6 thoughts on “Moving MON TIKI

  1. Now the ancient Pellerwoinen
    Takes the hatchet from his shoulder,
    Takes his axe with copper handle,
    Chops the body of the oak-tree;
    Well he knows the art of chopping.
    Soon he fells the tree majestic,
    Fells the mighty forest-monarch,
    With his magic axe and power.
    From the stems he lops the branches,
    Splits the trunk in many pieces,
    Fashions lumber for the bottom,
    Countless boards, and ribs, and braces,
    For the singer’s magic vessel,
    For the boat of the magician.

    Wainamoinen, old and skilful,
    The eternal wonder-worker,
    Builds his vessel with enchantment,
    Builds his boat by art of magic,
    From the timber of the oak-tree,
    From its posts, and planks, and flooring.
    Sings a song, and joins the frame-work;
    Sings a second, sets the siding;
    Sings a third time, sets the row-locks;
    Fashions oars, and ribs, and rudder,
    Joins the sides and ribs together.
    When the ribs were firmly fastened,
    When the sides were tightly jointed,
    Then alas! three words were wanting,
    Lost the words of master-magic,
    How to fasten in the ledges,
    How the stern should be completed,
    How complete the boat’s forecastle.
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