from his mouth all bright with anger then the iron took refuge from him sought both refuge and protection down amid the quaking marshes where the springs have many sources on the level mighty marshes on the void and barren mountains where the swans their eggs deposit and the goose her brood is rearing in the swamps lay hid the iron stretched beneath the marshy surface hid for one year and a second for a third year likewise hidden hidden there between two tree-stumps neath three roots of birch trees hidden but it had not yet found safety from the fierce hands of the fire and a second time it wandered to the dwelling of the fire that it should be forged to weapons and to sword-blades should be fashioned on the marshes wolves were running on the heath the bears came trooping neath the wolves feet quaked the marshes neath the bears the heath was shaken

thus was ore of iron uncovered and the bars of steel were noticed where the claws of wolves had trodden and the paws of bears had trampled then was born smith ilmarinen thus was born and thus was nurtured born upon a hill of charcoal reared upon a plain of charcoal in his hands a copper hammer and his little pinchers likewise ilmari was born at night-time and at day he built his smithy sought a place to build his smithy where he could construct his bellows in the swamp he found a land ridge and a small place in the marshes so he went to gaze upon it and examined the surroundings and erected there his billows and his anvil there constructed then he hastened to the wolf tracks and the bear tracks also followed and the ore of iron he saw there and the lumps of steel he found there in the wolves enormous footprints where the bears paws left their imprints then he spoke the words which follow o thou most unlucky iron in an ill abode thou dwellest in a very lowly station neath the wolf prints in the marshes and the imprints of the bear paws

then he pondered and reflected what would be the upshot of it if i cast it in the fire and i laid it on the anvil sore alarmed was hapless iron sore alarmed and greatly startled when of fire it heard him speaking speaking of the furious fire said the smith said ilmarinen but indeed it cannot happen fire his friends will never injure nor will harm his dear relations if you seek the fire's red chamber all illumined with its brightness you will greatly gain in beauty and your splendour greatly increase fitted thus for men's keen sword-blades or as class for women's girdles therefore when the day was ended was the iron from out the marshes delved from all the swampy places carried homeward to the smithy then he cast it in the furnace and he laid it on the anvil blew a blast and then a second and he blew again a third time till the iron was fully softened and the ore completely melted like to wheaten dough in softness soft as dough for rye bread kneaded in the furnace of the smithy by the bright flame softening power

Then exclaimed the iron, unhappy, O thou smith, O Ilmarinen, take me quickly from this furnace, from the red flames that torment me. Said the smith, said Ilmarinen, if I take you from the furnace, perhaps you might become outrageous and commit some furious action. Perhaps you might attack your brother and your mother's child might injure. Therefore swore the iron unhappy, by the oaths of all most solemn,

by the forge and by the anvil, by the hammer and the mallet, and it said the words which follow, and expressed itself in this wise, Give me trees that I can bite them,

give me stones that I may break them, I will not assault my brother, nor my mother's child will injure, better will be my existence, and my life will be more happy,

if I dwell among companions as the tools of handicraftsmen, then to wound my own relations and disgrace my own connections. Then the smith in Ilmarina,

and he the great primeval craftsman, from the fire removed the iron, laid it down upon the anvil, welded it till it was wearied, shaped it into pointed weapons,

into spears and into axes, into tools of all descriptions. Still there was a trifle wanting, and the soft iron still defective, for the tongue of iron had hissed not, and its mouth of steel was formed not,

for the iron was not yet hardened, nor with water had been tempered. Then the smith e'en ilmarinen pondered over what was needed, mixed a small supply of ashes and some lye he added to it, to the blue steel's smelting mixture, for the tempering of the iron. With his tongue he tried the liquid, tasted it if it would please him,

and he spoke the words which follow. Even yet it does not please me for the blue steel's smelting mixture and perfecting of the iron. From without a bee came flying,

blue-winged from the grassy hillocks, hovering forwards, hovering backwards, hovering all around the smithy. Then the smith spoke up as follows, O thou bee, my nimble comrade,

honey on thy wings convey me, on thy tongue from out the forest, from the summits of six flowerets, and from seven tall grass stems bring it, for the blue steel's smelting mixture and the tempering of the iron.

