e damsel spoke unto him,
And she asked, and spoke as follows:
"Tell me now of your relations,
What the brave race that you spring from,
From a mighty race it seems me,
Offspring of a mighty father."

Kullervo, Kalervo's offspring,
Answered in the words which follow:
"No, my race is not a great one,
Not a great one, not a small one, 200
I am just of middle station,
Kalervo's unhappy offspring,
Stupid boy, and very foolish,
Worthless child, and good for nothing.
Tell me now about your people,
And the brave race that you spring from,
Perhaps from mighty race descended,
Offspring of a mighty father."

And the girl made answer quickly,
And she spoke the words which follow: 210
"No, my race is not a great one,
Not a great one, not a small one,
I am just of middle station,
Kalervo's unhappy daughter,
Stupid girl, and very foolish,
Worthless child, and good for nothing.

"When I was a little infant,
Living with my tender mother,
To the wood I went for berries,
'Neath the mountain sought for raspberries. 220
On the plains I gathered strawberries,
Underneath the mountain, raspberries,
Plucked by day, at night I rested,
Plucked for one day and a second,
And upon the third day likewise,
But the pathway home I found not,
In the woods the pathways led me,
And the footpath to the forest.

"There I stood, and burst out weeping,
Wept for one day and a second, 230
And at length upon the third day,
Then I climbed a mighty mountain,
To the peak of all the highest.
On the peak I called and shouted,
And the woods made answer to me,
While the heaths re-echoed likewise:
'Do not call, O girl so senseless,
Shout not, void of understanding!
There is no one who can hear you,
None at home to hear your shouting.' 240

"Then upon the third and fourth days,
Lastly on the fifth and sixth days,
I to take my life attempted,
Tried to hurl me to destruction,
But by no means did I perish,
Nor could I, the wretched perish.

"Would that I, poor wretch, had perished,
Hapless one, had met destruction,
That the second year thereafter,
Or the third among the summers, 250
I had shone forth as a grass-blade,
As a lovely flower exis