TYVEN

(inst.)


SANKARIHAUTA

Saapui h�n keskelle h�vityksen
kyl��n ammoin niin rauhaisaan.
Katot hehkuivat v�reiss� liekkien
ja veri rakkaiden peitti maan.

Vihan nostatti ja kiiri taivaisiin.
Niin moni lieni jo tiell� tuonelaan
vaan he viel' ei veisi h�nt� mukanaan.

Vaik' joukkonsa h�n kokosi liki ly�dyist�,
yksin raivonsa vavahdutti julmaa vastusta.
Kai satakunta ruumista h�n polki allensa,
armoa ken sai kohtas' vain kirveen kaulalla.

"Miekanter�t vapauttakaa,
kostuttakaa kylm�� rautaa!
Suokaa heille vihastanne,
hukuttakaa hurmeen virtaan!"

"Kilpien taa piiloutukaa,
pelkurit jo per��ntyk��!
Ohitsemme jos mielitte
viimeinenkin hautaan saattakaa!"

Harvatpa kertomaan s��styiv�t,
siksi veri yltyi virtaamaan.
Niin vain aika koitti my�s sankarin
kirjailtu miekka kourassaan
(vaan mies taipumaton veljet rinnallaan
tarustoissa el�� ainiaan).



KYL�N P��SS�

1

Kauan sitten kyl�n p��ss� syntyi kaksi poikaa,
kaksi perillist� sodanjumalan karhuntaljoin verhotun.
Jo kolmen i�st�, sanovat, toisiansa alkoivat harjoittaa
ja kun ter�ksens� yhteen kalahti, saattoi kuulla ukkosen.

Kauan sitten kyl�n p��ss� varttui kaksi poikaa,
kaksiko vain typeryst� kuolemaa pilkkaamaan?
Ei yksik��n haava viel� ollut tehnyt teht�v��ns�
ja siksi kai sit� miekasta vihollisen t�ytyi anoa.

Aina kunnia houkuttaa nuorta kansaa
(ry�st�retki merten taa) ja taistelu sit�kin enemm�n.
Varmaan turmaan rient�v�n tielle
vain toinen hullu uskaltautuu.

2

Kun kentt� hohkaa k�rsimyst� ja kirveet lent�v�t,
leikki kanssa kuoleman vain yltyy.
Niin riemukasta lapsien on p�it� pudottaa
kuunnellessaan sotajoukkoa hurraavaa.

3

Usein k�ykin vain niin et' vertaisesta tulee alempi.
Tarinan kulku voitoista k��ntyy
ja maine ihmisen helposti antaa veljens� unohtaa.

Ylpeys, tuo kavalin tauti p��ll� maan,
n�in on vienyt taas yhden uhrin muassaan.
Kumpi lie se epatto, kilpi alhaalla ja miekka koholla
teilleen mennyt vaiko h�n joka hautoja kaivaa saa?

Heikompaa voima mik' riepottaa;
kotinsa on i�ksi j�tt�nyt tahtoen viel� surmata.
Kunniaton moinen ty�.



HIIDENPELTO

Miss� lienee h�n joka kyl�ns� m�i,
johti vihollisen hy�kk�ykseen?
Miss� lienee h�n joka veljens� verta
jalkojensa juureen vuodatti?

Kuka lienee h�n vailla rohkeutta,
muinoin mieli soturin?
Kuka lieneek��n vailla kunniaa,
katkeruuden liekin polttama?

H�nk� kuullut ei teurastettavia,
omaa heikkouttaan kirosi?
H�nk� palkan teoistansa sai,
rikkauden taakan kera pakeni?

Taival petturin synk�n taivaan alla,
luolat susien eiv�t suojaa anna.
Pako ikuinen, et muuta n�hd� saata,
taival petturin niin lohduton.

Ja tied�t, silm�t nuo tarkkailevat askeleita h�t�isten,
on maa aina n�lk�isempi mit� v�hemm�n se saalistaa.
Niin helppoa on upottaa matkaaja ja raskas lasti
kun ote hellitt�m�t�n jo etsii hautapaikkaa.



H�PE�N HILJAISET VEDET

(inst.)



AURINKO JA KUU

"Aurinko ja kuu.
Syttyneet kaukana sielt�
miss� lehv�in suoja yllein kumartuu.

Kai vuosia olen jo kulkenut
muassa metsien kansojen.
Olen oppinut viisautta susilta
ja nukkunut karhujen kanssa.

Yht��n ihmist� en ole kohdannut,
kyl�nk��n liepeille sattunut.
Tied� en matkaani kotoa.
Kohtalo sanelee minne johtaa tie."

Kaukana tyveness�
vehre� polku verelle johdattaa.
Yll� maan, taivas kattona,
loppunsa on kaikella.

"Kai vuosia olen jo kulkenut
miettien veljeni l�ht��.
Kunpa tiet�isin minne h�n p��tyy.
Jumalat suojelkoot h�nt� matkallaan."

J�rk�ht�v�t vankat kalliot.
Vaeltavat kuu ja aurinko.
Tuulet yltyv�t, myrskyt tyyntyv�t.
Laivojansa aallot etsiv�t.

"Taivaalla t�hdet valaiskaa,
tulen vain min� tarvitsen.
Luonnosta olen syntynyt,
edess�s' mit��n pelk�� en."



SANKARITARINA

"Kuolee karja,
kuolee suku,
samaten itse kuolet;
vaan nimi
ei koskaan kuole,
h�lt� ken on hyv�n saanut.