But the hornet, bird of Hesey, looked around him and he listened, gazing from beside the roof tree looking from below the birch bark at the tempering of the iron and the blue steel's smelting mixture. Thence he flew on whirring pinions, scattering all of Hesey's terrors, brought the hissing of the serpents and of snakes the dusky venom,

and of ants he brought the acid and of toads the hidden poison that the steel might thus be poisoned in the tempering of the iron. Then the smith in Ilmarinen,

he the greatest of the craftsmen, was deluded and imagined that the bead returned already and had brought the honey needed, brought the honey that he wanted

and he spoke the words which follow. Here at last is what will please me for the blue steel's smelting mixture and the tempering of the iron. there upon the steel he lifted in he plunged the luckless iron as from out the fire he took it and he took it from the anvil then indeed the steel was angry and the iron was seized with fury and its oath the wretch has broken like a dog has soiled its honour

brutally its brother bitten striking at its own relations let the blood rush forth in torrents from the wound in torrents gushing from the stove the old man mumbled shook his beard his head he nodded now i know whence comes the iron and of steel the evil customs o thou most unhappy iron wretched iron slag most worthless steel thou art of evil witchcraft thou hast been for naught developed but to turn to evil courses in the greatness of thy power once thou wast devoid of greatness neither wast thou great nor little neither noted for thy beauty nor remarkable for evil when as milk thou wast created when the sweet milk trickled over from the breasts of youthful maidens from the maiden's swelling bosoms on the borders of the cloudland neath the broad expanse of heaven thou wast then devoid of greatness thou wast neither great nor little when thou in the mud wast resting sunk below the sparkling water overspreading all the marshland at the base of rocky mountains and in loose earth thou wast altered and to iron ore converted thou wast still devoid of greatness thou wast neither great nor little when the elks were trampling o'er thee and the reindeer in the marshes when the wolves claws trod upon thee and the bears paws passed above thee

thou wast still devoid of greatness thou wast neither great nor little when thou from the marsh wast gathered from the ground with care uplifted carried thence into the smithy to the forge of ilmarinen thou wast still devoid of greatness thou wast neither great nor little when as o'er thou there wast hissing plunged amid the boiling water or amid the fiery furnace when the mighty oath thou sworest by the forge and by the anvil by the hammer and the mallet where the smith himself was standing on the flooring of the smithy now that thou hast grown to greatness thou hast wrought thyself to frenzy and thy mighty oath hast broken like a dog hast soiled thy honour for thy kinsman thou hast wounded raised thy mouth against thy kinsman who has led thee to this outrage to this wickedness incited perhaps thy father or thy mother or the eldest of thy brothers or the youngest of thy sisters or some other near relation not thy father nor thy mother nor the eldest of thy brothers nor the youngest of thy sisters nor some other near relation

Thou thyself hast wrought the evil, and hast done a deadly outrage. Come thyself to see the mischief and to remedy the evil. Come before I tell thy mother and complain unto thy parents. More will be thy mother's trouble, great the anguish of thy parents, that their son had wrought this evil, and their son had wrought this folly. Hear me, blood, and cease thy flowing O thou bloodstream, rush no longer Nor upon my head spurt further Nor upon my breast down trickle

Like a wall, O blood, arrest thee Like a fence, O bloodstream, stand thou As a flag in lakelet standing Like a reed in moss-grown country Like the bank that bounds the cornfield

Like a rock in raging torrent But thy own sense ought to teach thee how that thou shouldst run more smoothly. In the flesh shouldst thou be moving, with thy current smoothly flowing.

In the body is it better, underneath the skin more lovely. Through the veins to trace thy pathway, with thy current smoothly flowing. Then upon the earth rash downward,

and among the dust to trickle. Flow not milk upon the flooring. Soil thou not, O blood, the meadows, nor the grass, O crown of manhood, nor the hillocks gold of heroes.

in the heart should be thy dwelling and among the lungs dark cellars thither then withdraw thou quickly there withdraw upon the instant do not issue like a river

nor as pond extend thy billows trickling forth from out the marshes nor to leak like boats when damaged therefore dear one cease thy flowing crimson blood drip down no longer

not impeded but contented dry were once the falls of Tyria likewise to Onella's dread river dry the lake and dry the heaven in the mighty droughts of summer

in the evil times of bushfires if thou wilt not yet obey me still I know another method and resort to fresh enchantments and I call for Hese's cauldron

and will boil the blood within it all the blood that forth has issues so that not a drop escapes me that the red blood flows no longer nor the blood to earth drops downward,

and the blood no more may issue. But if manly strength has failed me, nor is Ukko's son a hero, who can stop this inundation, stem the swift arterial torrent?

Thou our father in the heavens, you, Mala, the clouds who rulest, thou hast manly strength sufficient. Thou thyself the mighty hero, who shall close the blood's wide gateway

and shall stem the blood escaping. Ukko, O thou great creator Yumala, aloft in heaven Hither come where thou art needed Hither come where we implore thee

Press thy mighty hands upon it Press thy mighty thumbs upon it And the painful wound close firmly And the door whence comes the evil Spread the tender leaves upon it

Leaves of golden water lily Thus to close the path of bleeding And to stem the rushing torrent That upon my beard it spurts not nor upon my rags may trickle.

