Take the sea-foam from the waters, Take the honey of the mermaids, And anoint thy sacred members, That thy labors may be lightened. "Should all this be unavailing, Ukko, thou who art in heaven, Hasten hither, thou art needed, Come thou to thy child in trouble, Help the helpless and afflicted. Take thy golden-colored sceptre, Charm away opposing forces, Strike the pillars of the stronghold, Open all resisting portals, That the great and small may wander From their ancient hiding-places, Through the courts and halls of freedom." Finally the blind Lowyatar, Wicked witch of Tuonela, Was delivered of her burden, Laid her offspring in the cradle, Underneath the golden covers. Thus at last were born nine children, In an evening of the summer, From Lowyatar, blind and ancient, Ugly daughter of Tuoni. Faithfully the virgin-mother Guards her children in affection, As an artist loves and nurses What his skillful hands have fashioned. Thus Lowyatar named her offspring, Colic, Pleurisy, and Fever, Ulcer, Plague, and dread Consumption, Gout, Sterility, and Cancer. And the worst of these nine children Blind Lowyatar quickly banished, Drove away as an enchanter, To bewitch the lowland people, To engender strife and envy. Louhi, hostess of Pohyola, Banished all the other children To the fog-point in the ocean, To the island forest-covered; Banished all the fatal creatures, Gave these wicked sons of evil To the people of Wainola, To the youth of Kalevala, For the Kalew-tribe's destruction. Quick Wainola's maidens sicken, Young and aged, men and heroes, With the worst of all diseases, With diseases new and nameless; Sick and dying is Wainola. Thereupon old Wainamoinen, Wise and wonderful enchanter, Hastens to his people's rescue, Hastens to a war with Mana, To a conflict with Tuoni, To destroy the evil children Of the evil maid, Lowyatar. Wainamoinen heats the bath-rooms, Heats the blocks of healing-sandstone With the magic wood of Northland, Gathered by the sacred river; Water brings in covered buckets From the cataract and whirlpool; Brooms he brings enwrapped with ermine, Well the bath the healer cleanses, Softens well the brooms of birch-wood; Then a honey-heat be wakens, Fills the rooms with healing vapors, From the virtue of the pebbles Glowing in the heat of magic, Thus he speaks in supplication: "Come, O Ukko, to my rescue, God of mercy, lend thy presence, Give these vapor-baths new virtues, Grant to them the powers of healing, And restore my dying people; Drive away these fell diseases, Banish them to the unworthy, Let the holy sparks enkindle, Keep this heat in healing limits, That it may not harm thy children, May not injure the afflicted. When I pour the sacred waters On the heated blocks of sandstone, May the water turn to honey Laden with the balm of healing.