The Kalevala – Rune XLVIII (Elias Lonnrot Poems)
CAPTURE OF THE FIRE-FISH.Wainamoinen, the enchanter,The eternal wisdom-singer,Long reflected, well considered,How to weave the net of flax-yarn,Weave the fish-net of ...
CAPTURE OF THE FIRE-FISH.Wainamoinen, the enchanter,The eternal wisdom-singer,Long reflected, well considered,How to weave the net of flax-yarn,Weave the fish-net of ...
LOUHI STEALS SUN, MOON, AND FIRE.Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel,Touched again his magic harp-strings,Sang in miracles of concord,Filled the north with joy ...
WAINAMOINEN'S SAILING.Wainamoinen, old and faithful,Spake these words to Ilmarinen:"O thou wonder-working brother,Let us go to Sariola,There to gain the magic ...
WAINAMOINEN'S HAPLESS JOURNEY.Wainamoinen, old and truthful,Now arranges for a journeyTo the village of the Northland,To the land of cruel winters,To ...
When will you learn, myself, to bea dying leaf on a living tree?Budding, swelling, growing strong,Wearing green, but not for ...
O, road and path, and path and road,They write the story plain; To the picnic grounds, to the little church, ...
470I am alive-I guess-The Branches on my HandAre full of Morning Glory-And at my finger's end-The Carmine-tingles warm-And if I ...
A bird came down the walk:He did not know I saw;He bit an angle-worm in halvesAnd ate the fellow, raw.And ...
A LITTLE trellis stood beside my head, And all the tiny fruitage of its vine Fashioned a shadowy cover to ...
I Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip -- hiss -- drip -- hiss -- fall the raindrops on ...
As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured -- As One rewalks ...
I am alive -- I guess -- The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory -- And at ...
A Bird came down the Walk -- He did not know I saw -- He bit an Angleworm in halves ...
I can make out the rigging of a schooner a mile off; I can count the new cones on the ...
This celestial seascape, with white herons got up as angels, flying high as they want and as far as they ...
Go to sleep-though of course you will not- to tideless waves thundering slantwise against strong embankments, rattle and swish of ...
Tracks of rain and light linger in the spongy greens of a nature whose flickering mountain-bulging nearer, ebbing back into ...
The beauty of manhole covers--what of that? Like medals struck by a great savage khan, Like Mayan calendar stones, unliftable, ...
Two, of course there are two. It seems perfectly natural now-- The one who never looks up, whose eyes are ...
This, then, is she, My mother as she looked at seventeen, When she first met my father. Young incredibly, Younger ...
When will you learn, myself, to be a dying leaf on a living tree? Budding, swelling, growing strong, Wearing green, ...
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