Thus he closed the bleeding opening, stemming thus the bloody torrent, sent his son into the smithy to prepare a healing ointment from the blades of magic grasses,

from the thousand-headed yarrow, and from dripping mountain honey falling down in drops of sweetness. Then the boy went to the smithy to prepare the healing ointment.

On the way he passed an oak tree, and he stopped and asked the oak tree, Have you honey on your branches, and beneath your bark sweet honey? And the oak tree gave him answer. Yesterday throughout the evening dripped the honey on my branches.

On my summit splashed the honey. From the clouds dropped down the honey. From the scattered clouds distilling. Then he took the slender oak twigs. From the tree the broken fragments.

Took the best among the grasses. Gathered many kinds of herbage. Herbs one sees not in this country. Such were mostly what he gathered. Then he placed them o'er the furnace, and the mixture brought to boiling,

both the bark from off the oak tree and the finest of the grasses. Thus the pot was boiling fiercely. Three long nights he kept it boiling, and for three days of the springtime, while he watched the ointment closely, if the salve was fit for using and the magic ointment ready. But the salve was still unfinished, nor the magic ointment ready.

Grasses to the mass, he added, added herbs of many species, which were brought from other places, gathered on a hundred pathways. These were culled by nine magicians, and by eight wise seers discovered. Then for three nights more he boiled it, and for nine nights in succession, took the pot from off the furnace and the salve with care examined,

if the salve was fit for using and the magic ointment ready. Here there grew a branching aspen on the borders of the cornfield, and in twain he broke the aspen, and the tree completely severed. With the magic salve he smeared it, carefully the ointment tested, and he spoke the words which follow.

As I with this magic ointment smear the injured crown all over, let no harm be left upon it, let the aspen stand uninjured, even as it stood aforetime. then at once was healed the aspen even as it stood aforetime

and its crown was far more lovely and the trunk below was healthy then again he took the ointment and the salve again he tested and on broken stones he tried it

and on shattered rocks he rubbed it and the stone with stone knit firmly and the cracks were fixed together from the forge the boy came homeward when the salve was fit for using

with the ointment quite perfected In the old man's hands he placed it. Here I bring the perfect ointment, and the magic salve is ready. It could fuse the hills together, and a single rock unite them. With his tongue the old man tried it. With his mouth the liquid tasted, and the ointment tasted perfect, and the salve was most efficient. this he smeared on vinminen and with this he healed the sufferer stroked him

downward stroked him upward rubbed him also on the middle and he spoke the words which follow and expressed himself in this wise tis not I who use

my muscles but tis the creator moves them with my own strength do not labor but with strength from the almighty with my mouth I speak not to you

you malas own mouth speaks with you. If my speech is sweet unto you, Jumala's own speech is sweeter. Even if my hands are lovely, the Creator's hands are fairer. When the salve was rubbed upon him and the healing

ointment touched him, almost fainting with the anguish, Vinamoynen writhed and struggled, turning this way, turning that way, seeking ease but never finding. Then the old man banned the suffering. Far away he drove the anguish,

to the central hill of tortures, to the topmost mount of suffering, there to fill the stones with anguish and the slabs of rock to torture. Then he took a silken fabric and in strips he quickly cut it. From the edge he tore the fragments and at once he formed a bandage. Then he took the silken bandage and with utmost care he wound it.

Round the knees he wound it deftly, round the toes of Vinomoynon. Then he spoke the words which follow, and expressed himself in this wise. Thus I use God's silken bandage. The Creator's mantle wind I round the great knees of the patient, round the toes of one most noble.

Watch thou, Yumala, most gracious. Give thy aid, O great Creator, that we fall not in misfortune, that no evil may o'ertake us. Then the aged Vinamoynon felt he had regained his vigour, and that he was healed completely,

and his flesh again was solid and beneath it all was healthy. In his body he was painless and his sides were quite uninjured. From above the wounds had vanished, stronger felt he than aforetime, better than in former seasons. On his feet he now was walking and could bend his knees in stamping.

Not the least of pain he suffered, not a trace remained of aching. Then the aged Vinamoynon lifted up his eyes to heaven, gazing up to God most gracious, lifting up his head to heaven, and he spoke the words which followed

and expressed himself in this wise. Thence all mercy flows forever. Thence comes aid the most effective from the heaven that arches o'er us, from the omnipotent Creator.

Praise to you, Mala, most gracious. Praise to thee, O great Creator, that thy aid thou hast vouchsafed me, granted me thy strong protection. when my suffering was the greatest from the edge of sharpest iron.

Then the aged Vinamoynon further spoke these words of warning. People, henceforth in the future on your present welfare build not. Make no boat in mood of boasting, nor confide too much in boat ribs. God foresees the course of byways, the creator orders all things, not the foresight of the heroes, nor the might of all the great ones.

End of Runo 9 Recording by Expatriot in Bangor, Maine