Forge the mighty axe of heroes, Wherewith I may fell the forest, Fell the birch, and oak, and aspen." This behest the blacksmith honors, Forges him an axe of copper, Wonderful the blade he forges. Kullerwoinen grinds his hatchet, Grinds his blade from morn till evening, And the next day makes the handle; Then he hastens to the forest, To the upward-sloping mountain, To the tallest of the birches, To the mightiest of oak-trees; There he swings his axe of copper, Swings his blade with might of magic, Cuts with sharpened edge the aspen, With one blow he fells the oak-tree, With a second blow, the linden; Many trees have quickly fallen, By the hatchet of Kullervo. Then the wizard spake as follows: "This the proper work of Lempo, Let dire Hisi fell the forest!" In the birch he sank his hatchet, Made an uproar in the woodlands, Called aloud in tones, of thunder, Whistled to the distant mountains, Till they echoed to his calling, When Kullervo spake as follows: "May the forest, in the circle Where my voice rings, fall and perish, In the earth be lost forever! May no tree remain unlevelled, May no saplings grow in spring-time, Never while the moonlight glimmers, Where Kullervo's voice has echoed, Where the forest hears my calling; Where the ground with seed is planted, And the grain shall sprout and flourish, May it never come to ripeness, Mar the ears of corn be blasted!" When the strong man, Untamoinen, Went to look at early evening, How Kullervo was progressing, In his labors in the forest; Little was the work accomplished, Was not worthy of a here; Untamoinen thus reflected: "Young Kullervo is not fitted For the work of clearing forests, Wastes the best of all the timber, To my lands he brings destruction; I shall set him making fences." Then the youth began the building Of a fence for Untamoinen; Took the trunks of stately fir-trees, Trimmed them with his blade for fence-posts, Cut the tallest in the woodlands, For the railing of his fences; Made the smaller poles and cross-bars From the longest of the lindens; Made the fence without a pass-way, Made no wicket in his fences, And Kullervo spake these measures. "He that does not rise as eagles, Does not sail on wings through ether, Cannot cross Kullervo's pickets, Nor the fences he has builded." Untamoinen left his mansion To inspect the young boy's labors, View the fences of Kullervo; Saw the fence without a pass-way, Not a wicket in his fences; From the earth the fence extended To the highest clouds of heaven. These the words of Untamoinen: "For this work he is not fitted, Useless is the fence thus builded; Is so high that none can cross it, And there is no passage through it: He shall thresh the rye and barley." Young Kullervo, quick preparing Made an oaken flail for threshing, Threshed the rye to finest powder,