The Hero of Esthonia and Other Studies in the Romantic Literature of That CountryKirby, W. F. (William Forsell)
History
The Hero of Esthonia and Other Studies in the Romantic Literature of That Country
Kirby, W. F. (William Forsell)
Estonian literature; Estonian literature -- History and criticism
With the leader's secret orders
That the flags unfurled should flutter,
And the spear-points do their duty,
And the axes should be lifted,
And the swords should flash in sunlight,
What was that which came to meet me,
And what horror to confound me?
It was Famine met me tottering,
Tottering Famine, chewing garbage;
With her nose she sniffed around her,
That the meaning of my message
With her nose she thus might fathom;
For she smelt the war already,
And the scent of blood had reached her,
And she went to call her comrades.
To the Finnish Bridge while driving
[Pg 291] On the west wind's path of copper,
On the pathway of the rainbow,
While I hastened as an envoy,
With the king's note in my wallet,
And his mandate in my bosom,
On my tongue the secret orders
That the flags unfurled should flutter,
And the spear-points do their duty,
And the axes and the fish-spears
All should do the work before them,
What was that which came to meet me,
What unlooked-for horror met me?
'Twas the Plague I there encountered,
Crafty Plague, the people's murderer,
Of the sevenfold war-plagues direst;
With his nose he sniffed around him,
And his nostrils snuffed the vapour,
Seeking thus to probe the matter,
And the letter to discover;
He had smelt the war already,
And the scent of blood had lured him
And he went to call his comrades.
After this my horse I halted,
Yoked him with a yoke of iron,
Fettered him with Kalev's fetters,
That he stood as rooted firmly,
From the spot to move unable,
While I pondered and considered,
Deeply in my heart reflecting
If the profit of my journey
Were not lost in greater evil
[Pg 292] For the war brings wounds and bloodshed,
And the war has throat of serpent.
Wherefore then should I the battle,
Whence springs only pain and murder,
Forth to peaceful homesteads carry?
Let a message so accursed
In the ocean-depths be sunken,
There to sleep in endless slumber,
Lost among the spawn of fishes,
There to rest in deepest caverns,
Rather than that I should take it,
Till it spreads among the hamlets.
Thereupon I took the mandate
Which I carried in my wallet,
And amid the depths I sunk it,
Underneath the waves of ocean,
Till the waves to foam had torn it,
And to mud had quite reduced it,
While the fishes fled before it.
Thus was hushed the sound of warfare,
Thus was lost the news of battle.
THE BLUE BIRD[80] (I.).
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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