"Where is our beloved Otso,
Why delays our forest-treasure?
Has he gone to distant Ehstland,
To the upper glens of Suomi?"
Spake the ancient Wainamoinen:
"Whither shall I lead the stranger,
Whither take the golden Light-foot?
Shall I lead him to the garner,
To the house of straw conduct him?"
This the answer of his tribe-folk:
"To the dining-hall lead Otso,
Greatest hero of the Northland.
Famous Light-foot, Forest-apple,
Pride and glory of the woodlands,
Have no fear before these maidens,
Fear not curly-headed virgins,
Clad in silver-tinselled raiment
Maidens hasten to their chambers
When dear Otso joins their number,
When the hero comes among them."
This the prayer of Wainamoinen:
"Grant, O Ukko, peace and plenty
Underneath these painted rafters,
In this ornamented dweling;
Thanks be paid to gracious Ukko!"
Spake again the ancient minstrel:
"Whither shall we lead dear Otso,
'Whither take the fur-clad stranger?
This the answer of his people:
"Hither let the fur-robed Light-foot