human
Ahti, O my dearest brother, Think you on our former combat, Head to head in equal contest?
gpt
O my hawk, my bird so charming, Turn thyself and hasten homeward, 60 To the place from which you started, To the gloomy land of Pohja. Hard it is to catch the eagle, Clutch the strong-winged bird with talons.
human
O my son, my son, my youngest, Thou the strongest of my children! Why returnest thou so sadly, Home from Pohjola's dark regions? Hast thou harmed thyself by drinking At the drinking-bout of Pohja? If the goblet made thee suffer, Here a better one awaits thee, 80 Which thy father won in battle, Which he fought for in the contest.
gpt
O my mother who hast borne me, If the goblet made me suffer, I would overcome the masters, Overcome a hundred heroes, And would face a thousand heroes.
human
Wherefore art thou then in trouble? 90 If the horse has overcome you, Wherefore let the horse annoy you? If the horse has overcome you, You should buy yourself a better, With your father's lifelong savings, Which the aged man provided.
gpt
O my mother who hast borne me, If I quarrelled with the courser, Or the foal had over-reached me, 100 I myself have shamed the masters, Overcome the horses' drivers, Foals and drivers I have vanquished, And the heroes with their coursers.
human
Wherefore art thou then in trouble, Wherefore is thy heart so troubled, As from Pohjola thou comest? Have the women laughed about you, Or the maidens ridiculed you? 110 If the women laughed about you, Or the maidens ridiculed you, There are maidens to be jeered at, Other women to be laughed at.
gpt
O my mother who hast borne me, If the women laughed about me, Or the maidens ridiculed me, I would laugh at all their menfolk, And would wink at all the maidens, 120 I would shame a hundred women, And a thousand brides would make them.
human
What has chanced, my son, my darling, Hast thou perhaps encountered something As to Pohjola thou wentest? Have you eaten perhaps too freely, Eaten much, too much have drunken, Or at night perchance when resting Have you seen a dream of evil?
gpt
Perhaps old women may remember, What in sleep they saw in vision! Though my nightly dreams I think on, Yet are those of daytime better. O my mother, aged woman, Fill my bag with fresh provisions, With a good supply of flour, And a lump of salt add likewise, 140 For thy son must travel further, Journey to another country, Journey from this house beloved, Journey from this lovely dwelling, For the men their swords are whetting, And the lance-tips they are sharpening.
human
Wherefore whet the men their sword-blades, Wherefore sharpen they the lance-tips?
gpt
Therefore do they whet their sword-blades, Therefore they the lance-tips sharpen: On the head of me unhappy, On my neck to bring destruction. From a quarrel rose a duel, There in Pohjola's enclosure; I have slain the son of Pohja, Slain the very lord of Pohja, 160 Then rose Pohjola to battle, Close behind me comes the tumult, Raging all for my destruction, To surround a single warrior.