Kuolee karja,
kuolee suku,
samaten itse kuolet;
yhden tied�n
mik' ei kuole:
manalle menneen maine."
(H�vam�l)

Jo luku viimeinen saa,
surmansa kohdannut lep�� sijallaan.
Veljet maljan simaa nostavat,
tyhj�ksi juovat nimeen vainajan.

Kaunis laiva kantaakseen saa miehen rauenneen,
laskua tuonpuoleiseen se vartoo rannalla.
Aseet, korut, rikkaudet matkamies saa mukaansa,
alla suuren rovion lipuu hautansa.
(Ja katso! Voiko toista niin ylv�st� n�ky� olla
kuin hiljaisten liekkien kurotus t�hti� kohti.)

Kuolemaan me jok'ikinen kuljemme;
jumalat ovat el�v�t valinneet.
Veljemme syliin aaltojen laskemme;
j�� hyv�sti, sinut aina muistamme.

Kunniaa ei miekka voi taltuttaa;
jumalat ovat sankarit nimenneet.
Veljemme tuonen herralle luovutamme;
siis hyv�sti - kunnes j�lleen kohtaamme.

» OF STRENGTH AND HONOUR

SERENE

(inst.)



WARRIOR'S GRAVE

Amongst such ravage he arrived,
to a village once so calm.
Rooftops glowing the colours of flame
and the blood of the beloved on the ground.

Such anger did it raise to echo through all skies.
To beyond so many may have travelled
but not yet they were to take him along.

'though gathering his forces from those nearly defeated,
alone it was his rage that shook the cruel enemy.
Hundreds of corpses he trampled underfoot,
his axe on their necks as a display of mercy.

"Blades of your swords shall be set free,
iron so cold shall now redden!
Grant them a glimpse of your hatred,
drown them into the streams of gore!"

"Behind your shields you shall now hide,
all you cowards better flee!
Should you past us desire to walk,
our last man standing you must strike to the ground!"

Very few were spared to tell this story,
so immensely the blood took to flowing.
And so the time of the warrior did come
with an embroided blade in its hand
(but a man unyielding with his brothers by his side
as a legend he lives forever).



A VILLAGE AWAY

1

Long ago a village away there were born two sons,
two heirs of the god of war dressed in bearskins.
From the age of three, they say, each other they did train
and when their steel did clash thunder could be heard.

Long ago a village away there did grow two sons,
or were they just two fools born to mock their deaths?
Still they hadn't got a wound that would've hurt'd enough
to prevent them from begging such from a foreign blade.

Honour always tempts the young blood
(plundering across the seas) and battles even more.
Into the way of the one rushing to his doom
only another insane dares step.

2

When the field emits pain and axes fly about,
play with death is on the increase.
Such a joy for children the dropping of heads is
as long as their army cheers.

3

Yet so often equality becomes inferiority.
The course of a story twists at triumphs
and fame so easily lets a man forsake his kin.

Thus pride, that most insidious illness on all earth,
once again has taken its prey.
Which one might be the failure, he who left with a lowered
shield and sword held high or he who has to dig the graves?

Tossed about is the weaker by what force;
his home he has left, gained just more will to slay.
What a disgrace is such work.



FIELD OF THE DEVIL

Where might be the one who sold his village,
lead the enemy for a strike?
Where might be the one who by his feet
shed the blood of his own brother?

Who might be the one with no courage,
once with heart of a warrior?
Who might he be with no honour,
burnt by the flame of embitterment?

Did he not hear those to be slaughtered,
cursing his own weakness?
Did he receive a pay for his deeds,
ran away with the burden of wealth?

The way of a traitor underneath the darkest sky,
caves of the wolves offer no shelter.
A flight through forever, nothing else you see,
the way of a traitor so desperate.

And know that those eyes are watching every hasty step,
the less the ground is hunting the hungrier it grows.
So easy it is to drown a roamer and a heavy load
at the expense of a firm grasp seeking a burial place.



THE SILENT WATERS OF INFAMY

(inst.)



THE SUN AND THE MOON

"The sun and the moon.
Lit so far from where
the shelter of branches does bend over me.

I count it as years that I've wandered
amongst the folk of the woods.
Wisdom I've learned from wolves
and I have slept in the beds of bears.

No other man I've met on my way,
no village I've walked past by.
I couldn't tell my way from home.
Destiny dictates where my road shall turn."

Far far away in the still
a verdant path once leads to blood.
Above the earth with heavens as vault,
there is an end to all.

"I count it as years that I've wandered
just thinking of my brother's departure.
Oh I wish I was told where he would end up.
May the gods guard him on his journey."

And the steady rocks stir.
The moon and the sun do rove.
Winds are rising, storms abate.
Their ships the waves still seek.

"Stars on the sky come out,
only the fire I need.
From the nature I have born,
before thee nothing I fear."



WARRIOR'S TALE

"Cattle die,
kinsmen die,
likewise you will die;
but the name
will never die,
of one who has done well.

Cattle die,
kinsmen die,
likewise you will die;
one I know
that never dies:
the fame of each one dead."
(H�vam�l)

And so the last chapter is at hand,
who faced his death now rests on his place.
His brothers raise a chalice of mead
and drink it empty in the name of the late.

A craft so beautiful now may carry a peaceful man,
on the shore it awaits release into what lies beyond.
Weapons, jewels, riches the traveller is armed with,
underneath a vast pyre his grave will soon be sailing.
(And behold! Can there be another sight so grand
than of silent flames reaching out for the stars.)

Towards death we all are lead;
the gods have chosen those to live.
Our brother we lay on the lap of the waves;
fare ye well, you stay in our hearts.

Honour no sword can tame;
the gods have recited the heroic names.
Our brother we yield to the father of the dead;
fare ye well - until we meet again.