human
On the ground are other serpents, On the path are snakes and adders, And above, their tongues are hissing, And below, their tails are waving. 240 One of all the most terrific Lies before the gate across it, Longer is he than a roof-tree, Than the roof-props is he thicker, And above, his tongue is hissing, And above, his mouth is hissing, Lifted not against another, Threatening thee, O luckless hero!
gpt
Such a death is perhaps for children; But 'tis not a death for heroes, For I can enchant the fire, And can quench a glowing furnace, And can ban away the serpents, Twist the snakes between my fingers. Only yesterday it happened That I ploughed a field of adders; On the ground the snakes were twisting, And my hands were all uncovered. 260 With my nails I seized the vipers, In my hands I took the serpents, Ten I killed among the vipers, And the serpents black by hundreds. Still my nails are stained with snake-blood, And my hands with slime of serpents. Therefore will I not permit me, And by no means will I journey As a mouthful for the serpents, To the sharp fangs of the adders. 270 I myself will crush the monsters, Crush the nasty things to pieces, And will sing away the vipers, Drive the serpents from my pathway, Enter then the yard of Pohja, And into the house will force me.
human
O my son, forbear to venture, Into Pohjola's dread castle, House of Sariola all timbered; 280 For the men with swords are girded, Heroes all equipped for battle, Men with drink of hops excited, Very furious from their drinking. They will sing thee, most unhappy, To the swords of all the keenest; Better men their songs have vanquished, Mighty ones been overpowered.
gpt
Well, but I have dwelt already There in Pohjola's dread fortress. Not a Lapp with spells shall chain me, Forth no son of Turja drive me. I'll enchant the Lapp by singing, Drive away the son of Turja, And in twain will sing his shoulders, From his chin his speech I'll sever, Tear his shirt apart by singing, And I'll break in two his breastbone.