A Poem Of The Kaleva District

Honoring One Hundred Years of the Independence of Finland Tell me, Singer, those stories that cling to your mind as vines of blossoms and nettles cling to an old house hiding terrible secrets. Tell me those stories again so I stay awake, alert and prepared for the worst. This night is crucial for all of us. It has never been as easy as we imagined. There will be a swollen river ahead we must ford; a mountain pass will be blocked by a family of trolls; a battleship is being built by our enemies; there are wolves larger than any we have seen before. My mind has ever been far-roving, my body ran to keep up with it, but now both body and mind want to return to the Farm in the High Country where I can watch the Great Bear and stare into the heavens studded with stars. So tell again the story of the pale-faced fortune-teller and the orphan girl with the sad eyes that should shine brighter than the summer sun, and the tale of the last defenders of Master Paavo's homestead in Karelia, and the Song of the Sampo. Then you can rest for awhile, until tomorrow's sun ignites the eastern sky with red fire and dispels dark skies and portents. Then you will sing for me one story of love and hope, but do not tell me if it is true or false, and I will carry it deep in my heart all the way home to share it with our family assembled by the hearth fire, and it will be a holy remembrance for all seasons to come. .